#I never know what to put as tag so let me just ponder over this-

[sagaverse]

Here to make an official announcement that, yes, SagaVerse is canceled, finished, nada.

Hi there peeps and readers that followed through the funky saga of this multiverse until now, not Rev or Levi this time as they are both busy. Gremlin tophat to serve you on a last post of announcement as you'll have seen in red above. SagaVerse is officially canceled. There are many reasons for this, but the main one is that Revolvius has finally completely turned the page on the fandom, while Undertale in itself had been a joy and great inspiration, the fandom was a different story, I won't lie I had expected the series to be closed earlier before now, for both his own good and interest, but never too late I guess.

Some asked about what would become of the cast, like the sweet Nocturne boi. Unfortunately, their stories will remain in the dark, unless we decide to post the drafts of their backstories, which is less than likely.

You are free to use the characters for your creativity, draw them if you want, write about them, craft them, anything your mind may thrive for as long as it is not something heinous and goes under the moral of good sense, with credits of course even if the saga is no more.

The blog won't be touched, though do not expect any sort of update from it, aside from if we decide to delete this blog for reasons of our own.

As for the members of the Team, you can always support us individually :

@revolvius has commissions open and won't stop to art his way in life, now more interested in RainWold with his other blog named @rw-repurposed

@leonightwater25 has a comic of their own named Not a Tale (linked to the prologue page), and they also have their commissions open as well, have a look, they do wonderful work ;)

@levi-weaver and @xtrastuff both are writers with their own worlds and creations, you can find Xtra on Ao3, Levy has college and can unfortunately not focus much on that however

@unclespr also has his own world and creations, you can look at his Discord server (the link will expire in a week) to see it

As for @theia-diki (tophat gremlin), I have commissions open, and occasionally post on media, though rare now

Thank you all for your support, and we hope you all get to find your passion and go through life with it ^^

Stay determined, and don't be afraid to change path.

As a last, have this Nocturne I had done some time ago haha

The sweetest baby for last :3

[writingdumpster]

secret wife

pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!reader

warnings: none, all fluff

summary: When you go to pick up Bob at the base the dagger squad finds out that Bob's been keeping a wife from them.

word count: 1k

A/N: Thanks for 3k followers!

Bob pulled his phone out of his locker as the guys all piled into the locker room behind him. There was a text from you awaiting Bob. 

I’m waiting in the lobby for you. Don’t take too long. xoxo

“Did you guys see the hot girl in the lobby?” Coyote asked as he walked into the locker room. Bob smirked to himself as he started to take off his flight suit. 

“Who do you think she is?” Fanboy pondered. 

“I was gonna find out after we got changed,” Rooster said. 

“Don’t bother. Bet she’s a recruit’s girlfriend,” Payback suggested. 

“Who do you think?” Asked Hangman. 

“I don’t know,” Payback responded. “But I know what a woman in love looks like.”

“I don’t believe that,” Hangman teased Payback. 

“I’m married,” Payback pointed out. 

“So you tell us, but we’ve never seen your wife,” Rooster taunted. 

“Her picture is on my dash,” Payback said. 

“Could be anyone,” Fanboy joined in. 

“You’ve met her, Fanboy,” Payback said. 

“You can’t prove anything,” Fanboy teased. Bob was quietly enjoying the conversation as he grabbed the rest of his things. He slipped his bag over his shoulders and closed his locker. 

“See y’all tomorrow,” Bob said as he headed out to meet you in the lobby. When he rounded the corner his smile widened as you stood to greet him. You were wearing paint stained jeans and an old t-shirt that used to be Bob’s, but it had been years since that was true. It was yours now, just like he was. 

“You changed out of the flight suit,” you said forlornly when Bob walked up. 

“It was all sweaty, angel,” Bob told you.

“I wanted to take it off you though,” you whined. Bob gave you a cheeky grin. 

“You want me to put on the white uniform when I get home?” Bob offered. He leaned down and kissed you tenderly before you could answer. 

“The hot girl is your girlfriend?” Hangman practically shouted from behind Bob. He turned over his shoulder to see the whole squad watching the two of you. 

“Wife, actually,” Bob said. “Been meaning to introduce ya.” 

“You didn’t say you have a wife!” Phoenix exclaimed. 

“Didn’t come up,” Bob said. “We’ve only known each other for a month.” Everyone gawked at Bob, thinking a month was plenty of time to let your friends know you have a wife. 

“He likes to keep me protected from his work,” you piped in when Bob failed to explain himself. Bob wound his fingers between yours. He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

“What’s your name?” Phoenix asked. 

“Y/N,” you told her. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Phoenix murmured. You could hear in her voice that she felt betrayed by Bob. You knew he wouldn’t notice though. You wanted to stop him from hurting her more.

“I keep my ring on my dog tags,” Bob said, pulling them up from his shirt to prove it. 

“I thought it was your dad’s,” Phoenix told him. “You always talk about him.” 

“Bobby’s told me a lot about you,” you interjected. “I was hoping you would have dinner with us. I’d like to make the pilot who saved my Bobby a good meal.” Phoenix met your eye and you gave her a warm smile. She gave a tiny nod and smiled back. 

“I’d love to, ma’am,” Phoenix said. 

“I’m her wingman,” Rooster called. “Could say that I kept Bobby safe too.” Bob blushed brightly. 

“Payback and I were on the mission,” Fanboy said.

“I saved Bob’s wingman,” Hangman added. You looked up at Bob in question. 

“They know you’re the one who makes my lunches now,” Bob said. You giggled. You always made Bob his lunches. When he was deployed he didn’t get good home cooked meals, so you made sure he had them three times a day when he was home with you. 

“Well, some of you might have to sit on the couch, but I’d be happy to cook for my husband’s friends,” you said.  

“I can’t believe that baby on board has a wife and you don’t even have a girlfriend,” Hangman teased Rooster. 

“You don’t either,” Rooster spit back. 

“No woman can hold me down,” Hangman joked. 

“He’s the one your sister would like, right?” You asked, trying to keep your voice quiet. 

“You’ve got a sister?” Hangman called out. 

“Yeah,” Bob said. “And I’m quite sure she could hold you down if she wanted.” Hangman’s eyes widened. You chuckled. 

“You’re going to set him up with your sister?” Rooster complained. 

“That’s y/n’s scheme. She wants my sister to live near us,” Bob explained. 

“She’s funnier than you, Bobby,” you said. 

“You do spend a lot of time laughing at me together,” Bob teased. He didn’t really mind though. Everytime he had come home to find you and his sister in tears from laughing so hard it had made him even more sure that he’d chosen the right person to marry. 

“Well, when do I get to meet her?” Hangman asked, a wide smirk on his face. 

“I’ll have her come over for dinner with all of you,” you said. “Next Sunday at 6:00. Don’t be late,” you told them. Then you tugged on Bob’s hand, signaling you wanted to go home. 

“Bye, guys,” Bob said. “See ya in the morning.” With that he slung his arm around your shoulders and led you out of the base. 

“I can’t believe Bob didn’t tell us he has a wife,” Payback muttered. 

“I can’t believe Hangman’s the first choice for his sister,” Fanboy said. 

“Why not? You think Bob wants to be related to any of you?” Hangman asked proudly. Rooster snorted. 

“Yes. I would have thought he’d want any of us before you.”  

A/N: There is a part two of the dinner now available

[fallow-hollow]

Hiii I am Dying of nervousness sending in a request for the first time but could I get Mithrun and a gn!reader? Nothing else needs to be specific, just that (sorry if I am making it difficult for you ^^')

body heat

…ft! mithrun x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, post-canon, spoilers for manga and ending, established relationship, cuddling

…word count! 955

…notes! don’t see a lotta mithrun content out there, so i’m happy to write for him! i hope this meets your expectations anon!!

“Mithruuuun,” you whined, unable to see your lover even when looking over your shoulder. “C’mere with me and light the fire already, it’s so cold in here.”

Mithrun shot you a glance from where he stood a distance away, despite the fact that you couldn’t return it. “Is it? I can’t tell.”

His flat tone of voice made it even more obvious that the elf truly knew nothing of the agony you were experiencing, imbuing you with a sense of lighthearted frustration. Tossing your head back, you would groan,

“Of course you can’t tell, you’d wear a flowy tunic even if it was a blizzard outside! Now come help me!”

Without as much of a sound to warn you, the man suddenly appeared at your side, causing you to both jump and squeak from the spontaneous nature of his movement. Scratch that, knowing him, it was probably teleportation. Hardly necessary, considering how close you were, but you wouldn’t put it past your lover to do such a thing just to scare you. What a tease…..

“I don’t mind helping you, but sometimes I do wonder if you choose not to do it on your own just to spend time with me.”

Now, it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for Mithrun to say something like this completely genuinely, but the ghost of a smirk gracing those gorgeous features of his let you know that he was most certainly poking fun at you right now. He could be so arrogant sometimes… not that you truly minded.

Ever since Mithrun had recently retired to live with you in the still fledgling Golden Country, you’d noticed him start to become ever so slightly livelier at times. In the past, he’d always said he was grateful that you didn’t meet him when he was so pompous and flippant, but to you, a few snarky remarks here and there didn’t bother you at all. If anything, it meant that he could reclaim his old self while also embracing the new, which made a hopeful prospect for your shared future.

While you were in the process of pondering these feelings, the man beside you went right ahead with his magic. Though he mainly specialized in teleportation magic, any self-respecting member of the Canaries, former or otherwise, knew how to do something as simple as create some flame. The firewood you’d piled up caught almost instantly, creating a blaze that was perfect in both size and temperature.

“Thank you.” You acknowledged him with a nod, figuring that was all he would do. It seemed that Mithrun had other plans, however, judging by his choice to lift up one end of your blanket and wedge himself into the space next to you. A bit confused, you shot him a glance. “I thought you said you weren’t cold?”

He hummed. “But I want to be with you.”

Want. It was such a strange word to hear from Mithrun. For the longest time, he insisted he was unable to want anything at all, aside from the burning need for vengeance. Even now, he struggled with things like eating or sleeping. So to hear that he wants you, of all things…

You did nothing to hide the smile on your face. “You always can, you big goof.”

Whenever the two of you snuggled, your lover never really knew where to put his hands. This rang just as true now, with his arms awkwardly hovering on either side of you, unsure where to grasp or hold. With an almost practiced sense of effortlessness, you guided him to wrap both arms around your waist, positioning one at a time.

For a man so strong, he was quite pliant under your touch. One could easily say that it was his own apathy causing such behavior, but on the other hand, it was nice to believe that he chose to do so of his own free will.

He certainly had no trouble plopping his head down on your shoulder, completely unbothered by the way his cheek was squished from the proximity. How could someone be so battle hardened yet so…..cute?

“You comfy?”

The elf hummed affirmatively, the sound slightly muffled by the close contact. You allowed one hand to snake behind his back and rest comfortably on his hip, meanwhile the other grasped the edge of the blanket to keep it snugly wrapped around you. Honestly, Mithrun could probably be in the strangest position imaginable and still consider himself perfectly comfortable, so you weren’t entirely sure why you asked. It just felt… nice to check in on him. Like the right thing to do, no matter how obvious his answer may be to you.

Soft crackling sounds served as the backdrop for these thoughts, all while your lover remained still and relaxed by your side, having some ponderings of his own. Without you, Mithrun often found it difficult to settle down. He was getting a little better at knowing when to rest and eat in recent days, but even at times where he was well aware of the tiredness weighing him down, it was difficult to want to rest. Especially when what he wanted even more was to wait for you.

With you, he was able to feel at ease in a way that he still struggled with for the most part. Just like that dwarf had told him, even vegetable scraps could grow anew when placed in the soil and cared for. Maybe you were the earth, and he wanted nothing more than to relax while surrounded by you. He really wasn’t great at metaphors, so he couldn’t quite tell.

Of one thing, though, he could certainly be sure.

“I think that it should get cold more often.”

[miserycanary]

JUST A DAY? ᡣ𐭩 [Ghost ver. Take It or Leave It]

pairing: König & fem!reader

synopsis: König forgets about your special day

tag: milder angst than normal, probably OOC König

It felt like mocking—taunting even. The red circle around today’s date looks like a sight for sore eyes. You ponder each moment that passes without your husband by your side, thinking if all the sacrifice you’ve made that led up to this moment was worth it. Was being abducted on your way home worth it for the man who couldn’t even show up to your own birthday dinner?

The cinnamon candles lit for this specific event are steadily melting, dimming your life even more. Homemade dishes cold and champagne dropping to room temperature. 

König was never the affectionate type—well, outside constant observation and pleads for you to just stay home while he takes care of the rest. He’s too unfamiliar with the ropes of a relationship. He didn’t even expect himself to land you. He’s familiar with the way everyone cowers in front of him because of his bulking figure, cloth draped over his head like some random serial killer, and the battlefield scars that make random strangers put 911 on speed-dial. 

Like always, when he puts his hand out to you, holding the purse you dropped, he expects you to run away, scream, or at least flinch. Though that wasn’t the case. Instead you peered up to him, flashing a soft smile before giving a small gratitude. He watched as your back turned, walking down the street looking like an angel that graced Earth with your presence. 

His next moves might have been.. questionable, but can you blame him? He has social skills comparable to that of a stone. So, yes, maybe it was kind of batshit crazy when he decided to stalk you, find out about you using connections, and all that. Yes, it was his fault when you tased him because he decided it was a good idea to visit you via breaking your window. 

The following years after that were rocky. It wasn’t easy to get you to trust him. It took him about 7 months before you even entertained the idea of going on a date with him. That’s when you finally realize how genuine his feelings are, understanding why he decided to approach the way he did because of his anxiety and overall cluelessness about relationships. 

It was smooth-sailing after that. You lived your life with a boyfriend that acts more like a devotee, but his incapability to understand your emotions really tests you. König doesn’t understand why dates or small things mattered. To him, love is grand and obvious. That’s why he never bothered with the futile things, but with your patience, you keep trying to explain. Though it’s always: “Okay, sweetie, I’ll do better next time” with a forehead kiss and luxurious item, but never actual progress. 

So, here you sit, under dim lights when the sound of the house being unlocked rang out. Stood there in the entrance was your so-called husband, stunned to see the set-up.

“Hübsch, what’s all this?” König gruffs with a smile, thinking it was for him. 

“Don’t even take a step near me.” 

The cold tone in your voice didn’t go over his head, immediately dropping his bag and coming closer despite your words. 

“What’s wrong?” 

The fucking audacity to even ask. 

“What’s wrong?! You’re really asking me that?!” 

Unable to hold your feelings back, you burst out and the chair clambers back as you stand up. “Do you even know what day it is?” The question hangs in the air and the silence was enough for a reply. “It’s my birthday. My fucking birthday.”

König softens. “Oh, liebe, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow—“

“No! I don’t want another of your fucking pity and unapologetic grand act! I wanted you to be here today, and you couldn’t even show up? I don’t want dinner tomorrow. I wanted us to have dinner tonight with the food I fucking made,” you scream, pushing the dishes down on the floor in anger and letting all the porcelain crash down—along with the pieces of your relationship. 

“Come on. Don’t be angry. I-I’ll be better—“

“It’s always ‘I’ll be better with you’, König.”

Annoyed, König snaps back. “It’s just a day, liebe. Don’t make a scene. You’re blowing this out of proportion,” he growls. 

Your eyes went wild, absolutely seething. There he goes again, dismissing the situation like always. “Just a day?! It’s my fucking day, König! And it doesn’t matter what day it is. I told you this was important to me!! Why can’t you get that through your head?”

“Who cares if I was late to celebrate by a day?!”

“I do! I care! I made all of the food for you!”

Silence envelopes the house and you finally had enough, letting out the words that kept eating you alive for the past few months.  “I wish I never went on that date. It wasn't worth being fucking abducted and ransomed just for a man who can't appreciate the day I was born.”

König’s eyes widened, body stiff as your words pierced his heart. He knew he put you in danger, and he was always shocked when you still decided to be with him. You were the first person to ever accept him like that. To look at him past his face, built, and aura. To stay through his thick and thin. But all this time.. it was your regret all along? All this time you secretly wished you never loved him? Just like that, all the countless nights of worrying and overthinking finally came true for König. Wordlessly, König turns away, slamming the door after him as you’re left standing in the room, the last light of the sand wax fizzles and covers you in darkness. 

You knew you took it a step too far, but… maybe you're just not the person meant for him. Maybe you're not the person who will appreciate König's grand gestures no matter how hurtful it is when he forgets about you. Maybe you're not the person meant to love him, and maybe.. you can live with that. After all, it’s just a day amongst the other 364.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: finally back to writing!! Kinda OOC because I’m not really good with König’s character. Also, you guys should try sand wax candles. They’re so fire (pun intended). Also, addition to the request: 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

check out my other works: ୭!

[bangtanintotheroom]

Just Like Candy (M)(Teaser)

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

🔊 candy - doja cat (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: S.Coups x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words (teaser): 583

• Summary: Following a breakup, Seungcheol is looking for a distraction for the night. You catch his eye with your red lips and the rest is history.

• Warnings/themes: mentions of a breakup, sulky Cheol 🥲, drinking, swearing, one night stand, flirting, making out, dirty talk, handjobs, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), c*me swallowing, strength kink, manhandling, hint of begging

• Notes: Yes, yes, I know. "There goes AJ falling for another leader!" I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT! SO WHAT IF I LIKE A RELIABLE MAN HUH, HUH 🤬 *deep breaths* Anyways. Just enjoy me starting to simp for Mr. Coups and watch as I slowly become a Carat over time 😊

• Teaser Notes: Teasers are a WIP and will not fully reflect the final draft, warnings and themes are subject to change. If you want to be tagged when the final draft is released, either leave a reply or shoot me an ask! PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE PRESENT IN YOUR BIO OR YOU WILL NOT BE TAGGED.

• Taglist: @minttangerines @minisugakoobies @kiestrokes @swga-ficrecs @hyunjinsjeans @firesighgirl

Reminder that I have a permanent taglist if you're interested in all future fics I post!

“Yah, is he on his phone again?”

Wonwoo replied to Seungkwan’s question from the front with, “He sure is.”

Every other occupant groaned in exasperation, Chan peering around him to scold, “Seungcheol-hyung, focus! You’re supposed to have fun with us tonight, not pine over her!”

“Just block her already!”

Seungcheol was quick to snap at Joshua’s quip, “No, because then I’ll look bitter.”

“So?”

Seungkwan turned around in the passenger seat to look directly at him, seeming as if he was about to give the most unhelpful advice ever.

“Hyung, you want my suggestion?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Fuck her feelings, respectfully—” He was quick to throw in that word after the elder’s face began twisting in displeasure. “—she decided to end it and she’s out there living her best life while you’re moping around. Be selfish for once and focus on your well-being!”

Chan joined in, “Exactly! Are you going to let her distract you from having a good time with us tonight?”

The eldest wanted to fight back on instinct, but the more he stewed on his friends’ words, the more he realized that they had a point.

What was the use in getting in his feelings? He’d just end up being the downer of the group and waste the effort they put in to have him get dressed and come out. Even though it had been a while since he went to a party of this size, the tiniest part of him was excited. His ex was the type to avoid get togethers like this, so he often put off the guys’ invites in favor of pleasing her.

But she wasn’t around anymore…

He sighed heavily. Hopefully, he’d be distracted enough that she wouldn’t run through his mind until he got back to his bed and deleted more of their couple pictures.

“No, I’m not.”

“Last chance to back out.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but knit his brows a bit as he pondered. Was he really about to fool around with a complete stranger?

He didn’t need to see Wonwoo’s flabbergasted expression downstairs to know that this was somewhat out-of-character for him. Even when he was single, getting in bed with someone he had only known for a couple of hours was a thought he never entertained. But this was now and he was, to put it lightly, yearning for some physical contact that would keep him distracted for the night.

And quite frankly, he didn’t want to say no to you.

“Seungcheol?”

The light call of his name brought him out of his thoughts, looking down to see you gazing up with mild concern.

“You alright?”

He was quick to nod and smile reassuringly, replying, “Yes. Sorry, just…got in my head for a bit.”

Your expression eased up, tongue clicking as you gave his hands a squeeze.

“Well, we can’t have any more of that. C’mon.”

You maneuvered Seungcheol around so his back was facing the bed now.

“Quit thinking about your ex and focus.”

“Believe me, I’m trying. I might need a little more help on your end.”

With the hint of encouragement in his voice, it seemed to shift you into a more domineering mood, cherry lips twisting into an undaunted grin while you let go of his hands.

“Of course. Even if it’s for a moment—“ All of a sudden, he felt a push to his chest and found himself falling to the bed before looking up at your salacious smile. “—I’ll make you forget all about her.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Magic Touch

Shimmer!Kane x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 12: Anonymous Sex

Summary: Kane's an interesting patient.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for saving my butt yet again and beating. I've gone off topic really because I found it difficult and this is where the story seemed to want to go.

Warnings: hospitals, reader works in the medical profession, kissing, I'm gonna say a bit of dubious content (but everyone's into it, it's just the set up is a bit hmm), biting, touching, Kane making people come with just a touch, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2065

Kane’s reactions to you after his ‘rescue’ were… interesting. 

You were part of the medical team that had helped to keep him alive, spending your spare time while he laid comatose running blood work for the constant tests that were demanded by strict looking army officials. You never got to see the data. The whole team was just being used for the grunt work while faceless others got to assess and ponder over the results. 

You’d managed to figure out some things though, despite all the cloak and dagger. Often sharing knowing looks with your colleagues when new tests were ordered by your shadowy bosses. 

Things started to get strange, or stranger, when he woke up. 

Psychiatrist tests that you weren’t a part of. Constant interviews with high ranking members from all different government agencies. Throughout it all you were told Kane remained neutral, emotionless. Watching the people speaking to him like a spider would approach an insect. A cold glint in his eyes. 

It was obvious that he had come back different. Changed. Someone else. 

You didn’t really notice at first, the looks he gave you. Sure, you were there to do a job, but you also remembered to have some bedside manner. 

You’d chat with him a little, or more accurately, at him while you took blood and vitals. And he would watch you, listen, nod, say the occasional word here and there.

Honestly, other than his quiet disposition, you hadn’t thought anything was that strange. You’d seen weirder just working at A&E on a Saturday night. 

And there was something kind of nice about it, about how he would listen. As if every word that came out of your mouth was important. 

It wasn’t until you were called into a sudden meeting with your team’s supervisor’s supervisor’s supervisor that things were put into a bit of perspective. 

The man, ‘Karl’ he had said his name was, but you were sure that was as fake as the smile he had given you when you’d knocked and entered his office. His fingers had been cold when he shook your hand, his grip a little too hard to be friendly. 

‘Karl’ had made idle chit chat with you for a few minutes while your own anxieties grew like parasites in your stomach before he finally got to the point. 

“You tend to interact with Kane every shift, is that correct?” 

You’d nodded. “Yes, pretty much. I’d have to check the logs to be sure though.”

He’d hardly let you finish before he was speaking again, obviously already knowing your answer before you had even spoken. “Yes, we’ve noticed some… abnormalities from the recordings.”

“Wait,” you’d cut in. You knew about the constant surveillance, that wasn’t so much of an issue, but you assumed there was some kind of accusation of malpractice. “Everything I’ve done has been following guidelines to the letter, the wellbeing of the patient is my top priority, if you’re implying that-”

“No, no, no,” ‘Karl’ had held up his hands, another fake smile on his face. “Not those kind of abnormalities, nothing like that at all. I do apologise, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything of the sort.” He’d paused, breathing in and seemingly revelling in the moment of anticipation as you waited for his next words. 

“The abnormality is Kane’s reaction and interactions with you.” 

“What?” 

“He seems to… converse with you. Talk.”

You’d frowned. “A little.”

“A lot.” He’d put his hands together on the desk. “A lot more than he talks with anyone else. We have a proposition for you.”

You said nothing. 

“Have a conversation with him, 45 minutes, it’ll be monitored obviously. Whatever happens… happens. If he doesn’t talk to you, that’s fine.” 

“What do you want me to talk to him about?” 

“Doesn’t matter, anything you want.” He’d smiled. “You’ll be well compensated financially, of course.” 

You’d said yes when you’d seen the actual figure, you would be a fool not to. Though, there just had to be a catch, didn’t there? That kind of money to just talk for 45 minutes? Not even to ask any questions? 

. 

The room several guards led you to the following day was surprisingly nice. Carpeted, painted in a soft grey with plush sofas. 

Kane was already in there when they’d let you in, locking the room behind you and not even setting foot inside. Like they were pushing you into the lion’s den. 

He was sitting on one of the sofas, facing away from the door. He looked around straight away when you entered and gave you a small upwards twitch of his lips when he saw it was you. An expression that would have been cold and detached on anyone else, but you had become used to Kane over the past weeks. That small movement was a warm greeting.

“Hello Kane.” You say as you sit opposite him. 

“Good morning.” 

You shift a little to get comfortable. “You okay?” 

He nods once, “very well.” This was the same reply he would give you anytime you asked. 

For a moment you look around the room, trying to see if you could spot where the cameras were. You couldn’t. 

“It’s nice to see you.” He says flatly, but you smile.

“It’s nice to see you too.”

“I usually spend my time in here with other individuals.” 

You pause, trying to read anything on his stoic face. “Others?” 

“I often have meetings in here.” 

You nod, waiting to see if he’ll continue. He doesn’t. “You… like the meetings?” 

He takes a moment to answer, seemingly staring straight into your soul. “I feel indifferent towards them.” 

You smile. “That boring?” 

Kane cocks his head to the side, but says nothing. 

“Do they give you anything to do, anything fun to amuse yourself I mean?”

He continues to look at you for a moment. 

“Books, tv, games?” You shrug a little as you speak, “art supplies?” Surely the higher ups didn’t just leave him with no mental stimulation. 

“Something ‘fun’?” He repeats in the same tone and you nod.

“Yeah, like a hobby?” 

“Talking to you is ‘fun’.” He says plainly.

You can’t help the little smile that pulls at your lips. “Yeah?” 

He nods, and shifts a little in his seat. His hands pressed neatly together on his lap. “Being around you is ‘fun’ also.” You’re so used to his calm, even voice but you don’t pick up on the slight change in cadence to his tone.

Your smile widens a little, “that’s nice to hear.” 

He watches you, fixated, his line of sight seemingly glued in place as you glance around again. Once more trying to pinpoint the cameras. It made no sense for them to be concealed surely?

“They removed them.” He says plainly. 

You frown, quickly turning back to him. “I’m sorry?” 

“The cameras. That’s what you’re looking for, right?” It was a statement, not a question. “They’ve been removed.” 

“What?” Your frown deepens. You’re sure Kane’s not lying to you, part of you isn’t sure if he actually could. “Why? Karl said that-”

“He told you this would be monitored.” Kane nods simply. “I asked for them to be removed.”

“Why?” 

“I assumed it would be… uncomfortable for you.” 

There’s an icy touch on the back of your neck, a shiver at his words. Some deep down basic sense of self preservation being activated. “What?” 

“People grow uncomfortable under surveillance, they react differently.” 

“Well… sure. I mean, you’re not wrong, it’s just…”

He cocks his head to the side ever so slightly. “It’s just?” 

“I thought the whole point of us talking was for them to, you know, monitor.” You shrug, not sure how else to phrase it. 

Kane nods, not in agreement, but simply to show that he heard you.

There’s a pause as he seems to be thinking over your words carefully, choosing the right response with a level of precision. 

Instead he stands and sits down next to you, his leg resting against yours. You frown a little, swallowing and taking a breath to question him as you shift to the side to put a sliver of space between you. 

His hand on your cheek makes you pause, freeze as your words catch in your throat. His fingers are warm and gentle as he tilts your head up and towards him, his pressure light as if he was worried he could tear through you like spider silk. 

For a moment he just looks at you, observing your features as if he could decipher some lost hidden knowledge. 

He leans closer and you know what he’s going to do before he does it. You’re not stupid. But for some reason you can’t get your body to move, to raise a hand, to shift backwards. He presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s sweet, gentle. The kind of soft first kisses that only exist in teenage romcoms. 

Your senses finally snap back into your mind and you pull back, breaking the kiss. “Kane, wha-”

He moves forward, his eyes seemingly expressionless as he kisses you again. His grip on your cheek tightens, halting your effort to pull away for a second time. 

The strength of his grip surprises you, the way his fingers slide around to squeeze at the back of your neck. You can’t do this, can’t let him do this. This is breaking every patient doctor code in the book. Not to mention that the room still could be monitored, you’d lose your job. And probably worse. 

You try again to move away, to break the kiss, but his hand tightens. The strong muscles of his arms contracting as he keeps you in place. 

Frustration bubbles under your skin, covering the deep down urge to just relax into the embrace, and you do the first thing that pops into your head. You bite his lip. Hard. 

He groans. 

“Again.” He mutters, his voice thick. He rubs the bridge of his nose against yours, practically vibrating as he leans close for another kiss. He moves closer, pressing his chest to yours and lightly pushing you back against the sofa.

“Kane, I…” You swallow, trying so hard not to get caught up in the feel of him, the intoxicating lidded look to his eyes, how his body feels against yours. “I hardly know you, I don’t know you.

“You do. You did.” He says simply.

You practically do a double take. “What?” 

Kane doesn’t answer, leaning down and mouthing at your neck, licking and sucking until you shiver and a small pant escapes your lips. 

He slips his hand under your clothes, ghosting his fingers along your skin. 

You jump, “Kane…” You wish you didn’t sound so needy, so breathless. 

“Hmm?” He hums against your neck and drags his hand down, sinking under your waistband. 

You pull lightly on his hair, getting enough space between you and him so that you can press your lips to his. 

He groans, kisses you back with a deep hunger that leaves you breathless. He licks into your mouth, rolling and teasing your tongue with his own until you're whining and bucking up against him. 

A damp patch is starting to form in your underwear, and when he lightly touches your clit over your panties you gasp, your back arching. 

You expect him to stroke, to move his fingers. But instead, he presses the very tip of his forefinger flat against your bundle of nerves, firm but gentle. 

And suddenly your world falls apart. 

You tense, moaning and panting as you come suddenly, pleasure exploding behind your eyes and robbing you of thought as you convulse in his arms. Your body pulses, sings and you can’t do anything but hold onto him for dear life. 

He moves his hand a fraction as you come down, taking his lips from yours and smiling ever so slightly as you breathe hard. Sweat beading on your forehead as aftershocks run through your nerves.

“What was that?” You pant. 

“An orgasm.” He smiles a little bashfully.

For a second you think he’s being serious, but you tut and giggle when you see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Let me show you again.” He mutters, leaning closer once more and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slips his fingers under your underwear this time.

Thank you for reading!

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[wongyuseokie]

Sharing Is Caring | l.s.m, k.m.g, x.m.h

☆ 18+ minors dni | ♕ smut | ♥︎ completed

Summary: You and Mingyu have always fooled around, and no one really caught on, but today, Mingyu was feeling rather bold, and so not only do you now have an audience, but you also have two new joiners.  Word Count:  4213 words 

Pairing: Female Reader x Kim Mingyu | Fe. You’dader x Lee Seokmin | Female Reader x Xu Minghao 

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Smut, PWP. Content Warnings: None. It’s a PWP, and honestly, I just wanted to rewrite this for Seventeen’s 97 line. 

Smut Warnings: Dom! Mingyu, Dom! Minghao, Dom! Seokmin. Overstimulation, breast & nipple play. Oral (m & f receiving), face riding, squirting. Mentions of public sex. Pet names (good boy, baby boy, pretty girl), praise kink. Mingyu has a daddy kink. Pussy slapping. Spanking. Cum play. Biting, it’s mild. Hao uses cuffs. OC is a ragdoll. Pray for her. She isn’t walking for a while. They’re kind of competing? I don't know it’s just smutty. Name-calling (slut, cum slut). I don't know y’all. Choking. Kitten. 

Authors Note 1: Also, if you’ve seen this fic before, it’s because it was something I’d published once for a different group, but I wanted to revisit and rework it. Authors Note 2: Thank you so much to @wooahaeproductions and @gyupremacy for beta'ing this very long horny mess. Tagging: @aaniag 💕

Cross Posted to AO3

© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“Mingyu, don’t. He’ll kill you,” you whispered, watching your best friend being an absolute idiot. You watched him lean over the couch where Minghao was sleeping peacefully. You knew Minghao had insomnia issues, so when he did manage to sleep, you didn’t want anyone to disturb him. 

“Make me Y/N,” Mingyu sassed back at you. You know the saying desperate times call for desperate measures? This was one. You walked over to Mingyu and wrapped your arms around his waist, halting his movements. Mingyu melted into your embrace but chuckled.

“Aww, cute Y/N, but that’s not going to do shit,” Mingyu said with a grin as he resumed his position to pounce on Minghao and wake him up. You put your hands under Mingyu’s shirt, sighing at his toned physique. 

“Baby, please,” you whispered.

You’d known him since you were kids and saw him through the rough trainee days to the present, where he and his other members were now selling out stadiums worldwide. To anyone else, it might have seemed like you and Mingyu were dating, but you weren’t. You just fucked.  

This whole arrangement happened one night because you were rooming with Mingyu while visiting him on tour, and you walked in on him pleasuring himself in the shower. He didn’t even look shocked or anything. 

“I have needs; if you are uncomfortable, I apologise. Please close the door, but if not,  feel free to join me.” From the adorable young boy that you knew, Mingyu had grown into one of the most handsome men you had known and a man whose duality sometimes got you wet, if you must admit. You pondered over his proposal for a second and joined him. From that night, you both became fuck buddies, and it was probably the best decision ever.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Mingyu’s resolve at waking up his member dissolved when he felt your arms wrap around his waist. “You’re not playing fair,” he mumbled, and you could feel him pout. 

“Mingyu, look at me,” you pleaded. He turned around so you were pressed into his firm chest, his arms around your waist now.

“What?” he pouted; he could be an absolute baby when required. You didn’t answer him. You stood on your tiptoes and pulled his head down to reach your lips, capturing them with yours.

“What if I kept you busy instead? Let Minghao sleep,” you suggested. Mingyu sighed, never being able to refuse you for anything, and sex was his weak spot. 

“Fine,” he bent down and hoisted you up, legs wrapping around his tiny waist. He walked over to the same sofa where Minghao was sleeping, sat you down with you straddling his lap, and continued kissing you. 

“Mingyu!” you hissed.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, he’ll wake up!” you pleaded, but it seemed like Mingyu couldn’t be bothered. After four years of being your fuck buddy, he knew your body like the back of his hand. He moved his lips to your neck and started sucking, making you suppress a moan. 

“So let him. I can assure you Minghao will enjoy what he wakes up to,” Mingyu said as he smirked against your neck. The thought of someone else watching made you grow wetter, especially if that someone was Minghao.

You’d grown considerably closer to all Seventeen, especially the 97’s. Minghao was kind, funny and sweet, and Seokmin was an absolute angel, always there no matter what. Mingyu, well, he was your best friend, but these three together were trouble with a capital “T.”

You were interrupted from your thoughts of your extremely attractive friends by Mingyu’s hands reaching the bottom of your hoodie and tugging at it. You couldn’t deny how unfairly handsome they were; it sometimes got annoying. You lifted your arms, and Mingyu removed your hoodie. His eyes widened with lust, seeing that you had chosen to forego a bra. 

“Fuck, pretty baby, no bra? Were you hoping to get fucked?” He smirked, his voice low, and you could feel his breath on your nipples. 

“Did it work?” you asked, feigning innocence. Mingyu groaned and rubbed his now hard length against your clothed pussy. 

“Can you feel that, Y/N? Of course, it did.” 

You moved your hands to reach Mingyu’s flannel shirt and unbuttoned it,  helping him out of it. His bare torso, toned body, and arms were enough to make you drool, and there was nothing to soothe the pain in your now aching cunt. 

“Y/N, stop. I want to taste you, baby; I can tell you're probably a dripping mess,” Mingyu said. You blushed, which only confirmed his assumption.

Mingyu moved you and placed you on the sofa. His hands went straight to your trousers, and he wasted no time ridding them of you before taking your underwear along with it. He was greeted with a sight he could never get tired of; your wet pussy, clit swollen, begging for attention. Just as Mingyu was about to place his tongue on your clit, you heard a gruff voice interrupt your state of bliss.

“Seriously, guys? If you’ll have sex, can you at least ask if I want to join?” Minghao smirked as he boldly asked to join you and Mingyu. You tried to cover yourself with a pillow in embarrassment, but Minghao still crawled over to your side of the sofa.

“Don’t be shy, Y/N. I’ve heard you and Mingyu so many times, and Y/N, you have no idea how many times I imagined your pretty lips on my cock. Fuck, do you both know how many bedsheets I’ve ruined because both of you won’t keep it down?” His voice was low and teasing. You shifted your gaze to Mingyu, who looked fucked out at Minghao’s words, but he recovered quicker than you.

“You want her lips, Hao?” Mingyu asked, not a hint of humour in his voice, and Minghao nodded. 

“Oh, interesting. A possible proposition, and I wasn’t invited?” A voice interrupted, and you turned around to be greeted by a shirtless Seokmin, and he was smirking at you. You were practically drooling because of the exchange between Minghao and Mingyu, and now seeing Seokmin shirtless just made you whine. Seokmin laughed at your misery, but not for long; he walked around to the sofa and bent down so his mouth was in line with your pussy.

“Shall I eat you out, princess? Your cunt looks like it’s begging for some love,” he commented. You felt his hot breath fan against your pussy; you squirmed.

“Please, Seokmin, please,” you begged, desperate to feel Seokmin’s lips and tongue on your pussy.

“Okay, princess, don’t hold back. I want to taste you on my tongue.” With that, Seokmin dove straight into your cunt. He didn’t tease; he pushed his thick tongue inside your cunt. He started moving his mouth so that his tongue was thrusting in and out of your pussy. He moved his arm and placed it over your waist, rendering you immobile. You were squirming too much, and Seokmin wanted you at his mercy.

He moved his tongue to your clit, which was now red and swollen, and begging for attention. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit and sucked while his tongue flicked your nub; his flicks were harsh and unrelenting. You felt him insert two fingers into your cunt, his mouth never-ceasing their actions while his fingers thrust in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace. You thought you would come apart right then and there; his mouth felt so good. 

You were so close, and Seokmin knew. He stopped flicking at your clit and gently nibbled it, pushing his fingers deeper into your cunt. Thrusting them upwards, he hit your g-spot. You fell apart on his tongue and let out a slight scream.

Seokmin didn’t stop; he kept lapping at your release and fingering you. The oversensitivity of his actions caused something to snap in you, making you shake violently. You grabbed Seokmin’s hair for support, and your vision faded; you were in utter euphoria.

“Hey, Y/N You okay, pretty girl?” Seokmin asked you, his voice breaking you from your lust-bound spell. You nodded.  He smiled and leaned in,  pecking your lips. You tasted yourself on him. 

“Wait, Seokmin, why are you all we—,” you stopped mid-speech because you realised why he was dripping wet. 

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you whispered. Seokmin smiled and leaned over to where Mingyu and Minghao were. 

“Hear that, Mingyu? I made her squirt. You still can’t do much to your baby girl,” Seokmin teased and shot a wink at you. You heard a growl from Mingyu. as he moved over to you, pushing Seokmin away.

While Mingyu grabbed you by the waist and repositioned you so you were now lying with your back down on the sofa, Seokmin moved over to Minghao and curled up by his side. 

Mingyu glared at you. “Do you see what you’ve done, princess? Now I’m going to fuck you, and I won’t stop until you squirt again. You are in for a long night,” Mingyu teased as he leaned above and kissed you.

“Safeword Y/N?” Mingyu asked. 

“Peaches.”

Seokmin had bruised Mingyu’s ego, and he was unhappy. 

Millions of questions ran through his mind. Were you not satisfied? Did you fake your orgasms? 

How did Seokmin, for the first time, make you squirt? He was pissed, and he was going to take it out on you. He would make you cum, squirt and beg. 

“Y/n, on your hands and knees right now,” Mingyu demanded, and you knew not to disobey, but you were a brat, and you loved to get him worked up so he’d punish you. 

“Baby boy, I’m tired. Seokmin just did a number on me,” you cooed and winked at Seokmin, who smiled and winked back at you. 

“Y/N, don’t fucking test my patience,” Mingyu warned. His voice was now louder and caught the attention of the two other boys, who were sat on the sofa to make their way to your side. Seokmin and Minghao were now sitting on either side. 

You froze in place, not that it took much. Your legs were jelly, thanks to Seokmin. Minghao started peppering kisses to your neck and started sucking, earning a moan from you. 

“Y/N,” Minghao spoke, his deep voice making you dizzy. 

“Yes?” you answered. 

“Listen to the big baby; get on your hands and knees, pretty girl. I’ll make it worthwhile,” he spoke and kissed your lips softly enough, leaving you wanting more. 

Once you were on all fours, you realised that you were facing Minghao, and you felt a dip in the sofa, noticing Seokmin once again move back to sit next to Minghao. You felt Seokmin’s hands on your ass; he was turning you around onto your hands and knees. Simply staring at them, you felt yourself getting wetter. A sharp slap to your ass broke you free of your daydream. 

“Fuck, Mingyu!” Another slap. 

“Fuck Mingyu, baby, I—” One more slap. Mingyu leaned over your body, and you felt his thick, hard length on your back. His large hand went around your neck. 

He bit your earlobe gently and said, “You call me anything but Daddy, Y/N, and you won’t fucking walk for a week. Now I will have my way with you. You squirted for Seokmin. You are a filthy little slut. Only whores squirt like you did,” Mingyu whispered in your ear, and his words shot straight to your pussy. If you thought you could, you would cum at that moment. 

“Mingyu, please fuck me,” You heard him telling you to call him Daddy, but you wanted to be a brat; you wanted him to fuck you hard. There was another slap to your ass. 

“You want to play it like that, Y/N? Okay, princess, you do that. Just know I’m going to use your pussy to store my cum, and you better keep it in there. When I’m done, Minghao can lick it out of your cunt.” 

“Gladly, Mingyu. I want that sweet little pussy on my mouth,” Minghao said in agreement.

Mingyu pushed his cock into your cunt without warning, resulting in a loud moan from you. You’d been sleeping with him for four years, yet his length would always stretch you out, and you welcomed that burn. He started pounding into your cunt, showing no mercy. He wrapped his arm around your waist and snaked his fingers to your clit. starting to rub. 

“Fuck Daddy,” you moaned. 

“So fucking good,” you praised. You were on the precipice of your second orgasm of the night. Mingyu knew and just fucked you harder as he worked his fingers quickly against your clit. You felt something snap another word.., and you came. Mingyu let out a loud groan at your cunt clenching around his cock. He didn’t stop; he just kept pounding into your wet and now sensitive cunt. 

“Daddy, please, too much,” you whined, but you didn’t actually mind.  

“What did I tell you, Y/N?” Mingyu asked.

“That I’m your little cum slut, Daddy,” you replied, moaning. Your words did something to Mingyu because he let out a growl and started rutting his hips into your cunt even harder, at a pace you didn’t think was possible. He wrapped his hands around your neck, choking you. 

“Daddy is pretty close, baby,” Mingyu told you in a low voice; you could tell he was. His breathing was getting more uneven. He suddenly pulled out of your cunt, making you whine at the loss of the contact, only to push back in and continue fucking you. You felt your legs shake, your limbs gave way, and your vision faded for the second time tonight. You were panting and crying tears of pleasure. 

Mingyu was satisfied, he had made you cum twice, and now you had just squirted all over him. He thrust into you a few more times until he reached release and filled your pussy with his cum. 

“Princess, you okay?” Mingyu asked as he softly turned you over and kissed your forehead. 

“Yes, I am.” You were exhausted, and yet you wanted more.

 “Good, pretty baby. Now walk over to Minghao and sit on his face.” You did as you were told, and the minute you placed your cum filled cunt on Minghao’s lips, you felt his arms wrap around your waist. “Don’t you dare let my cum drip out of your pussy. Let him lick you clean.” 

“Ready for me, baby?” 

You did not understand how one man’s tongue could bring you so much pleasure. You fisted your hands into Minghao’s hair, and he licked and sucked Mingyu’s cum out of your pussy. Long strokes of his tongue collected the cum that threatened to spill out of your pussy as he sucked at your cunt, cleaning it of Mingyu’s cum. 

Minghao mumbled something. The vibration shot straight to your now extremely sensitive pussy, and caused you to barrel into your fourth orgasm of the night. Your grip on his hair tightened, and you screamed because Minghao would not stop. 

His arm around your waist meant that he had you at his mercy. He kept flicking your clit, and sucking at it. Alternating between sucking and licking, you were so close. You felt two pairs of lips, one on your neck and one on your breasts.

You opened your eyes—previously screwed shut in pleasure—to find Seokmin’s plump lips on your nipple, sucking and gently using his teeth to tug at your swollen nipples. 

While Mingyu was the one at your neck, he was not kind about it. He was sucking and biting your neck, leaving no part of it untouched. You’d be purple and hiding your neck in a turtleneck for a while, but you didn’t care right now. 

The combined pleasure of all three men on your body had you seeing stars, and you came again, even harder and shook. Minghao licked a couple more times, making you shiver with overstimulation, and he loosened his grip around your waist. 

Seokmin and Mingyu helped to lay you down on the sofa. You sighed in relief as you finally let your body relax on the couch.

You noticed Minghao getting up off the sofa and walking away. 

“Hao,” you whined. You didn’t get to fuck him, and you were so desperate to feel his cock inside you. Mingyu chuckled as they slid two fingers into your wet pussy. 

“Sssh, Y/N. If I know Minghao, he’s just coming back with something to keep you in place,” he smirked as he fingered your pussy. While Mingyu fingered you, Seokmin leaned down to bring his mouth down to your cunt, and licked your now extremely oversensitive clit. 

He sucked and grazed his teeth on your cunt, pushing you straight into your sixth fifth? orgasm of the night. You noticed Mingyu lifting his fingers soaked in your cum to Seokmin’s mouth, who sucked his fingers clean. 

“Fuck, Y/N; you taste so good.” You thought you would not live through what these boys were doing to you. “God, I could honestly eat you out forever.”

Minghao came back with two scarves and a pair of handcuffs. You scoffed. 

“Hao? Seriously, Gucci scarves and Chanel-encrusted handcuffs?” He smirked at your comment.

“You deserve the best, and might as well use something designer when I fuck you so hard that you can’t walk straight when I’m done.” That shut you up quickly.

“Boys, hold the pretty slut down.” You shivered at his words; besides Mingyu, all the boys were shocking you tonight. They were grown men, but the filth coming out of their mouths was new���not that you minded in the slightest bit.

Mingyu and Seokmin grabbed your legs and spread them as wide as possible. You’re now dripping, with your aching cunt on full display. Both men let out a groan at the sight. 

“Hands Y/N”, Minghao spoke as he walked around to the sofa, and he was now standing in front of you as well. You held out both hands to him, and he tied them together with a scarf. Kissing your wrists gently, he then snapped the handcuffs over the scarf. 

“Hao, isn’t that a bit much?” 

Minghao smirked, his eyes dark with lust. “Baby, when I’m done with you, you’ll be glad these scarves provided relief.” With that, he grabbed you by your waist and flipped you over and onto your knees. You were struggling to balance on your knees now that your hands were bound.

You felt your ankles being tied together, too. “Minghao, how the fuck will I move?” You protested. 

“Exactly, baby girl. You won’t. I will fuck you and use your little cunt until I cum understood?” You were stunned into silence. Minghao took your silence as disobedience, and you were punished immediately with a sharp slap to your ass. 

“Yes, I understand, sir.” Minghao moaned at the mention of sir.

He positioned himself behind you and grabbed your bound wrists so your back was pressed into his chest. You were on your knees, ankles bound. Minghao slid his hard, thick and long length into your cunt.

“Ah, Ha—Sir, too much,” you choked out. 

Minghao kept pushing into your cunt, until he fully bottomed you out. 

“Sssh baby, deep breaths, relax. I’ll make you feel good. Okay?” 

You nodded, letting out a hum of acceptance. “Please move,” you begged. Minghao placed a kiss on your back in between your shoulder blades.

Minghao started pushing into your cunt; he began his thrusts slowly and growled at how tight you were. The pain from the stretch subsided and was now pleasurable; the position he had you in had his cock filling you up and hitting your g-spot each time. 

Minghao, on the other hand, was in absolute bliss. His eyes were screwed shut in pleasure. You were so fucking tight, and you were like a vice grip around his cock. 

Minghao bit down on your exposed shoulder and started sucking it. He kept going while he thrust his hard cock inside your pussy. You were in absolute pleasure until you felt something soft at your pussy. You looked down to see Mingyu snaking his tongue along your clit.

“Mingyu, fuck, so fucking good,” you moaned, had it not been for Minghao’s vice grip across your waist, you would have fallen over. You were drowning in pleasure as Mingyu kept licking your pussy. 

“Fuck,” A loud groan came from Minghao as he thrust into you harder and faster.

You felt a hand caress your cheek softly, and you looked to your right to find Seokmin staring at you sweetly. His cock was red, hard and swollen and begging for attention. 

“Seokmin, please fuck my mouth,” you begged. You wanted them all at once and in one go. 

Seokmin walked closer to you and put his hands into your hair, making a makeshift ponytail, as he guided his thick length into your mouth. He let out a loud moan as he felt your warm mouth enclose his cock.

You tapped Seokmin’s thigh to let him know you were ready for him, and he slowly started thrusting into your mouth. Fucking your throat, you so badly wanted to cup his balls and make him beg and cum for you, but your hands were bound. That being said, the rate at which Seokmin was fucking your throat, you know he wasn’t far off. Mingyu’s tongue was still playing with your clit. 

Minghao kept pounding into you and biting your exposed back and shoulder. You were close to cumming, and so was Minghao. You needed to cum. Mingyu knew your body, and he could see it; he replaced his tongue with his fingers and rubbed at your clit. You shook and froze for a moment as you came, making Minghao moan and bite down harder on your shoulder as you tightened even further around his dick.

You knew Seokmin was close, his thrusts were getting sloppy, and he stilled his hips with one final thrust into your mouth. He gently pulled out of your mouth and kissed your lips. His hot cum spilling down your throat. 

“Good girl, Y/N,” Mingyu sat before you and kissed you, his tongue snaking into your mouth, tasting Minghao’s cum and yours. 

“Seriously, yY/N. You’ve been a very good girl.” Mingyu snaked his fingers down to your clit again and fingered your clit harder, and you shook and came again. You had lost count of how many times you came tonight. Minghao pushed into you one last time and stilled his moving hips, his cum painting your walls. He kissed all the spots he bit and undid the ties around your ankle.

Just when you thought you’d get relief of some sort—as you felt Minghao undoing the scarves around your ankles lightly, massaging the area. You were immediately carried and placed on to Mingyu, sitting, his dick hard and waiting for you. 

Minghao carried you onto Mingyu and put you down onto Mingyu’s cock. You let out a strangled cry, you were so sensitive and yet you wanted so much more. Mingyu wasted no time and started thrusting his hips upwards. He set a brutal pace, and you were so fucking close to cumming again. 

“Mingyu, please. Daddy, I need to cum,” you begged, and Mingyu’s eyes softened.

“You will, with me,” and with that, he pounded into your cunt hard as he could. You still needed to finish, and Mingyu immediately put his fingers on your clit and rubbed the swollen nub, making you squirt all over him. You felt him getting close just from how shallow his breaths were. He still his hips and held you close, and came inside you.

You were a sobbing and moaning mess. You felt so good, so worn out, yet you wanted more. You felt Mingyu lift you off his lap and place you on the sofa. He undid your bound wrists, kissing them. He pulled you into his side and started kissing you; his kisses were soft and gentle. Before you could melt into his tenderness, you felt two tongues on your pussy. You tried to squirm away, but Mingyu gripped you harder. He knew he wrecked you.

You looked down to see Minghao and Seokmin at your cunt, lapping up your release and Mingyu’s release. You noticed how both tongues would meet, and the sight had you so close to cumming. 

It didn’t take long for Mingyu to kiss you, all while Seokmin’s lips were sucking on your clit, and Minghaos’s long tongue collected the release in your pussy as you fell apart on their tongues.

The two boys lapped up your release, kissed your forehead, and sat next to you on the couch when they cleaned you up. You were practically curled up in Mingyu’s lap.

“You’re right, Gyu; maybe a fuck buddy isn’t such a bad idea,” Seokmin said with a chuckle. 

“This doesn’t just have to be a one-time thing, right?” You mumbled, loud enough for the others to hear you. 

“No, kitten, it doesn’t,” Mingyu agreed, kissing your forehead. 

[chimcess]

A Picture’s Worth || jjk (I)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut     Word Count: 23.2k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, actual death, crime, robberies, pickpocketing, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, mentions of past torture, body branding (not too graphic), major character(s) injured, STRONG LANGUAGE, Gang tattoos, Abuse (not JK and Reader), JK is a bit of a himbo, but only with his friends, he’s actually quite scary, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, I tried my best, eventual smut, mutual pining, kissing (let me know if I missing anything) Author’s Note:Things were getting out of hand, so I made the executive decision to split this into two parts. This one is establishing plot so no smut (yet). Thanks so much for reading. She’s a big girl.

Listen to the Playlist || cross posted to ao3: here

Five years ago

There comes a point in a child’s life that they begin to ponder over what they will become. Some girls I knew dreamt of becoming lawyers, doctors, or astronauts. I remember there being a time when I had thought of more than the mountains I had lived in, possibly moving to California and starting my life over after I was finished with school. I had even played with the idea of owning a salon. I hoped that I would be pretty when I grew up with bright red hair just like Ariel. It was strange looking back on that time and how little had truly changed. 

While I had, in some ways, deviated from the life my family had wanted for me, I was still lurking in the shadows and biding my time. Instead of hiring me for hits, the players I worked for enjoyed the finer things in life. Patrons of the arts if you will. Staring up at the Rembrandt painting, it was not a wonder as to why.

Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Hoseok in position. Locking eyes momentarily, I gave him a small, polite smile and returned to the painting in front of me. To the security cameras, we were simply two strangers who had a small moment in time. I knew that we were trying to use signals as much as we could without looking suspicious. A smile normally meant that I was confident I could pull this off. Hoseok’s returning nod was his way of saying he was happy with his own assessments.

The heist would take a few more weeks to plan out. Our buyer wanted 18 different art pieces from this museum, something that was doable with our team, as well as 38 pieces of jewelry. Taehyung and Jimin would be in charge of the operation. Walking away from the Rambrandt, I looked over other pieces with the same intensity to not raise suspicions. While the cameras here were not of great quality, they could still see us and that alone was enough to bother me. 

Stealing has always come naturally to me. Second nature. When I was young I pickpocketed, the artform far more refined now that I was much older, and my parents enjoyed how sneaky I could be when I wanted to be. We never stayed anywhere for too long, the last place I had seen them was Aspen six years ago, but my favorite years were London. The Underground was a perfect place to pickpocket. In a day I could swipe over 100 items and no one would be the wiser.

My tastes changed as I grew. There was a time when I hated the idea of being a criminal like my parents were. I disdain violence at the best of times, but there were very few ways of getting out unscathed. It was when I managed to steal jewels from a heavily secured store that I caught the eyes of The Saints. Hoseok was impressed by my attention to detail and offered me a way to get out of my family home. I was sixteen and impulsive. A little over ten years later I was still standing here, pickpocketing the wealthy and giving it to those just as fortunate. It had stopped bothering me years ago, the guilt, but there was always a piece of me that longed for those far away dreams of cutting hair. It almost made me laugh just thinking about it.

“It’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked, suddenly beside me.

Turning, I was confronted with a familiar face. Yoongi hardly changed, his set lips and keen eyes unwavering. There was a long, jagged scar that ran down his forehead, over his eye, and down his cheek. He got the scar when he was still in the Irish Mob back in Boston. He was an earner with those boys and they gave him hell about leaving. Still, he had managed to walk away only to join a different side of organized crime.

“Yes, but not really to my taste,” I joked.

I had never been the biggest fan of abstract work. I liked it a great deal more than landscapes, it was at least interesting to look at, but the lack of effort had bothered me. It would never take off anyway. No one liked over priced paint splatters. Yoongi hummed.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

Taking the cue, I stood as he walked off and began counting back from 500 in my head. Everyone would be heading back to the command now. Everything had been squared away for now. Taking one more passing glance at the Rembrandt, I sighed. Hopefully, when this is all done, I could walk away.

With my head held high, I slowly drifted toward the exit. Taking the time to look over art was another great way to cover my tracks. In order to stay a nobody, I had to be a nobody, and only a nobody would stop to look at a still-life of a bowl of fruit. I never did understand why these things were popular. Then, finally, after five more minutes of “ooo”ing an “ahh”ing at pieces I’ve seen every week for the last month, I was out of the door.

Three years ago

Blinking, I stood motionless as I stared at the cracks in the little apartment’s ceilings. It had been a difficult find, something so cheap in San Diego was a steal even if it was only 300 square feet. Smiling, I threw my duffel bag of belongings onto the futon I had brought earlier that day. Finally, things were going to start looking up.

I had flown in from Kansas the week prior and had made the most of cheap motel rooms until I scored this place. I had always loved California and finally I had made it home. Looking around, I found I was not as upset by the lack of space or functioning stove. In fact, it had been the lightest I had felt in a very long time. Only second to when I graduated from Aveda last fall.

Deciding to pick up what little boxes I had with me, I broke them down and tore them into strips that were easily thrown away. I was lucky the place had come with a small, countertop fridge and microwave. The only sink was in the bathroom, a room that was floor-to-ceiling covered in tile with a toilet, small sink, and a shower head. I would have to wear flip flops just in case. The landlord had recommended using a bucket since the hot water only lasted for about 10 minutes.

I did not have much. I had gotten into the habit of packing light and living even lighter, but I was determined to try this differently. I’ve gotten what I have always wanted and I was going to let anyone, or anything, take it away from me. Going to my duffel bag, I began packing out my folded clothes and organizing them into different piles before putting them away. I had bought a tall, skinny wardrobe at the same GoodWill I had gotten the futon from. 

Calling out to my phone, I asked Siri to play some music and got to work. I hated silence. Using the small drawers on the left side, I stuffed my underwear and pajamas on that side of the wardrobe. The right side was meant to hang nice things on, but I did not own nice things anymore. Instead hung were two pairs of jeans, a few dresses, and some shirts. I only owned black now. It was the dress code for every salon I had ever worked at- including the newest one. My shoes went on the shelves above the drawers and I made a mental note to buy a better pair of sneakers. I wanted to get outside more often.

Putting away the rest of my things was just as quick. My makeup was stored away on the desk that was attached to the wall beside the fridge. It was meant to be a dining area, but I doubted I would ever have company over to make use of it. My few skincare products were safely stored away in the bathroom mirror, and my kit was under my bed for safe keeping. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how sad everything truly was.

“Well,” I mumbled to myself. “Hopefully I can get enough clientele to get out of this shithole.”

At least, I thought to myself, at least I was free. 

With that in mind, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the city. It had been hours since I last stopped for anything and I would have no luck here for the night. Slipping into the hallway, I realized that I was happy. For the first time in a while I felt unadulterated. Things were going to be fine.

Two years ago

Clutching the pizza box with one hand and balancing it on my hip, I cradle my phone with my shoulder as I open the door to my building.

“The earliest I’ll be available is Thursday,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet.

The customer, Jules, cheerfully asked if I had any availability on Sunday instead. Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that the salon was closed on both Sunday and Monday. This would be the third time I had to repeat myself.

“What about Saturday?” She asked, still as clueless as she had been since I had picked up.

“I’m free from 2pm until 3pm, but if you want a haircut and balayage I will need longer than an hour.”

“How long do you need?” Finally, I heard a hint of frustration slipping through her otherwise cheery voice.

“If you want the full layered balayage it can take up to three hours for hair as long as yours is. It can be shorter if you just want a partial- between 45 minutes to an hour and a half.”

Huffing up the stairs, I struggled to open the door to my floor and used my foot to keep it open while I awkwardly hobbled. Rolling my eyes, I wanted to pull my hair out. This would be the fourth time now.

“I can put you in Thursday morning from 8am until noon. I can also do Friday from 5pm until 8pm. I’m not available again until the following Wednesday.”

Jules hummed, unable to stay silent I found. We had been on the phone for twenty five minutes and I was beginning to get a migraine. She was sweet, and I appreciated her never ending patience, but I was not blessed with the same superpower. I had never been known for my temperament or politeness. I only had patience when money was involved. Shoving my door open with my shoulder, I willed those thoughts away. That was the last thing I needed to think about right now.

Jules was going to make me go rob a fucking bank at this rate. Banks weren’t even my thing. That brought a smile to my face and I put the pizza down on the single counter I had in the kitchen. 

“I guess Thursday will work then. I was just hoping to get it done before my birthday.”

Pausing, I sighed heavily. Wonderful. She was a guilt tripper. Little shit.

“What day is your birthday?” I asked.

“Oh! It’s Tuesday. My girls and I are going to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate.”

And despite my better judgment, I opened my calendar and began looking at my schedule on Tuesday. Knowing I had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker, I just went right out with it. 

“We can try something if you’re open to it.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Jules asked, voice perking up.

“I can give you a partial balayage Tuesday and then you can come back Thursday to finish the rest if you want to after seeing the results.”

Jules squealed and began talking very quickly, her excitement palpable. I cringed away from the speaker of my phone.

“That would be Ah-mazing! What time on Tuesday could you see me?”

“I had a cancellation first thing in the morning. I’m free from 8am until 9:45. We’ll get as much as we can during that time.”

“Oh! I can definitely make that. Can we do the haircut on Tuesday instead of Thursday?”

Biting my tongue, I had to stop the smart ass comment I wanted to make from coming out. She was obviously very young or had little experience going to a salon. Still, it’s common sense that we would cut first. I’m not wasting products like that.

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I settled on.

“Thanks so much, Y/N! See you Tuesday!”

“See you then, Jules. Before you go, can I get some information from you so I can put you down properly?”

After getting her full name, phone number, and email address, I let her go and logged into the salon’s appointment system to add her in. Our receptionist had quit two months ago and we were having a hard time finding a replacement. I tried to tell Tony he needed to raise the pay but he was not budging. Right now we were all stuck keeping track of everything ourselves. 

The pizza was not very hot anymore but was warm enough to not be too bothersome. Happy to have some extra money coming in, I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda from it. I bought a small cart to put my microwave on. The mini fridge just happened to fit perfectly below it. The small Keurig I bought myself for Black Friday was right beside the microwave. A snug fit but it worked. Taking a bite of the pizza, I leaned against the counter and groaned.

I was so happy to be home.

Home. It was a word I was still hesitant to say. It was hard to believe things were permanent even after all this time. Some nights I stared up at the ceiling and waited for a knock on my door. Even if Hoseok promised emergencies only it was difficult to know what the guys would consider an emergency. That world was so far removed from this new reality of mine that I feared I was losing my edge. Would I even be able to help them anymore? 

With doubt and a recurring nightmare, I fell asleep and dreamt of casinos and Rembrandt.

One year later

Sweeping up the floor, I glanced around the room to find myself alone. 

“Great,” I huffed. “I’m going to have to talk to Tony about this bullshit.”

It had been the third time the new hire, Sasha, had left without helping with cleanup. First he snuck out of the back when he was helping Tiesha, and the last two times had been with me. While we tried to keep the boss out of the personal issues we had at the shop, I was not about to let some 19-year-old walk around like he’s above it all. Angrily, I kept sweeping and hoped that the bastard got stuck in the worst traffic getting back on the I-5. 

Walking over to Andrea’s station, I rolled my eyes. She always forgot to put her combs in the sterilizing solution. Making quick work of that, I went around checking everyone’s stations to be sure it was all in order. Even Sasha’s. His desk was immaculately cleaned and I gritted my teeth harder. Seems like he’s one of those people. Feeling petty, I skipped sweeping under his vanity and kept going. Not like it made much of a difference anyway. Maybe I should steal his wallet tomorrow and help him look for it.

Fucking idiot.

No, I scolded myself. I am not that person anymore. I would definitely not go back to that lifestyle for Alexander Ivanov. Reminding myself that he was just a spoiled little brat, I continued sweeping hoping it would calm me down long enough to clear my head. If I let any of those ideas foster that would be bad. I’d have every valuable item that boy owned by lunch.

Suddenly the front desk phone began to ring and I chose to ignore it. It was five minutes after closing time and I did not feel like dealing with anyone else today. Sasha had pissed me off enough. I did not want some snotty customer adding to it. The ringing stopped and I was satisfied that they simply left a voicemail. 

Turning to go back to the staff room to gather the Swiffer, I was stopped in my tracks by the phone. A part of me wanted to answer it now. It had to be the same person. Still, I was off the clock and that was not a part of my job description. Destiny would handle it in the morning. The ringing stopped. I started walking. It started up again.

Peeved but resigned, I walked to the front desk and checked the number flashing on the screen. It was from out of state. Figures. Usually clients who wanted to come in on vacation called without realizing the time zone difference. Forcing a smile to my face, I picked up.

“Mane Street, this is Y/N speaking. How can I help you?”

“Ten minutes.” The line died.

I knew that voice from anywhere. Shaking, I placed the phone back on its modem and took a second to gather myself. Whatever the emergency was, I only had ten minutes to finish cleaning and get outside. Knowing Hoseok, he would be waiting for me near my car. Better yet, he’d already be in the passenger seat.

Scrambling, I began to mop the floors and Windex the mirrors. I refused to let this unexpected visit stop me from performing my job. I was happy Sasha had left. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost. You have definitely heard one, my subconscious screamed.

I was locked up eight minutes later. I had been keeping count in my head just as I always had before. It was unsettling just how quickly I had transformed back into the person I had once been. Who was I fooling? I’ve been covering her up with scissors, a shitty studio apartment, and take out. That did not change the overseas accounts, fake names, and stolen jewelry I’ve kept. That doesn’t change the stolen art hanging on my walls.

Rounding the back of the store, I was not surprised to see my vehicle was the only one still there. Squinting, I could see the silhouette of a person’s head in the passenger side. The street light just in front of the pickup was facing the front, their side profile obscured by the light, but I would recognize Hoseok anywhere. He was hard but soft, jagged but gentle, and most importantly, his face was oval with a pointed chin. Anxiety bubbling in my stomach, I put on a brave face and marched forward. I would be right on time.

Hoseok did not say a word as I slid into the driver’s seat or when I closed the door. Not waiting for him to make a demand, I started the engine and turned on the AC. It was stuffy. Hoseok continued to look straight while I buckled my seatbelt and put the truck in reverse.

“Don’t go home,” He finally said.

Dread filled my stomach but I did as he said. Instead of turning left, I went right and headed for the little diner I enjoyed getting a late dinner at. It was the best place for steak and eggs. I was not sure if Hoseok would be hungry but I did not care. We never really thought about those things before.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing what you like,” He spoke again, his voice still gentle. “You look very nice, too. Like the new hair.”

I was always unnerved by this side of Hoseok. He was typically a very loud, energetic, and passionate man. Soft spoken and Hoseok had never gone together. Then again, it had been almost five years since I had seen him. A lot could change within that time. That, or whatever he was going to tell me would require softness. I hoped it was just a personality change from getting older. 

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad to see you’re healthy.”

Finally, he cracked a smile. “Hadn’t realized you thought about me at all.”

I scoffed, “Of course I think about you. I think about all of you very often.”

This seemed to throw him for a loop. It was weird to speak so openly about my feelings. We had always gone about life with coldness. Being sharp and intense was the only way to survive out there. If anyone saw you as weak or vulnerable then you were finished. That was why Yoongi usually acted as a middle man. He was the hardest, coldest, most impenetrable wall there ever was. Just looking into his eyes you could see that. Shivering, I recalled the time he killed a man with a set of chopsticks while we were in Korea. 

“We think about you, too,” Hoseok said, sounding far away.

Turning into the diner’s parking lot, I turned off the engine and got out. Hoseok followed closely behind me and I asked him if he wanted anything.

“I hear the steak and eggs are nice,” He commented, eyes downcasted.

“Is Taehyung keeping tabs on me?” I sneered, anxiety turning into anger.

Taehyung was the tech guy when he wasn’t stealing jewels. He was also a royal pain in the ass who never knew when to cool it. He had been the most upset when he heard that I was leaving the crew and I would not put it past him. Taehyung was just that kind of guy. The gesture was kind, I was certain of that, and came from a place of love. Still, I had asked to be left alone. It seemed like no one really accepted that.

“I tried to stop it but it’s impossible to keep track of everything he does,” Hoseok admitted. “After a while we just accepted the fact that he wouldn’t give it up. He is trying to check in less and less, though. He’s just worried someone will come around and we won’t know about it.”

“And that’s how you knew where I worked?”

Holding the door open, Hoseok thanked me before going inside. Doris smiled at me when I walked inside. She was an elderly woman who liked to help me with my Sudoku puzzles on Sunday mornings. Eyeing Hoseok curiously, I waved at her before finding an open booth. I normally sat at the bar but I did not want prying eyes. Doris would not go away if we sat there and Hoseok was obviously wanting privacy.

“Hey sugar,” Dixie, a waitress from Alabama, greeted us.

She put down two menus and asked us what we wanted to drink. Hoseok ordered a coffee while I got a glass of chocolate milk. The man looked me up and down, amusement coloring every one of his features. I waved him off and looked at the menu. If he ordered steak and eggs I would order something else. Hoseok was a big fan of sharing food even if we both had our own portions.

Hoseok, like many of the guys from the crew, was South Korean. He was born in Gwangju, a city in the southern part of the country, and moved to the US with his friend Namjoon during university. Namjoon went on to become a campaign manager in New York City while Hoseok became an associate of the Gambino family after killing a few guys. Over time the two went their separate ways, but Hoseok always spoke fondly of him. Last he heard, Namjoon had moved to Seoul and was working at the Blue House.

“You all figured out what you want?” Dixie asked, reappearing with our drinks.

Hoseok ordered the steak and eggs while I got their “Rising Roadhouse'' meal. It came with waffles and I knew that would make Hoseok happy. When we were alone again, Hoseok sighed.

“It’s Jimin,” He said.

Bracing myself, I leaned in closer so we could speak quietly. The diner was almost empty at this time of night and I was nervous. This was shit no one needed to hear about. Hoseok got closer to me.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, whispering harshly.

“He’s gotten into some shit with Winter Hill again. Yoongi bailed him out but things are going to shit. They want us to get some things for them to make up for it. We weren’t sure where to go, and Georgie was very specific.”

I breathed through my nose. Jimin was my closest friend during my time with the crew. We thought the most alike, worked the best, and trusted one another. However, we were also hot heads. I had worked on myself tremendously over the years, but Jimin had the worst kind of anger. Talking out the mouth. And to talk to somebody in Winter Hill the way I assumed he had? Jimin was asking to lose a finger. That’s if he hadn’t already. Looking at Hoseok, he seemed to know what question I had on my mind.

“Yoongi made him cut the first joint off. I told him to write an apology letter in blood. I also sent the boss the piece in a medicine jar. Just to be sure.”

Grimacing, I rubbed my forehead. I had almost forgotten the way they do things in the mafia. The letter in blood, however, seemed more of a New York thing. I’d have to get clarification on that later. Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head.

“Unbelievable,” I mumbled absentmindedly.

On one hand, I was very angry that either of them would humiliate Jimin like that. On the other hand, I knew that the boy had put them in a very, very fucked up spot. Either they make amends and punish him or they lose the entire East Coast. If Boston doesn’t want anything to do with them, New York will become weary as well. Even if Hoseok was a Red Pull at one time, he is still an outsider. He was still just an associate. 

“What is he looking for?” I finally asked, leaning back in.

“Jewelry. Said they wanted something ‘your old girl’ would like. Said you’d know what to do.”

I smirked. Georgie Boy had always been impressed with my taste. Still, I was not sure about getting involved with all of this. In order to do so would mean helping them stake out a place and I was not going there. I had made my peace. Still, I could not help the part of me that felt excited. I squashed it like a bug.

“I’m not helping you with anything,” I said.

“I’m not asking you to,” He replied. “Just tell us if you’ve seen anything noteworthy lately.”

Dixie came back with our food and I used it as a distraction. I needed time to think. Hoseok and I ate off of one another and I continued to sit and ponder over the new things I had seen at the museum in town. I had gone many times, I had always tried to desensitize myself to the feeling I got when I walked in, but each time I looked around. I knew where every single camera was, I knew how to get into the back, and I was familiar enough with the security system to work around it. Every detail of a heist had already formed in my head that I refused to act on. Just as I knew every museum all the way up to Orange County. There were quite a few jewelers that had caught my eye as well. Still, I knew my answer after a few minutes of silence.

“His daughter’s birthday is soon, isn’t it?” I clarified, making sure my memory serves me well.

“In a few weeks,” Hoseok nodded.

“There’s a pair of earrings at Beverly Hills Jewelers,” I started. “They’re 2 carat, T.W, diamonds. They’re heart shaped. Halo. They’re beautiful.”

“Price?”

“I believe $15,000. They have some nice tennis chains as well that could match.”

He hummed, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

I nodded, “I’ll include a personalized letter as well as a ring from my own collection if that helps.”

Hoseok smiled brightly at me. I knew that had pleased him. Georgie Boy would also be happy. His little girl gets some nice gifts and he gets to wave his dick around like the narcissist is is. In my head, I was already trying to remember the layout of the store. I had only gone inside twice when I took a trip to Beverly Hills. I was having a rough day and I wanted to get back in my element for a while. Scoping out places was always a relaxing thing for me to do. I ended up buying a necklace while I was there so they wouldn’t become suspicious of me. Still, I would have to see it again and show the guys what I was talking about so they could do the hit. That place was heavily secured.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok said, pushing the last piece of steak closer to me.

Grinning at him I replied, “It was an emergency.”

And then I popped the steak in my mouth and savored the taste. Just for now I would have a little bit of chaos. It would just be Hoseok and I, so that made the guilt lessen. At least this wasn’t something I would have to actually perform. Still, I thought to myself, I was incredibly bored without the little bit of chaos I had before.

Present

Laughing, I cut another piece of brown hair off. Jules stared at me, her hands covering her mouth, while she shook. She was a regular now, always got the same treatment, but when she called about her appointment last week she asked for a bob. Well, giving it to her, it was difficult to imagine just how upset she would become.

Her mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer and she wanted to show her that she was standing with her. The chemo had made chunks fall out and her mother decided to buzz her head. I had been the person to do that and give her a pamphlet of local stores she could go to and buy nice wigs. Jules, however, had called me late and said she wanted to donate her own hair for her mom. Tony had recently registered the salon with Locks of Love and trained us all in it. Sasha had been the most excited about the prospect. His mother had died from cancer when he was in highschool. 

Jules’s hair was thick, dark brown, and wavy. Everything about it was perfect and she was a dream to work with. She always took things in stride and tipped well. Today, I was worried if she would ever come back. 

Her hair was long enough that we could keep it at her shoulders. She had always kept it past her butt, just barely grazing her upper thighs, and took pride in it. I was still planning to give her plenty of highlights and a blowout- on the house. I had nothing but love for the girl and I knew how difficult this would be for her. Glancing at Tiesha, she smiled.

“Girl, what are you crying for?” She joked, parting another section of her client’s hair.

I recognized her but was not sure of her name. She always came in for installations or silk presses. Tiesha was always happy to see her, at the very least, so I knew she was a nice enough person. 

“I don’t know,” Jules whined back, sniffling and rubbing her reddening eyes.

“Now, you are too damn pretty to be looking like that,” She replied, braiding back another section. “Make an appointment with momma and I’ll hook you up.”

I scoffed, “I can do extensions, too.”

“Oh, I know. But you’re most definitely a colorist. Julie, baby, Ty will take good care of you, okay?”

“Your mom will be very happy,” Sasha chimed in, his Russian accent thick. 

Jules nodded, “Yeah, she will.”

I smiled to myself. That was the best motivator to get through this. I kept as much length as I could and I was still going to try to make her feel pretty with the new style. She had said her friends were excited but her boyfriend was conflicted. He loved her hair. That made me frown. Who the fuck says that to their girlfriend? Especially one who’s doing it for their sick mother.

“I’ve never gone this short before,” Jules said, her composure coming back. “It’s scary.”

“Don’t worry,” Sasha soothed, cleaning up from his last client. “You’ve got the best in the house. Y/N’ll take care of you.”

I winked at the boy. Sasha had grown on me considerably since he was first hired. I had not gone to Tony about his skipping after all, instead I cornered him at work and told him if he ever ditched me again I would get him fired. We were rocky after that but I knew his respect for me had gone up. A friendship blossomed when he confessed he was clueless about doing color. Sasha was an amazing stylist and his precion was otherworldly, but Destiny was right to never give him color clients. I spent a few nights helping him practice on some mannequin heads and he followed me around like a puppy. He had even agreed to clean up alone for two nights while I was in Beverly Hills helping Hoseok scope out the place. We were thick as thieves after that.

“I know that,” Jules cracked a smile. “She always takes care of me.”

“I’m flattered,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you.”

Her smile grew. Jules had been very excited about free coloring. I had told her I was giving myself free reign, and I wondered if she thought I was going to go manic pixie on her. Hopefully some lowlights and babylights would suffice. We had never gone darker before and I thought it would suit the new cut well. 

Cutting in her layers, I was happy with how it looked. Her hair framed her face nicely and she would still have enough length to play around with it if she wanted. Jules was a fan of those half-up, half-down looks. Using my comb, I ran through her hair and cut. So far, she had not looked back at the mirror. She seemed nervous too. 

“Do you want me to cut your bangs blunt or keep them split?” I asked.

Jules perked up, “Oh! I was actually thinking about trying a new bang style.”

I nodded, “Do you have a picture?”

She opened her gallery and pulled it up. I smiled to myself. Jameela Jamil really did pull off the schoolgirl bangs. 

“So in between?” I walked around so she was facing me. 

“Do you think it’ll look nice?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip.

I studied her face for a moment. 

“You’ll look great, but it might take some time to get used to. They’re a bit more maintenance than blunt or curtain.”

She smiled, “I figured that.”

Working quietly, I began to trim her bangs into the correct shape. They will look their best after I finish styling the rest of her hair. Jules loved it when I straightened her hair after our visits. She never had the patience for it at home and it made her feel special when she got it done here. I would have to let her know that her bangs will look pretty if she curled the longer side pieces to blend them in with her natural waves. With the cutting done, it was time to start the lowlights.

“When is your next appointment?” I asked Sasha.

He was sitting in his chair and texting someone on his phone. He glanced at me before getting back to his screen.

“About twenty minutes. He’s new.”

“Oh, a man?” Tiesha dramatically emphasized the man part. It was not often that men booked with us. Sasha had gone to barber school and did amazing work, but for some reason the idea of going to a salon bothered most men. “He from out of town?”

“I think so,” The Russian nodded. “He definitely sounded foreign. I couldn’t tell where from. Maybe Asia?”

I froze for a moment. I took a breath. There was absolutely no way that any of them would do that. Then I thought of Taehyung. Absolutely not, I scolded myself. That boy feared me more than anybody else. I would ring him by his neck and then let Yoongi know about it. Besides, I said emergencies only. They would have scheduled with me if they were trying to talk. Walking back to my chair, I placed the dye and bleach down on the metal tray next to me. Opening one of the drawers at my desk, I grabbed some latex gloves and foil.

Getting started was simple. Getting the brown, I began painting sections of her hair and foiling them. The foil was not really necessary, but I always got nervous that the parts I did not want colored would get touched. Lowlights were more sparsely added, and unlike highlights, never layers. Making my way around her head, I was excited to see if she would like it. I only went a shade darker than her natural color, so the color contrast was not extremely stark. The highlights were the most important part of the look.

Foiling the last piece of hair, I took the bowl to the sink near the back as well as the brush I was using. Tossing them in and removing my gloves, I heard the bell chime and Sasha’s customer service voice begin. No one could beat Tiesha’s, that woman had client relationships like no one I had ever met. They adored her.

“Come sit and we can get started,” Sasha seemed more excited than usual.

I guessed the guy wanted something a bit different from his normal caseload.

“Alright,” I sighed, clapping my hands. “Let's get this bleach started.”

Walking back into the main room, I paid no mind to the customer sitting in Sasha’s chair. Jules was FaceTiming with someone and I grinned when I recognized her mom’s voice. She seemed very cheery today.

“Oh, I love that length on you,” Martha gushed, her accent only picking up on certain words.

“Gracias, mami,” Jules beamed. “Do you think Carlos will like it?”

Martha waved her hands around animatedly when she talked. I had learned that from the many times she came to the salon with Jules. Now, she was shaking them violently.

“Who cares?”

I laughed and got to work on her highlights. 

“I said the same thing,” I chimed.

The three of us talked as I worked. Martha always enjoyed asking me about the craziest customer of the week, and I usually indulge her. This week it had been a very convoluted, pastel rainbow color job. She wanted the top half white and the bottom portion colored. She booked out my entire day, gave me hell about every insignificant detail, and then left a $2 tip. Sasha got to hear me rant and rave about it when we were cleaning that night.

“She’s never allowed in my chair again,” I finished, setting a timer for everything. 

The lowlights had been sitting for twenty minutes while the babylights would need about 15 in order to develop the way I want them to. Thinking, I was certain the lowlights would be fine going two minutes over the usual time. They would be hardly noticeable regardless. 

“You’ve had worse,” Sasha pointed out.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But those women tip well. I don’t care how rude you are- money is money. That chick is a pain in the ass without the benefits.”

“She has nothing on Kimberly,” Tiesha joked. 

I groaned, “God, don’t even put that name into the universe. She’s due back soon.”

Sasha laughed. “She does pay very well. Don’t blame you.”

“Who’s Kimberly?” Jules asked.

I gave Tiesha a look before answering her.

“She’s a regular. Tony was her go-to guy, but he’s only in twice a week and it doesn’t line up with her schedule. He sent her over to me. Let’s just say she takes picky to a new level.”

Jules snickered, “What does she like to get?”

“Usually a platinum blonde, layered cut. On paper it’s not the most difficult thing in the world, but she makes it much more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Complicated?” Tiesha exclaimed. “That woman is super rude, always late, and acts like she knows everything. I’d tell that bitch to kick rocks.”

Her client laughed out loud.

“That might be true,” I reasoned, checking the foils. “But, she always tips well and shouts me out on her socials. So, can I really complain? Besides, I’m used to her.”

Checking the foils again, I was happy with the color they were and decided to take the foils off early. Stopping my timer, I asked Jules to walk over to the rinsing station. I was happy this was my last client. Sweeping up the hair, I left it in the dustpan until I was ready to begin the tedious task of preparing it for donation. Putting on a new pair of gloves, I willed this day to be over already.

I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hobokan. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.

Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.

The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.

Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.

There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.

Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before. 

Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.

“Stop!”

Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

Without saying anything, I aimed for his left shoulder and fired. The silencer muzzled the shot, though the pop was still nasty. It worked better with a pillow added to the equation. I doubted any of my neighbors would notice the sound, however. The man shouted, stumbled back, and leaned against the fridge.

“You shot me,” He exclaimed, shocked.

“Who the fuck are you?” I barked, aimed for his other shoulder.

“You wait to ask me after you-”

I shot again. He gritted his teeth and sank to the floor. The wounds were leaking blood but I tried to not let it bother me. This guy broke into my house. This time, I aimed for his right knee.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“Jungkook,” The man, Jungkook, answered. “I’m with The Saints.”

Lowering the barrel of the gun, I stared at him for a second. He was with my crew? Since when? 

“Who sent you?” I asked, aiming at his chest now.

If he was going to get found out, he might be more inclined to lunge before I could call anyone.

“Yoongi.”

Slowly, I reached into my back pocket and got my phone. I was relieved the screen hadn’t cracked during the outfall. Slowly, keeping my eyes on Jungkook, I started typing in the number I knew by heart. If he was lucky, Yoongi would pick up. If not, then we weren’t moving until someone did. After the second ring, a rough voice greeted me.

“August.”

Training my gun on his head, I spoke.

“There’s someone claiming they know you in my apartment.”

After a few seconds, Yoongi’s voice was hard when he replied.

“Who is it?”

“Says his name is Jungkook,” I replied evenly.

I was fully prepared to pull the trigger. Jungkook stared the barrel down without fear. I only hoped he would go down quickly and quietly. 

Yoongi sighed harshly, “Fucking Jimin.”

Gripping the handle tightly, I placed my finger on the trigger. I only needed the okay now.

“He’s fine,” Yoongi was annoyed. “I sent Jimin but I guess he got the kid to go instead.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I put the gun down. Jungkook visibly relaxed then and moaned in pain. Raising a hand, he cradled his left shoulder and hissed in pain. 

“Fucked him up,” I admitted. “He was in my apartment when I got home.”

Yoongi hummed, “Take care of him. He’ll let you know what’s going on. We have a problem.”

He hung up before I could respond.

I hated when he did that. I had no idea who Jungkook was, or what he was here to tell me, but we were on the same team. And I just shot him. Twice. Putting the gun back in its original spot, I reached a little further behind it and retrieved my first aid kit. Jungkook sagged in relief. 

“Sorry,” I apologized, helping him take his shirt off. “Didn’t realize you were with us.”

Jungkook hissed when I applied alcohol to the wounds. It would take me a while to get his patched up, but I was capable of doing it. Years of friendship with The Saints would do that to you. Looking at Jungkook, I was taken aback by how attractive he was.

All of the Saints were good looking, but this guy had an aura about him. His hair was wild, pitch black, and down to his shoulders. His skin was gently tanned with small moles dotted sporadically across his body. What caught my attention the most was the shiny, silver lip ring he donned. That was an oddity in our world.

“My fault, shouldn’t have broken in without a warning,” He replied.

“I saw the bike outside and thought you were Jimin.”

He hummed then winced. I knew those bullets did not feel nice. Taking my time and trying to be gentle, I used a pair of tweezers to get them out. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he drew blood. 

“Yeah,” He breathed out. “Let me borrow it for the ride.”

“Park,” We both knew what I meant by that.

For the next hour we sat in silence. He let me work and I listened to every sharp intake of breath, groan, and moan. I felt guilty about everything, but I also had a certain level of apathy. The guy was nobody to me. Not really. Same crew doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still, if they sent him here then that meant they trusted him enough to come. That told me a lot about him.

After I placed gauze over the stitches, Jungkook finally spoke again.

“Jin hyung said you were harmless,” He chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s wrong.”

Ignoring his comment, I went to find him something to wear. I doubted he would be able to fit any of my things. He was huge, a tall man with big arms, but I could make something work. Grabbing a loose fitting dress, I threw it to him.

“I don’t have anything for a man, so that will have to do.”

He nodded and put the dress on without complaint.

“I’ll pick up something for you later,” I continued. “Did you come alone?”

Jungkook shook his head, “Hyung’s around. He was going to come but an old friend called so he sent me.”

“Kai?” I wondered, already knowing the answer. 

Jimin and Kai were good friends. They had known one another since they were kids and got involved in crime together. I’d only met the guy in passing the few times he had visited Boston, but I was not very familiar with him. I knew he was a drug runner on the west coast but that was where my knowledge stopped.

“Yeah, said they had business or something.”

I hummed, “Would you like to lay down for a moment?”

Jungkook was very obviously in pain. He tried to deny it for a minute but ultimately took my offer. Going to the fridge, I pulled out a can of Ginger Ale and gave it to him. He accepted it readily.

“Sorry about the gun,” I offered, sitting on the floor. “Jin’s right. I’m usually pretty harmless. I didn’t even own a gun until I left The Saints.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t expecting company.”

Opening my own drink, I eyed him. He was far too calm. My guess was this was not his first time being shot. Trying to find other wounds was pointless, however, he was too clothed. I hadn’t even thought to check when I was helping him earlier.

“Why’d you come inside anyway?” I asked.

Jungkook grinned ruefully.

“Hyung said he’d call you.”

That pulled a laugh out of me. Park probably forgot about it. For someone as dangerous as he was, he could be irresponsible. I remember when we were scoping a jewelry store together a few years back, Jimin had completely forgotten where the cameras were by the time we left. I had to go back myself a few days later to make sure his guesses were right. We had never let him live it down. Yoongi did not think it was very funny.

“Typical,” I said.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed. He was so completely at ease in my presence it was unnerving. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked at him in bewilderment. He was so much like Taehyung, trusting and easy going. It was difficult to imagine what role he played in the crew. He could have taken my place but I doubted he was as good. He had come here, hid behind my door, and then ambushed me. Then he was surprised when I acted like he was an enemy. Chuckling, I put my drink down. Yeah, just like Taehyung.

“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes still closed.

Wiping the smile off my face, I replied. “Just thinking.”

We did not talk again. I was sure Jungkook had dozed off, but he kept waking back up again. Getting up, I began looking for some pain medicine to no avail. I had not needed to put myself to sleep in a long time. Grabbing my keys from the floor, I told Jungkook I was heading out for a bit. I got no response. Patting myself down, I knew I did not have my phone and picked it up from beside the bed. Jungkook was lightly snoring.

Slipping from the room, I locked up and went downstairs. Typing in the last number I had for Jimin, I was not surprised that it was no longer in service. He changed phones like you change clothes. Deciding to call Taehyung, I went to my contacts to find him. He was the only person I saved.

“Hello?” His voice was deep and hoarse. 

Glancing at the time, I realized it was much later than I thought. 

“Sorry about the time,” I replied. “It’s Mouse.”

I heard shuffling on the other side. Taehyung had gotten himself a girlfriend, Jennie, and I was almost positive she was relatively clueless about his life. The last time I talked to Hoseok, he had said she thought he was a tech guy who was helping a start up. He must have been with her now if his silence was anything to go by.

“Sorry,” He said, voice low. “I’m not alone.”

“I just need Park’s number and you can get back to bed.”

Saying the numbers slowly, I typed them into my keypad as I made my way through the dark streets. 

“Thanks,” I stopped walking once I got to the gas station around the corner. “Get some sleep.”

“It was good to hear your voice,” He replied, more awake than he had been. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Night, V.”

“Night, Mouse.”

Hanging up, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and walked into the store. It was deserted except for the cashier. Giving me a stiff nod, I ignored the man before going to the back of the store and getting some bottled water. I never trusted the tap in the building. Afterwards, I got a bottle of Nyquil and Advil before going to the register.

“Let me get a pack of Marlboro Black Menthols,” I told the cashier.

Taking out my phone, I took my ID from the attached wallet as well as my debit card. The man held the pack of cigarettes and took my ID. Briefly looking it over, he scanned the barcode before scanning the cigarettes. Handing the ID back to me, he began scanning my other items before bagging them.

“Your total is $26.87.”

Nodding, I inserted my card and typed my pin. Putting my card back into the small wallet, I put my phone into my pocket and took the bag.

“Have a good night,” I said.

“You too,” He replied.

Leaving the store, I opened up my keypad and pressed the call button. Jimin picked up after four rings.

“Hello?” He answered, voice brightly and bubbly.

He always answered unknown numbers like that just in case. Jimin always prioritized having the upper hand over anything else. Anyone looking for Park would never connect him to the voice on the other side. I, however, was familiar enough with him to see through the facade.

“You got your boy hit,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “I had to give him a dress and Nyquil after popping two in him.”

Jimin laughed loudly, his fake voice gone. This was why we were friends. Our senses of humor were far too warped due to our upbringings. In another world we would have been enemies belonging to different clans, but I liked this timeline far more. Park was a great guy when you looked past the insecurities, anger issues, and tendency to seek violence.

“Jungkook’s wearing a dress?” He exclaimed, still laughing. “God, you have to take a picture for me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Explain why he’s here. I would ask him but I stepped out to get some medicine for him.”

Jimin’s laughter abruptly cut off. That feeling of dread returned. If Park was getting serious then that meant whatever the situation was must be more than I thought it would be. I was expecting them to need me to help them with a heist, but I was getting the feeling it might be more than that. Jimin sighed.

“I can’t get into specifics right now, but you need to get the fuck out of California.”

Going up the stairs of my complex, I paused. 

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not safe here anymore.”

Growing angry, I shouted. “Enough with the cryptic messages, Park!”

Continuing to go up, I kept looking around every corner I went to. This was the worst fucking timing I could have had. Things were finally going well for me, I had friends and a job that I actually liked, and I had to give it all up again. Tears filling my eyes, I shoved open my door and slammed it behind me.

“I told you I can’t get into specifics, but there’s a reason I’m with Kai right now. You and Jungkook need to get out of that apartment as soon as possible. I don’t care where you go but you need to leave.”

Jungkook sprung up when I kicked the edge of my bed. Pointing to my phone, I mouth ‘Jimin.’ Getting on my knees, I pulled out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and threw it at the other man. He looked at me when he stood up. I noticed the way he winced and held up the bag in my hand.

“Copy,” Was all I replied.

“Get to Boston. Don’t take the truck.”

“Give me something to work with,” I demanded, taking the Advil out of the bag and tossing it to Jungkook. “I can’t be blind.”

“Cмерть не за горами.”

My entire world stopped spinning. I could hear my heart beating, feel my lungs pushing the air out of my body, while my eyes were frozen. Every single inch of my skin shivered, goosebumps springing up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. This was no heist. 

Hanging up on Jimin, I went to the window above my bed and opened it. Throwing the phone as far as I could, I turned to find Jungkook waiting for instructions. Staring at him, I decided to take a leap of faith.

“Ты один из нас?” I asked.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”

Gritting my teeth, I snatched the duffle from him. Jungkook continued waiting for me to tell him what to do. I pointed to my bathroom.

“Take everything from the mirror cabinet and put it in the bag. After that, grab what you can from the wardrobe and stuff it. Only take one pair of shoes and a pair of heels. That’s all I’ll need.”

He got to work quickly. Going back to the bed, I took out my gun and the spare ammo I kept locked up at the very back corner. Placing the ammo in the duffle, I took my first aid kit from the kitchen floor and tossed it in as well. 

“Do you have a gun?” I asked Jungkook.

“Yeah,” He replied. “It’s in the jacket downstairs. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t armed.”

Packing my small makeup collection, I felt myself shutting down. Bad girls don’t have feelings, and I was fucking heartless. Yes, I told myself, heartless. It was harder to pretend now than it had been, I was rusty and in desperate need of a distraction. The thought of finding my old family in the shadows was always frightening, but the thought of them looking for me was far more unsettling.

“Done,” Jungkook announced.

Realizing I had zoned out, I quickly put my makeup in the duffle bag and closed it. I had no time to dwell or be afraid. Heartless, Mouse, Heartless. I hated that name. Shaking my head, I pulled myself together enough to sling the duffle over my shoulder. Jungkook went to take it but I held my hand up.

“You’re not carrying this with your injuries. Just take that bag and this-” I handed him my gun. “I don’t know how quick you are but it’s probably better than me. I’m rusty.”

He nodded and we made our way down the stairs. Thinking, I began to categorize the cars that were in the parking lot and on the street. My truck was near the front but the streets were shrouded in light at this time. Jungkook’s bike was also out front. The back had security cameras but was pitch black at this time. I decided the front was the risk I was more willing to take and went through the hallway door on the first floor. Passing the doors, I paid no mind to Jungkook. He was capable and stayed in step with me effortlessly. 

We would drive for a few hours, probably stopping at a diner so I could get another car, and keep going until we hit Arizona or New Mexico. I had not decided yet. Going out the front doors, I waved Jungkook away while I walked down the street. He went to get his jacket but left the bike behind. He was back beside me in a few seconds. 

Crossing the street, I had my eyes on a Honda Accord parked on the curb. It was definitely a ‘97 model. I could start her up in a heartbeat. Unzipping one of the side pockets of my bag, I pulled out a switchblade and zipped it back up. Going to the driver’s side, Jungkook stayed at my back while I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened. Stepping to the side, I gently tapped Jungkook’s back. Turning, he quickly shoved the gun into the backseat as I opened the door. After seeing that the coast was clear, I motioned for him to go around the car while I popped the truck. He said it was fine.

Nodding at him, I got into the car. Kicking the steering wheel, I heard the column lock break before swapping the ECUs. Taking my knife, I ripped off the lower center cover. Getting back out of the car, I opened the backseat and threw my duffle inside. Putting my knife back in its pocket, I opened the long side pocket along the front and pulled out my old screwdriver. This was far from the first jacking I had done.

Getting back into the car, I began to pry the steel cover away. Asking Jungkook for a light, I waited while he pulled out his phone from the pocket of the red jacket. He was lucky no one had taken it. With the flashlight on, I turned the switch from off, past run, to start. The car came to life instantaneously. Waving the light away, I threw the screwdriver into the center console and placed the car in drive. Finally closing the driver’s side door, I peeled off into the night.

The radio came to life and Amy Winehouse sang loudly as I got onto the I-5.

“Til’ the chips were down

Know you were a gambling man.

Love is a losing hand.”

Jungkook was very quiet. I had just followed exit sounds and continued to drive toward Arizona. It was the least exciting state, and the people who lived there were far too judgemental outside of Phoenix, but it was the best way to get to the airport. That airport was far too big and strangely laid out that I knew we would be difficult to pick out in a crowd. Glazing over at Jungkook, he was holding the pack of cigarettes I had bought earlier.

“They’re for Jimin,” I suddenly said, switching lanes. “They were his favorite last time I saw him.”

“I think he’s smoking Camels now,” Jungkook replied.

“Can’t win them all.”

Sighing, I relaxed a bit more in my seat. So far, we have not been followed. Then again, I could be missing something. Tracking was not a strong suit of mine, and in my experience, the Russians were very, very evasive when they wanted to be. Still, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. 

“How do you know the boys in Brighton?” Jungkook asked, voice quiet and soft.

I thought about it for a moment. It was a rather long story, but knowing that we were familiar with the same people made it feel easier. Deciding to probe him for information first, I formed a plan in my head on how to go about this conversation.

“Have you ever heard of the person called Pыбка?” I asked, my American accent showing through. It had been a very, very long time since I had spoken Russian, and even then it had always been a second language that I learned from my time with the Shulaya.

“Ivan’s girl, right? The one who was murdered a few years back? What about her?”

Sparing him a quick glance, I spoke.

“Do I look dead to you?”

Jimin and I had known one another longer than anyone else in The Saints. He had been the last person to join the crew, and was deep within the Shulaya before he went to Jersey to join Hoseok’s team. I would never forget the look on his face the first time he saw me, or the fact that it took him all of ten minutes to get fully committed to keeping me safe. Everyone called me Mouse. Jin had come up with it after joking about me being able to live in someone’s attic and they would never know. It caught on and it was the only name anyone on the streets knew about. The ‘Little Fish’ of Shulaya long forgotten after the first two years of hiding. However, it seemed like my face had been seen by somebody and Ivan was not happy about my disappearing act. 

“Holy shit,” Jungkook said in awe. “We’re so fucked.”

I laughed, “Have some faith. Ivan is scary, but he’s also impulsive. I know him better than most and trust me- he doesn’t know how to keep his cool. Between Boston and NYC, I doubt he’ll get very far into their territory without raising hell.”

Jungkook made a strange noise.

“I’d be far more afraid of Yoongi than any of those Wiseguys.”

Scoffing, I saw the exit I needed to take in order to pull up at the last Holiday Inn before the long stretch of nothing at all. Jungkook seemed to see where my mind was going and began to look out of the window. After briefly going over what food options we had, we landed on Taco Bell. 

Ordering our food was simple enough. Jungkook was a huge tomato hater and was very upset to find that his Crunch Wrap had been ‘ruined.’ The motel seemed to have a few quests and I hoped we could get a room. Jungkook offered to pay. The frontdesk lady was kind and found us a room within 5 minutes. 

Using the elevator, I asked Jungkook if he still had the ‘thing’ with him. He nodded but said no more. It was probably better that way. Throwing my duffle bag onto my bed, I realized that Jungkook was still wearing a dress with the pants he had come inside in. 

Digging through my bag, I found a pair of sweatpants that would fit him well enough as well as an oversized nightshirt I rarely ever wore. I usually slept naked. Tonight, I will try to make my partner feel comfortable.

Throwing the clothes on his bed, Jungkook perked up a bit and seemed to be fine with their sizes. I wondered if he had been wearing more uncomfortable clothes at one time and shook my head. He had walked into this motel wearing that. Yes, Y/N, he has definitely been far more uncomfortable than tightly sweats. 

“You can take the bathroom first,” I pointed to the door. “You need it more than I do.”

Jungkook nodded, “Would you mind helping me get out of this thing? It still hurts to move my arms around too much.

Looking at him, I pinned him with an unimpressed look. We were not having one of those moments. Still looking at Jungkook, I unzipped the pouching with my switchblade in it and pulled the knife out. Walking to Jungkook, I quickly worked on the right side of the fabric. The left side was even quicker. Gently lifting his arm just enough to see his armpit, I cut the short sleeve from the bottom, following up with the top, and up the high neckline. Repeating it on the other side, the blood-soaked garment pooling to the floor. 

Jungkook seemed frozen. Looking at his face, his eyes were wide and staring at the blade in my hand. Thinking he might be uncomfortable with me standing so close to him with a weapon, I walked back to my bed.

“If you need help getting the shirt on, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook replied.

Picking up the spare clothes, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The water was on a few seconds later. Fully alone in the room, I looked around and decided to throw out the dress. With the torn up dress safely put away in my duffle, I tried to figure out what to do while I waited. 

Taking Jungkook’s phone off of his bed (he used a flip phone just like Yoongi did on the job), I quickly found my way to the contacts. Hovering over Jimin’s number, I paused. Not thinking about it for too long, I pressed it and placed my phone to my ear. He answered quickly.

“Where are you?” Jimin asked, voice very low.

“Are you safe to talk?” I replied, voice just as low.

I could hear the way Jimin rolled his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips.

“I’m fine,” His voice was still soft. “I’m at a casino right now. Did you steal his phone?”

My blood ran cold. Most of our guys loved gambling, but Jimin had always thought it was a dumb pastime. I knew Ivan had been trying to expand the Russian influence in Los Angeles, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing. Jimin tended to run into situations without contemplating everything. Instead of grilling him, I decided to ease his worries.

“We’re safe. Heading east.” I looked around the room distractedly. “And no. I’m using it while he’s taking a shower.”

Jimin sighed in relief, “Kook is a good guy. He’ll keep you safe long enough to make it back to Boston. I’ll be on my way back in a few hours.”

It was better to keep things vague. Just like I had not said where we were headed, Jimin’s answer could mean anything. I heard Jungkook cry out but he was quiet soon after. I hoped the work I had done was keeping. I had told him to keep the stitches covered.

“See you soon,” I forced a smile on my face. “I got you a pack of cigarettes.”

Jimin laughed, though it sounded more forced than normal.

“Stay safe. I have to go.”

I hung up without another word. If he had to go then he had to go. The shower was still running and I was bored again. Looking at the door, I was tempted to walk around for a while. I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble if I did, but I was curious to see if I could get some extra clothes for Jungkook. Possibly a set of car keys, too. Looking at the bathroom door, I figured he was going to be there for a while.

“Fuck it,” I said under my breath.

Getting my room key, I slipped out of the room quietly. 

The hallway was deserted, not a body in sight, but I had a feeling I could get something if I looked hard enough. Going to the elevator, I spotted a young couple laughing. Slowing my walk, I was happy to see that they were getting on the elevator.

Angling my body, I was practically jumping up and down when my eye caught on their room key. This would be too easy. The elevator chimed signaling someone was getting off. Quickly moving my body, I relied on their clinginess to sneak into the corridor without a problem. A group of people pooled out of the elevator and I drifted into their numbers.

The couple stood to the side and waited for us to pass. Using my foot, I tripped a young woman in front of me. She stumbled while I placed myself in a position to trip over her. The both of us dropped. The woman fell into the man. Falling, I shuffled closer to the man’s hand while the woman began apologizing profusely.

Quickly snatching the card from him, I slipped it into my pocket while I stood up. Adjusting my clothes, I quickly apologized as well. The couple waved the both of us off, seemingly unbothered, before getting on the elevator. Nodding to the woman, I turned toward the way the couple had come from. Looking at the keycard, I made my way toward the door with the number on it. I was lucky the woman and I had similar hair styles, but I was aware of Holiday Inn well enough to say that most of their cameras did not work.

Glancing up at the camera in the middle of the hallway, I was positive it was not working. Typically there would be a small, red dot that showed it was recording. Today, it was off. Letting myself in, I knew I had to be quick and clean.

Tonight I would only get clothes. Car keys were something I would have to snatch in the morning over breakfast. Someone would notice their keys missing in the middle of the night. Locating a large, black suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed, I pulled it up onto the bed and unzipped it.

Carefully sifting through the clothes, I only pulled out enough for two outfits before gently placing everything back smoothly. They would probably be a bit big on Jungkook, but I doubted he would mind very much. I swore he was wearing a belt, but I had not been paying enough attention to know for sure. 

Going to the pockets of the bag, I was happy to find a container of hair pomade and hoped it might make Jungkook happy. He would be able to do his hair if he wanted. Grabbing a pack of hair bands and a pair of boxers, I was ready to leave. Going into the dresser, I pulled out the complimentary bag they gave every guest, I shoved the clothes in it before leaving the room. With the keycard in my hand, I dropped it in the spot the couple had been before making my way back to my own room.

Jungkook was sitting on his bed drying his hair when I came in. He was wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt I had given him. I was glad he was able to get it on alone, but I felt bad I had not been here to help him. Holding up the bag, I tossed it his way.

“The first robbery I’ve done in four years,” I shook my head. “You should feel special.”

Jungkook opened the bag and grinned at me. His hair went just past his shoulders when it was wet, his fluffy curls weighed down by the water. Sifting through the bag, he seemed the happiest about the hair ties. 

Getting my own clothes, I let him know I was going to take a shower. Getting under the hot water was a healing experience, and for the first time today I let a few tears slip out.

I was terrified, frustrated, but mostly- pissed.

Twelve years ago

Hands bound, I let my body relax. Ivan’s eyes were blazing, his anger palpable, but I refused to look away. He would never think I was weak again. Walking closer, the Russian yanked me up roughly, one of the straps of my sundress breaking.

“What the fuck did you do?” He seethed, his accent thick and almost incoherent through gritted teeth. “You always ruin everything you touch.”

Slowly, and with great care, I pooled spit into my mouth. With a quick gurgle, I spit in Ivan’s eye. My rebellion had angered just as much as it had excited Ivan. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, his hands burning my skin. Slamming me down, Ivan roared in anger before delivering a swift kick to my stomach.

Gasping, I tried my hardest to keep the vomit down. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wished I was with Alexei. He would never have treated me like this. As if the thought had transferred over to the man beside me, he kicked me again.

“Alexei is dead, Лох,” He shouted. “You’re mine now.”

With another swift kick, I cried out. Then, without warning my stomach twisted. Another kick. Finally, I threw up all over the concrete floor beneath me. 

For now. I was yours for now.

Present

With a new set of car keys in my hand, I walked into the parking lot. Jungkook was on the phone, but quickly hung up when he saw me approaching. Raising an eyebrow at him, I waved him over and we began walking together. Clicking the unlock button, I smiled when I saw the yellow Porsche. The two of us placed our things inside without a care in the world and drove off quickly after. 

I had found the targets for today the night before while walking around the hotel late last night. It was a young woman and her mother. The two of them had been a whirlwind and gave the staff hell. Unable to sleep, my head headaches from exhaustion, and their bickering only pissed me off more. Unfortunately for them, they had made a big show of their money and decided to brag about their car.

It took a few minutes to switch out license plates and even less time to steal her car keys this morning during breakfast. They were staying for another day and had not planned on leaving the hotel at all. Jungkook laughed once we were a safe distance away.

“I’m still in shock at that woman’s entitlement,” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she flipped out when they ran out of bacon before her ‘precious angel’ could get any?”

Chuckling, I kept my attention on the road.

“Her attitude was the only reason I swiped this thing. I would never get into something so obvious.”

“It was as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”

Feeling confident from the jacking, I decided to play along.

“Do you steal from babies often?”

Jungkook giggled cutely, “I’ve cut down to twice a year.”

“Oh?”

“Halloween-” He counted with one finger, and lifted another, “-and Easter.”

“Easter?” My eyebrows pulled in as I laughed incredulously.

Jungkook grinned lazily. 

“Stockings are so last year.”

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to think of him as a member of the mafia. While my age had made others test my abilities far more often than the others I never believed anyone doubted who I was. There was a look in your eye, this coldness, that separated you from the rest. I could pick out a killer in a line up- we were one in the same. However, Jungkook was impossible to get a read on. His boyish charms and good looks were not uncommon, but the innocence in his smile and the brightness that remained in his eyes were unsettling. Everything about him was unnerving. He was disarming and that alone was frightening.

Realizing the car had become quiet, I turned the radio on. It was a habit of mine. I did not like the silence. I hated it. Some trashy pop song blasted but I did not care. Jungkook did and began to look for something he liked more.

“What do you like?” He asked, pressing the screen to change the stations.

“Pick whatever,” I replied, flipping off the guy who cut me off.

Arizona was the worst state I had ever been to. The drive was not as awful as Texas, nothing will ever beat the twelve hours of hell to still be in that damned state, but it was not much better. Outside of Phoenix the towns were not as grand. Tucson gave her a run for her money, but never came close to the busy city. Driving through the desert, I asked Jungkook to pull up the directions to the airport. I no longer knew my way.

“How did you meet the guys?” I asked, eyes on the road.

Jungkook picked a pop station and leaned back in his seat.

“Through Jimin,” He replied. “They needed help dealing with someone. I had just left New York and we ran into each other in Vegas. I liked everyone so I decided to join.”

Raising an eyebrow, I quickly turned my head so he could see my expression.

“Ivan let you leave?”

“I wasn’t a member,” Jungkook mumbled. “Just an acquaintance. I was for hire.”

That was not what I had expected. Jungkook did not seem like a killer, but I had been proven wrong many times. When I lived with my parents I had met many assassins I would have never guessed who they were just looking at them. Even talking with them it was impossible to detect. Looking at the man, I found it hard to believe that we were from the same background. While I had ran from that life, Jungkook ran toward it with open arms. In fact, he seemed to pay it little mind.

“What family are you from?” I asked. “My family was under The Table.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re from the Underground?”

I nodded, “I never really wanted that life. I’m a much better thief anyway.”

Jungkook rubbed his bottom lip. I forced myself to focus on the road. Even if we were the only people out here, I did not want to risk anything. I had stolen the car and the plate and getting stuck out here would be hell.

“I’m with Sacarii.”

The Sacarii was the sister organization to The Table. While my family had mostly dealt with members of gangs and high profile families, members of the Sacarii were the people who went after other assassins. Stealing another look at Jungkook, I looked at the tattoos on his arm and tried to find his symbol. All of us got one, mine was a tiger on my right side, but the ink was too difficult to look at while driving.

“I have a tiger lily,” Jungkook said, noticing my assessment. “I have a few of them, actually.”

Lilies are from Japan, but I knew Jungkook was Korean. His name alone gave him away. Waving my hand, I asked him to explain when he got it.

“My family moved to Japan when I was fifteen. I had my first kill there so we decided that I would get something to represent that. The prayer hands on my back were done by the organization after the ordainment.”

Ordainments were very common. It was the process an assassin went through to become an official member of their organization. Their families were no longer defined by blood but the common experiences each one shared. The Table and the Sacarii were one big family, but oftentimes we did not get along with one another. Civil at best and competition at worst. Prayer hands with a rosary were the tattoos everyone got. It was large, covering the entire center of the back, with the family oath written above and below it. 

“I never got mine,” I admitted. “I ran off before my ceremony. That’s when I met Alexei.”

“How old were you?”

Smiling sadly, I replied. “Thirteen.”

“Oh,” He said. “I didn’t know they got people that young.”

“Well, he saw me kill someone and wanted to keep me. I doubt you knew him- he died a few years ago.”

Jungkook nodded, “Yeah. What was he like?”

Laughing, I spotted a gas station and decided to stop. We were at half a tank, but I wanted to be safe. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed me a twenty. 

“He was a better man than his brother,” I answered, taking the money. “He knew how to stay calm and respect other people. Alexei always kept good relationships with the other families. Ivan is an idiot who can’t handle criticisms of any kind.”

“He’s that awful? I mean, I only know him through brief meetings.”

“I’d rather be dead than serve him again,” I opened my door. “But you already know that.”

Settling in my seat, I glanced over at Jungkook. He looked tired and I let him know it was fine to sleep. He nodded and slipped his eyes closed shortly after. Taking my new phone out of my pocket, I decided to make a quick phone call before we took off. Jungkook and I had picked up a flip phone from Walmart on our way to the airport. It was more secure than any smartphone. Dialing the number, I waited.

“Hello?” Hoseok picked up.

“I’m landing in Massachusetts,” I replied, knowing he was aware of the situation by now. It had been a day and a half. “Pick me up at our spot.”

“Jin will be there.”

“Copy.”

Hoseok sighed heavily, “Is the kid okay? Heard you shook him up.”

Glancing at Jungkook, I was shocked he was snoring. 

“He’s fine,” I replied. “He’s definitely in pain, and tries to keep his movement to a minimum, but hides it from me. Attempts to, I should say.  I took care of him as best I could but Agust should get his hands on his ASAP.”

Hoseok hummed and I knew he was nodding. He was a very animated, lively person and could not sit still for long. He got into a fist fight with a Russian who took offense to his hand movements. 

“See you when I see you.”

“Three o’clock,” I said before hanging up.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I finally buckled my seat. Shaking Jungkook awake, I told him to put his belt on. He grinned at me lazily before doing it. He fell asleep again quickly. 

Happy to have a window seat, I watched as we began to take off. It had been a while since I was on a plane. The last time was when I was running to California as quickly as I could. Kansas had been nice when I had first left The Saints, but it quickly became suffocating. The silence and mundane town life made my skin crawl. California had seemed like it would be better, more fun, but it had become just as mundane after a while. 

I had always gotten bored easily. It was why I enjoyed pickpocketing. As a kid, my little hands and unassuming looks had made it easy. I never planned on getting good at it. At the time it felt less damning in comparison to what the people in my life wanted me to do. 

There was a time when I was happy killing, pleasing my family had always felt good, but that faded when my teenage years approached. Running away to New York was a quick, impulsive decision I had made when I was afraid of my future. Staring at the clear, blue sky, I scoffed. 

I had run away from one hell into another. I went from that one into another. The Saints were my family, but I would be lying if I said I felt they were any different from what I had always done. Kansas had been my first attempt at normalcy, and San Diego had been me living in that world.

And I loved it, in my own way. It was nice to have a routine. It felt good to have friends, even if they were the most surface level friendships I could allow myself to have, and I owned my own things. I had earned what I had. 

Now I was flying back to a place I was not sure I belonged anymore. I felt two halves of myself fighting one another. One half wanted to run again, to disappear, and get as far away from this place as possible. Then there was the other side of me, the twisted, dark, nasty side of myself that was reveling in all of this. My excitement was hard for me to figure out, and I began to doubt myself.

Had I ever really wanted this life? Has it all been a dream? A fantasy of a perfectly serene, normal, and legal lifestyle I had never known? Finding a cloud, I rubbed my temples and sighed. 

I doubted I would ever have an answer to that question.

Five years ago

Standing around the table, all of us went over the plan again. They were doing construction on the roof, so that would be the quickest, and easiest, point of entrance. I would go first while Hoseok and Jin dressed as police officers to take out the security guards in the back. Taehyung would take care of the cameras before this. Yoongi would follow behind me along with Jimin. I would lead the team after we had taken over the museum.

Looking over at Jimin, he was already looking at me. Everyone knew that this would be my last mission, and he had taken it the worst. We hardly spoke and he actively ignored me. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all. Breaking eye contact, I went back to explaining the pieces we would be taking.

“Don was very specific about these three pieces,” I said, pointing to the Rembrandt and two pieces of jewelry. “These are our high payouts. Get these first. After that we can make quick work of the rest.”

“Who did you say the others were going to?” Yoongi asked.

“The rest are split up between some vendors I know,” I replied. “Freddie Newman, Diane Pollack, and Dwayne Smith. The jewels are for Georgie Boy, Archie, and two others. Park’s handling that.”

“This is a big job,” Hoseok mumbled. “Will the six of us be able to get it done?”

I nodded easily. 

“Yes, we’ll have all the time in the world once those guards are taken care of. I’m planning on this being an hour- two at most.”

Looking back at Jimin, I was happy to see he was grinning at me. We would be fine. Deciding we had gone over everything, I walked away from the table. 

“We’ll leave at midnight.”

“Copy,” Jimin replied.

Smiling to myself, I left the room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Getting off the plane, I kept Jungkook close as we made our way to baggage claim. Being on the East Coast again was uncomfortable. I knew this airport like the back of my hand, knew every nook and cranny of these streets, but I still felt out of place. I was even more unsettled knowing there were people looking for me. 

Standing by the conveyor belt, we waited for my duffle bag to come out. Jungkook looked around, his scouting looking natural, and I kept my eyes on the bags. It came out a few minutes later, and I slung it over my shoulder. Jungkook wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

“They’re here,” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. Lips brushing the top of my head, he started walking and kept me close. “They don’t know me, so we’ll be fine.”

Forcing a smile on my face, I wrapped my arm around his waist. My heartbeat quickened, and I found myself enjoying the way his body pressed into mine. Allowing myself a small glance around us, I saw two familiar faces near the escalators. Dimitri and Anton. As we neared the escalators, I knew they would notice me unless I acted very differently than what they remembered. 

Deciding to commit to our charade, I lifted my head up towards Jungkook. Kissing his cheek, I was able to hide my face from the two men. Jungkook stepped onto the elevator first. Turning him to face me, I grabbed his face and pressed our lips together. He was soft, gentle, and tasted like the licorice he’d gotten on the plane. He wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into the kiss. Pulling away, head pressed against his, I looked at the steps. 

“We’re almost at the top,” I mumbled.

Jungkook nodded and slowly moved away from me. Angling his body towards the front, he kept an arm firmly around my waist as we got to the top. Sparing a single glance behind me, the two men were none the wiser. Smirking, I ran my hand up and down Jungkook’s back in silent praise. 

Walking further and further away from the others, Jungkook’s arm did not move. I stayed close to his side, happy to have someone to lean on. It made sense now. Jimin sent him because he was less known to the others. Ivan would know him, and the people closest to him, but someone like Anton would be blindsided by his presence. They were expecting one of my boys. Stepping into the sun, the two of us were quick to hail down a taxi and slip inside. 

“We’re running a bit late,” I announced, buckling in. “Can you take us to the Hood Milk Bottle?”

“No problem,” The cab driver replied.

It was barely a 10 minute drive, but airport traffic made it feel like forever. Jungkook and I did not talk. Our closeness from earlier was officially stopped, and I felt silly for missing his warmth. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I grew shy. Just moments ago, his arms were wrapped around me. Catching sight of the tiger lily on his elbow, I had to quickly look back out of the window.

God, he was fucking hot.

Pulling out my phone, I found a new message on it. 

Unknown: Eating a lobster roll outside

Rolling my eyes, I replied.

Y/N: Of course you are. Two minutes.

Unknown: Lunch on me

Flipping the phone closed, I shoved it back in my back pocket. Looking out of the window, I did feel nostalgic. It had been such a long time and yet things stayed the same. There were a few new shops where old ones used to be, but the places I remembered the most fondly were still around. The mixed feelings I had were beginning to weigh down on me. 

Pulling up, I smiled. Hood was such an iconic, fun place. Looking back at Jungkook, I was touched to see him paying the cabby. Saying goodbye, the two of us got out of the car. The duffle had been in my lap. Jungkook stared up at the giant milk bottle in awe.

“Jin said he'll buy us lunch.”

Jungkook smirked, “What do you recommend?”

Walking toward the snack stand, I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m getting a lobster roll, but if you’re not into that, the soft serve is great.”

Walking around the side, I saw Jin sitting on one of the picnic benches eating. I was more surprised to see he was still enjoying his food than the purple hair. Jimin must have convinced him to do that. Whistling, I smirked at Jin and waved.

Jin was the oldest out of all of us, and spoke the least amount of English, but we were close. Standing, he offered me a hug which I happily accepted. Clearing my throat, I began speaking in Korean.

“You look nice,” I ruffled his hair. “This color looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” He shoved my hand away. “Lobster roll? Thought you might have missed the New England taste.”

Nodded, I turned to Jungkook.

“What do you want?” I asked in English.

He shook his head at me, “Chocolate ice cream.”

When he spoke Korean, his voice was much deeper. Grinning at him, I looked back at Jin.

“One lobster roll and one chocolate soft serve.”

Going to order our food, Jin told us to sit and wait. Jungkook sat down next to me, his elbow on the table with his head resting on his fist. I was unsure of what to make of the look on his face. He seemed so… fond of me. No one had ever really looked at me like that before. I was used to anger, annoyance, or fear, but fondness was uncharted territory. The closest person I could think of had been Alexi, but even then he had always looked at me as a child. Jungkook did not.

“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” He said, speaking the language.

“I know a lot of languages,” I replied. “I’m mostly fluent in English and Russian. My Korean is good, but I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination. I speak a decent amount of Spanish as well.”

“That’s so cool. Mine are Korean, Japanese, and English.”

Jin was back with our food. 

“Eat it in the car,” He said, “Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Is Park back in town?” Jungkook asked.

Jin shook his head, “Not yet. We haven’t heard from since yesterday.”

I knew we would talk more once we were out of the public eye. There was only so much we could say out here. Taking my roll, I followed Jin. Jungkook ate his ice cream happily, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was my turn to smile fondly. 

Pulling into a small driveway, I was confused. I did not recognize the house. Painted a calming sky blue with black shutters, a well-groomed lawn, and a small flower garden, it was unassuming and plain. Looking over at Jungkook, he seemed happy to be here. 

“Where are we?” I asked.

Jungkook smiled at me, “Yoongi’s.”

Taken aback, I froze. That had been the last person I had thought of. The last time I had seen everyone, Yoongi and Hoseok were living in a shitty condo in South End. While I was confused, and even unsettled, by the changes I was also pleased. It felt good to see Yoongi living more civilly. I wondered what had changed.

Hopping out of the Jeep, I met up with Jin and Jungkook at the hood before following behind them. The house was pristine and the small cul de sac was quiet. Eyes bulging out of my head, I fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of a bird feeder on the edge of the lawn. 

Standing on the small porch, the three of us huddled close together. Jungkook gently moved my body in front of his, successfully shielding my body from the street. Leaning back slightly, I brushed my back against his chest quickly before straightening my back. I was beginning to lean into my growing attraction, but knew better than to take it any further than small touches. The airport had been for survival- nothing more. 

Jin knocked, the rhythm the only familiar thing about this place, before the door swung open. On the other side, a woman peered out at us. Her hair was short, wildly frizzy with unkempt curls, and bright red. Her eyes were brown and skin alabaster. The green dress she wore looked nice on her full figure. She smiled brightly at Jin, saying hello with joy. Her voice had hints of an accent but it was too faint for me to pick up.

“It’s nice to see you Johanna,” Jin greeted, kissing the woman’s cheek before gesturing towards me. “Johanna, Mouse. Mouse, Johanna.”

The red head gave me a polite smile before offering her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mouse.”

“Y/N,” I corrected, glaring at Jin. “Y/N is fine outside of business.”

“This is business though, isn’t it?” Johanna tilted her head at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. I decided right away that I liked her. “Come in. Hello Kookie.”

“Hey Jo,” The man replied.

Stepping inside, I looked around. The inside was just as perfect as the outside. Brightly colored walls with pops of color scattered around, mostly in the art hanging on the walls, with plants everywhere. It smelled like apple cinnamon and Pinesol. The hardwood floors were loud as we walked along them. The size of the living room was bigger than my entire apartment. Catching sight of a collage of photos, I looked over them the best I could as I walked.

All of them were nice photos, family photos, but one caught my eye. Yoongi was smiling, a rare sight, and his eyes were shining brightly. He was on the beach, arms wrapped around Johanna tenderly, while she had a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She wore a white dress that hit her just at the ankle, a long, thin veil clipped onto the back of her head. The Saints were there along with a few people I did not recognize. Belatedly, I realized that I was looking at a wedding picture. A wedding I had missed. A wedding I had never been invited to. A wedding I had never even knew. Eyes glued to the photo, I cause a glimpse of Jungkook in a far-off corner, almost completely cut out, but he had been there. 

I knew my hurt feelings were unjustified. I had been the one who told them to leave me out of their affairs. I had said emergencies only. Still, I found myself growing increasingly alienated. I truly had no place here anymore. The only purpose I had ever served was monetary gain. The friendships I had built along the way were as fickle as the ones I had in New York. 

Arguing with myself, I struggled to stay present. As we walked deeper into the house, the need to run presented itself all over again. Everything I had known was gone. Everyone was different. Everything was different. Sparing a glance over at Jungkook, a seed of resentment began to grow in my chest. 

No one had ever referred to me as affectionately as they had Jungkook. No one had ever seemed endeared by my failures. Hell, none of these guys even acknowledged my feelings half the time. Staring at the back of Johanna’s head, I found that I didn't really like her that much anymore. She was loved. I was tolerated.

Still, I told myself that they had come for me. They had wanted to keep me safe. And yet, the insecurities that had always lived in my head reared their ugly head and reminded me that it was for their own good. I was useful. As long as I would be of use to them, then I would be protected. It would never be the same reasons they would fight for Johanna. They would fight for her because they wanted to keep her safe.

I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them. I did not want comfort from Jungkook. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back to San Diego. Even if they were surface level, those friendships were still more loving than whatever the fuck I had here. I hated Boston. I hated New York. I hated the entire East Coast. 

“Y/N?” Johanna called out, looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, I replied. 

“I’m fine. Just lost in my head.”

I hated the edge my voice had taken on. I hated just how much I had to control myself around these people. I wanted to scream, shout, cry; whatever. I just wanted to feel myself lose control for a little while. The woman did not believe me but offered me a smile regardless. 

“I asked if you would like a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” I replied.

Jin seemed suspicious of me but said nothing at all. He had always known I liked my space. Still, I could tell he was worried. I knew my thoughts were out of line, I knew that I was over thinking and attempting to overcompensate, but it was impossible to stop it from happening. The downward spiral was difficult to manage. 

Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Jumping, I whipped my head around to see Jungkook smiling at me. It was a goofy smile, one that he pulled when he was feeling playful, before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What happens when you get water on a table?” He asked.

Taken aback, I opened and closed my mouth several times.

“What?”

“It becomes a pool table.”

Mouth agape, I blinked in disbelief before shoving him away. I let out a small laugh and shook my head at him. Where in the world had that come from?

Seokjin was laughing, hands clapping, and praising the younger man for the joke. Jin was a big fan of dad jokes and enjoyed making them up whenever he could. Typically, you would have to know enough Korean for them to make sense, but they never failed to get a few chuckles out of me. The ridiculousness of the jokes coupled with the corny delivery was always funny. Johanna placed a glass in front of me smiling fondly at Jungkook.

“He’s a mess,” She said, looking at me in faux exasperation. “I don’t know how you survived the trip here. He talks too much.”

Shaking my head, I took a large sip of the water.

“It’s better than the awkward silence Yoongi brings along.”

She laughed, knocking her head back.

“Touche,” She giggled. “He is a bit intense sometimes.”

“You’ve been in Boston for an hour and you’re already turning my wife against me.”

The voice had come from behind me. Spinning around dumbly, I was face-to-face with Yoongi. The scar on his face was just as prominent as it had always been, taking up his entire left cheek into forehead, but his eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. He was skinnier than the last time I saw him, too. He was wearing a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans. He seemed completely at ease. 

“Hey kid,” He greeted Jungkook with a grin. “Heard Mouse got you good.”

Jungkook flushed, ducking his head while rubbing his neck.

“Oh?” Jin chimed, his voice mocking. “The great Sacarii taken down by a little mouse?”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily.

“He didn’t even try anything,” I admitted. “I was the aggressive one.”

“He was just an idiot,” Jin teased.

Yoongi tsked, “Park was the bigger idiot of the two. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”

“You’re too hard on him,” Johanna gently scolded. “You know Jimin has a roundabout way of being right.”

 Jungkook laughed, “A broken clock’s right twice a day.”

A silence fell over our group. It felt unnatural to be standing in a nice kitchen talking over mundane topics with everyone. It was a long ways away from the roach infested alleyways and closed off apartment complexes. I lived with Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung when I was in Boston. Our small one bedroom was always cluttered, overcrowded, and was the main spot for our meetups. The conference room had been stuffed between two twin-sized mattresses with a large, round table in the middle of it all. I slept on the pull-out sofa in the front. 

“I guess we should talk,” Yoongi said, looking me up and down. 

“I guess so,” I replied.

Walking over to him, I realized that no one else was following. Looking back at the other three, they simply looked back. Sighing, I let it go. Being alone with Yoongi was not an unwelcome thing, but it had always made me feel like I was in trouble. Laughing at myself, I followed the man out of the kitchen and into the dining room. This time I was the one who was in trouble. 

Walking out of the dining room, we were now in a small reading room with a staircase. A green, stand-up piano was tucked away between tall bookshelves and more plants. Following Yoongi upstairs, I refrained from looking too closely at things. The house was much bigger than it looked. Walking past a few doors, we stopped before Yoongi opened one. 

Gesturing me to follow, I smiled at the sight of the old table. It was far too large, held six chairs, and was cheaply made. Someone had refurbished it and I wondered if it had been Johanna. She seemed to like everything to be nice and neat. It was an aesthetically pleasing layout, but this room was all Yoongi. The dark colored walls and furniture were in stark contrast to the otherwise white house. Taking a seat at the table, I pulled out the chair directly across from him.

There was a line up of photos scattered on the desk along with a few letters. I recognized two of the women but the others were unfamiliar to me. Looking around, I scowled when I saw a picture of Ivan. I would be lying if I said he was physically unattractive. Ivan had always had this air around him and coupled with his angular features and blue eyes it was no wonder why women chased him. I knew him, however, and the slope of his cheekbones and the perfectly groomed dirty-blonde hair did nothing but repulse me. He looked everything like his brother. He looked nothing like his brother.

Picking the photo up, I looked closely. It was candid. Someone had been hiding when they took it since the man seemed to be unaware of the camera. He was smoking a cigarette and behind him was a beach. Trying to figure out where he could be was hard, but it was nowhere near New York. It was too sunny, the waves too high, and I could see a surfer in the background. 

“Johanna took that,” Yoongi suddenly said. “We were in California. It’s where we got married.”

Mind racing, I kept looking at the picture. Ivan had been close to me. Very close, in fact. Trying to figure out how I could have been traced, I thought of Kimberly and winced. It would take no time at all to figure out if it really was me. He could just send some random into the salon after seeing a post. I looked different but I was still me. He could have scouted out the place for months without me being any wiser. Closing my eyes, I dropped the photo.

“He’s known where you are for a while,” He continued. “He had asked Jungkook to take care of you a few weeks ago, but the kid refused. He knew your face. Ivan’s been trying to figure out the best plan of getting to you without pissing us off.”

“So he thought forcing me back to New York was the best option?” I spat.

Yoongi nodded, “In his mind, you’d be under his claim again so we’d have no authority. Either he’s crazy or stupid.”

“Both,” I replied. “Always both.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Eyes searching the pictures for more signs, I grew angry. 

“Why are you only just now telling me?” I demanded, picking apart each detail of the photographs. “I should have known from the very beginning.”

“I thought so, too,” Yoongi defended. “It was Jimin telling us to cool it. He thought he could get it under control since he’s known Ivan for so long. It didn’t work out and Jimin was kicked out of the family.”

“What?” I shouted.

Ivan was losing his damn mind. Jimin was the closest thing to Alexi those boy had after Ivan took over. They loved him, I loved him, and to watch him get kicked out over me would have been a massive blow to Ivan’s credibility. Loyalty was gone from New York it seemed, and it would only be a matter of time before Ivan came to the same conclusion. They don’t make them like Jimin anymore. He was only trying to keep the peace. Thinking of my friend, I willed back my tears. He had wanted me to stay in California. He didn’t want me to come back.

“They’re not doing well,” Yoongi admitted. “Georgie Boy and I talked and he’s with us regardless. The Italians haven’t been appreciating Ivan’s ways either. Hoseok spoke with the Gambinos and they said they’ll light up the Russians if they get into their territory again.”

“Again?”

Yoongi smiled without humor.

“Ivan’s boys were selling in the Gambino’s turf. Didn’t end well for them. They aren’t going to tolerate that shit again, and the other families are on the lookout as well. Have to say, the boy has lost his fucking mind.”

Going over the information, I felt more confident than I had before. Ivan was hoping to get me back into his arms first. Then he’d kill me. Or keep me. It was impossible to know for sure. Either way, he had a rude awakening if he thought my boys were going to let it happen without consequences. Thinking back to my thoughts when I first came inside, I reminded myself that we were connected. I meant more to them than property. They weren’t Ivan. 

They weren’t Alexei either.

Shoving that thought down, I refocused on the photo of Ivan. He looked worse than I had last seen him. His age was beginning to show, and I sneered at the sight of the family tattoo. I had been claimed by many groups in my life. The tiger for my family, the slope-edged star on my collar bone for Alexei, the clerk on my ribs for my skill with a blade, and St. Anthony for The Saints. Ivan’s name had been cut into my skin by the man himself after I killed a rival without permission. The scars were faded now, but I never liked to show my stomach anymore. You could still see the carving and I would always know they were there. 

 Eyes zeroing in on Ivan’s calf, I saw red as I caught sight of the dagger entwined by a snake. It was in the same spot as mine. They all represented something. 

The star was commonplace for all Russians while my clerk was far more specialized. I got it after I helped Alexei take care of a snitch. I hated thinking about that night, but it earned me my stripes. I got my dagger a few months later. The dagger was rare, only given out to a leader of a “suit” of thieves. Alexi had promoted me, and I controlled my own section of New York alongside him. Ivan did not deserve that tattoo even if he was the boss.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi said.

I nodded.

“Why would he want you back so badly? He hates you.”

I smiled ruefully, looking up from the picture. 

“I’m Alexei’s girl and he finds great pleasure in keeping me around just to spite him. Even if he’s dead, it’ll never be enough. Breaking me down was always the goal.”

“Were you and Alexei…”

Yoongi did not need to finish the sentence. It was a fair question and one that everyone asked at some point. The Saints never liked picking into my past too much. They knew it had been rough, they knew what Ivan and I’s relationship was like, so they put it to rest. Yoongi had seen my stomach once, said he was going to kill him one day, and never brought it up again. Latching onto the memory, I further reinforced that they cared for me. This was not a dangerous place. These are my friends.

“No, Alexei would never. I was only 13 when we met. He was 19. We were like siblings more than anything. More than he and Ivan ever were.”

“Ivan was jealous?” I nodded. “Typical.”

“He’s the one who killed him, you know,” I leaned back in the chair. “I was there that night. That’s why Ivan hates me. I know too much.”

Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. It was a completely different world than he was used to. The Irish took care of their own. While it may have involved violence and punishments being handed out from time to time, there had always been unwavering loyalty to one another. For Hoseok it was the same. Snitches were snitches but you always had people you knew were on your corner. When Ivan saw an in he took it, even if it meant killing his older brother, and everyone suffered for it. I had not said anything out of the code of ethics we built, but that never stopped word from spreading. Everyone knew Ivan killed Alexei but no one could prove it.

Yoongi sucked his teeth, “They know you came home. Jimin let us know about that. He and Kai have been all over this shit.”

I hummed, “They had a couple guys at the airport. Jungkook and I got past them easily, though.”

Yoongi looked at me strangely now. It was in between concern and pride, but I figured it was the closest thing to friendly I would get from him. It was not his fault his face looked the way it did. Wanting to lighten the mood, I decided to ask him about his wife.

“So, who’s Johanna?”

Yoongi actually cracked a smile.

“She’s a nuclear engineer. Works at BU and moved to America seven years ago.”

“How’d that even happen?”

Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t even know. We met at a restaurant Georgie took me to. She was there with some friends. We bumped into one another and she gave me her number. I didn’t call but we ran into each other again at a bar. Stuck like glue ever since.”

Gently smiling I replied, “Sounds nice. I’m glad you found someone.”

Yoongi looked down bashfully. He was like an entirely new person now. Yoongi had never been one to show emotions outside of anger and annoyance. Even with us he had been a hardass. It was strange but nice at the same time. I liked it more than the robot I was used to.

“She’s a good person,” He whispered, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have left her alone. She deserves better than a life of crime and being entangled in my bullshit.”

I understood where he was coming from.

“You could always leave. Runaway to Iceland and never look back.”

Yoongi grinned, “I thought about it but I don’t have any skills outside of this. What would I do? Unlike you, some of us have never thought past our horizons. Besides, I have other people to think about.”

I also understood that as well. I had been afraid of change for a long time, and I had known I wanted it for a while. I was unsure how long they had known one another, or had been together, but Yoongi had always said he’d die in Boston. I doubted he thought that way now. 

“It’s okay to be selfish,” I mumbled. “Things haven’t been easy and there were times when I missed the craziness, but I can say it’s an experience everyone should have. I love both of my lives, but I’d be lying if I said I’d choose this over California.”

Yoongi nodded in thought. We would drop this conversation and likely never pick it back up again, so I knew I should say my peace now. Whatever he decided to do would ultimately be on his shoulders, but I thought it would be okay to push him to follow his heart’s desires. I was a dreamer and I hoped the others would find a dream to hold onto as well.

Walking downstairs, I was tired. The traveling had finally caught up to me and I wanted to get some rest while I could. Walking into the kitchen, the three of them were still talking. Johanna had started to cook something. It smelled nice but my stomach churned at the thought of food. Making my presence known, I yawned loudly and stretched my arms above my head.

“Sleepy?” Jungkook asked, completely at ease. 

He looked right at home here. Briefly I wondered if he stayed here often enough for that to be the case. Yoongi hated other people in his space, but he had changed since I last saw him. Jungkook, however, did not seem like someone who would like living with other people. He was mostly quiet, sweet, but standoffish at times. Jin grinned at me.

“Sorry to say I’m full,” The older man took a sip from a glass. I could not tell what it was and did not care to know. I rubbed my eyes dramatically and yawned again. “Jimin and I are rooming together. I doubt you want to take the sofa. Let’s just say I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.”

“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” I replied with another yawn. Shaking my head, I groaned. “God, I hate it when that happens.”

“Jungkook can keep you,” Johanna offered. “I’d let you stay here but my niece is spending the weekend. I don’t want to put her in a bad position.”

I knew what she meant. I would not want to put a child in the middle of this bullshit either. Looking over at Jungkook, I raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He nodded back at me with a grin. I smiled back at him.

“We should go while we have daylight,” Jungkook said, a pair of keys in his hands.

I had no idea where they had come from.

“I can wait,” I protested. “You should eat first.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. You haven’t slept since yesterday.”

“Y/N!” Jin scolded.

I non committedly waved him off. Scrunching my face up at Jin, I mumbled something close to ‘leave me alone,’ but I was doubtful it came out properly. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I leaned into Jungkook’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Guiding me away from the kitchen, I knew I heard Jin make a comment about how close we were.

“You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,” Jungkook snapped back.

“Does not,” Jin replied, childishly whining.

Johanna laughed and I could hear Yoongi coming down the stairs. Jungkook lead me back into the reading room and turned left. Going down two steps we were in front of a door.

“Be safe!” Johanna called out.

“Always, noona,” Jungkook replied.

Leading me to the room, I realized we were in a garage. I was again surprised. There were two cars, both of them very nice and sleek, surrounded by expensive tools and equipment. Back in the day, I would have swiped everything in this room and stole one of the cars. Now, I was being led toward the black Marcedes on the farthest side of the room. 

“This one’s mine,” Jungkook said, attempting to fill the space.

“First one we haven’t stolen,” I joked.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I melted into the seat before Jungkook was in the vehicle. Opening the glovebox, I moved my legs out of the way as the man dug around the compartment. Finally he pulled a smartphone out and quickly turned it on. A few minutes later, the garage door was opening and we were pulling out of the large driveway. We passed Jin’s Jeep on the way out and Jungkook could not help but make a snide comment about the ugly car. I felt comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

“You know,” Jungkook announced, making my eyes snap open. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever worked with.”

I chuckled, my drowsiness making it difficult to focus. 

“Thanks. You’re not that bad.”

“I’ve been useless for the entire trip,” Jungkook argued. “You stole the cars, got me clothes, made sure we were able to get flights without getting into some shit for it, and you always tried to make me feel more comfortable.”

Snorting, I looked over at the man.

“I shot you.”

Jungkook burst out laughing.

“I broke into your house.”

“Eye for an eye,” I offered, laughing.

Jungkook spared me a look in order to flash one of his blinding smiles. I noticed now that his front teeth were slightly bigger than they should be. 

“Really,” Jungkook was serious again. “I feel bad for being dead weight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’m not really known for stealing cars or running off into the night, but I know how to kill someone.”

Looking at me again, Jungkook’s boyish smile and light eyes were on. In their place were hard lines, a slightly down-turned pout, and a coldness that surrounded him I was unaccustomed to. While earnest, his expression felt wrong. Jungkook was sunshine and this felt like an eclipse.

“No one is going to touch you. I’ll cut their fucking hands off finger-by-finger if need be to get my point across.”

“Why would you do that?” I asked, confused.

We did not know one another. Hell, I shot this fucking guy. And yet here he was devoting his life to keeping me safe. It was crazy. Then again, this life was like that. Putting myself in Jungkook’s shoes, I thought about it the other way around. Would I kill for him?

“Because you’re my friend,” He answered without hesitation. “You’re my friend and I would like to get to know you better.”

Yes, I thought, I would kill for this kid.

Humming, I decided against saying anything else. I was far too tired for this conversation. Letting my body win, I closed my eyes and leaned against the car window. I fell asleep quickly, but I found no peace. Ivan’s face flashed through my mind, his eyes alight with anger, and my blood was all over his hands. My screams echoed in the background. He placed his knife against my skin again and drew a “V” right next to the “I.”

Eleven years ago

Standing beside Hoseok, I stared up at the apartment complex wearily. It was small, bricked, and disgusting. I could smell trash and smoke everywhere and people were yelling. I did not like it here. Not at all.

Looking over at the older boy, I made sure to show him my discontent. I could admit that South End was nicer than my old place in Brooklyn, but only for the quieter atmosphere. Everything else was just as nasty. Hoseok shoved me forward and scolded me for acting like a “freak.”

“People are going to know you’re new,” Hoseok complained. “Then  I’m going to have to break their fucking head open for stepping out of line. Then Yoongi is going to dislike you. So, just fucking walk and keep your head down.”

Anger flaring, I stopped. Hoseok bumped into my back. Groaning loudly, he went to yell at me again. Scowling, I elbowed him in the stomach harshly. When he groaned and grabbed his stomach, I turned around and punched him in the face. While he barely moved, eating the hit easily, it seemed to get the message across.

“Don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” I seethed. “You’re not my dad.”

Waiting for Hoseok to hit me back, I stood there with my fists balled up. He looked at me intensely, his hands still clutching his stomach. His eyes went from my face to the small patch of exposed skin on my stomach. Knowing exactly what he was looking at, I pulled down the too-short shirt and yelled at him again to hit me.

Instead of violence, Hoseok simply took up straight. Breathing through his nostrils, he seemed to be calming himself down. I could see the start of a blackeye forming where I had hit him. My regret began eating away at me instantly, but I refused to back down. He deserved that hit. He needed to know I was not going to be his little plaything. 

Hoseok just continued to walk, telling me to follow, and I could tell he was trying to be nicer this time around. Confused and more uneasy than before, I kept my hands ready for a fight. I was not sure when this nice-guy act would stop.

Being shaken awake, I realized we were at Jungkook’s. Glancing at the time, I was shocked we had driven almost two hours. We were parked in a small lot with a large brick building to the right. Jungkook turned the car off and got out. Quickly following him, I wondered where we were.

It was a nice place. They looked like townhomes and I could smell someone barbecuing. Jungkook looked back at me, a few paces ahead, and continued to walk around to the front. Every house had large bushes in the front yards. Hydrangeas grew vibrantly along the walkway with spaces to make way for the entryway to homes. Jungkook turned and I followed.

The front was identical to the others. The only difference I could see was Jungkook’s ‘no shoes’ sign right out front. Rubbing my eyes, I continued to wake up and get the crust off of my skin.

“It’s small,” Jungkook suddenly said, “But it’s nice.”

“Where are we?” I asked, stepping into the house and kicking off my shoes.

“Chatham,” He replied, shrugging his jacket off. “It’s out of the way but I like the beach.”

The first thing I noticed was the large, beige sectional in the living room. On the wall was a large television above a faux fireplace. The entire house smelled like wood polish and oranges. I liked the carpeted floors and was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was. There were no photos or personalized art hanging on the walls, but I guessed Jungkook never really liked those sorts of things. He was personable but in the moment. Jimin was a photo monster.

Thinking of my friend, I hoped he was alright. It was unlike him to go full radio silent. At the very least he would have called and checked in. Perhaps he had and no one bothered to tell me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the large, gold framed mirror hanging above the dining table, I flinched. 

I looked just as bad as I had begun to feel. I was tired, my eyes puffy, and I was embarrassed by the drool dried at the corner of my lip. My shoulder was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the car and my clothes looked a mess. Jungkook had my duffle bag on his shoulder and I belatedly realized I have never even thought to grab it. I had not even brought it inside.

“Thank you,” I said.

Jungkook smiled at me. 

“It’s no problem. The room’s not being used anyway.”

“No,” I shook my head and walked up to him. Carefully taking the bag, I slug it over my shoulder with a knowing look. “Thanks for grabbing my shit. And for the room. I appreciate it.”

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck and turned red. He was not good with compliments no matter how much he seemed to enjoy them.

“Friends, right?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

Walking past him, I distracted myself from my racing heart by figuring out where his washing machine was.

After taking a shower, I tip-toed my way back to the room Jungkook had given me. I had been on edge since I got here. He was kind, caring, and attentive. I had never really seen someone show all three at the same time, and never toward me. My friends and I were subtle types, so to have someone so open and honest with their feelings was a hard pill to swallow. In California it was safe, in California it was expected, in California it was sacred; in Boston it was nerve wracking.

I could never be sure of how genuine Jungkook really was. When I was in his presence, it was easy to say that he was just that simple. Once I got alone it took all of me not to sneak out of a window and run. Hoseok had always said I needed to work on trusting people, so I would try.

I knew my behavior was only heightened by my attraction to him. Attractive people were the worst. Liking Jungkook would not do any favors for either one of us. I would get swallowed up by the life I so desperately wanted to leave, and Jungkook would be stuck in an awkward situation with the rest of the crew if it came to the light. No one would win and the outcome would be the same if I said anything or not. I was leaving Boston as soon as the situation was handled.

Luck was not on my side. As I turned the corner to reach the door of my bedroom, Jungkook was coming up the stairs. Carrying two cups, he flashed me a small smile and walked the rest of the way up. I froze in my spot. Caught red handed, I tried to play off my unsuccessful sneaking and took the cup with a smile. Jungkook did not seem to buy it but looked more amused than anything.

“What’s this?” I asked, smelling it.

“Cocoa,” He replied. “It’s not winter but still chilly.”

I nodded and took a generous sip. It was warm and silky. Humming in satisfaction, I took another sip and licked my top lip. Cocoa was one of my favorite things when I was a child. It was one of the few fond memories I had. Jungkook looked happy.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked. “To get your mind off things?”

It was funny that he thought Ivan was what had been plaguing my mind. I may not be a very violent person now, but there was a time I was ruthless. The Russians did not scare me as much as they once had either. My initial response had been mostly shock, anger, and most of all, frustration. I had not been scared in a very long time. I doubted I ever would be.

“Sure,” I said, keeping my thoughts out of the conversation. What Jungkook did not know will not hurt him. He was only trying to help. “I’m not picky.”

Going down the stairs, I felt the same nervous butterflies growing in my stomach again. We were going to be closer than I would like to be. I was afraid of what that might do to the both of us. I did not know where Jungkook’s head was, but I was not foolish enough to believe that I was immune to any advances. The ball would stay in his court. I had enough self control to let that be a rule.

Sitting on the couch, I curled up on the end and waited. Netflix was already pulled up and waiting. Jungkook sat two cushions away. Picking up the remote from the coffee table, he began scrolling as we talked about possible movies to watch. We ended up on a random Jason Statham film. I watched mindlessly since every one of his movies were practically the same.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asked me fifteen minutes in, clearly bored and disinterested in the action sequence. I could not blame him. There was no way anyone could use a gun like that in real life, and I was becoming annoyed by the plot armor. “I have ramen.”

I nodded, “That’s fine.”

Moving to stand up, Jungkook waved me off and went to the kitchen himself. Not arguing, I got more comfortable and zoned out once more. It was hard not to feel the pull towards him. All I kept thinking about was the way his lips felt at the airport. Refocusing on the movie, I rolled my eyes at the bomb scene. There was no way in hell you were getting up and walking away from something that big.

Of course, Jason Statham had done just that. 

Jungkook came back a few minutes later, two large cups of ramen in hand, and sat down at the sofa. We ate in silence, neither one of us interrupting the bad movie again. When I went up to bed I could only think about how his hands would feel on me.

Taglist: @ippid @jkslaugh97 @destructive-memories @ash07128 @heartjiminie @adventures-in-bookland @canyon-lwt​ 

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Naughty Little Secret Pt.2

Reactions of Genshin men finding your spicy literature.

Ft. Childe, Albedo, and Alhaitham  (Aka blue eyed boy edition)

(PART 1) Ft. Diluc, Cyno, and Thoma  (PART 3) Ft. Scaramouche, Itto, and Xiao

Tags: PG-13, Sexual Themes, GN!Reader, Technically SFW, Crushes, TW!Blood (Albedo) but it’s very mild, LOTS OF TEASING Notes: I swear my first time writing a character always turns out so long. I so appreciate everyone cheering me on tho! Feel free to send suggestions to my inbox! 💘(Repost!)

Childe

Spicy romance novels were your guilty pleasure. After a rough week at work, you deserved to sit back at Yanshang Teahouse and let the flow of words on the pages guide your imagination. You held your newest purchase in your hand and pondered if the cover art was a coincidence. Perhaps deep down, you subconsciously picked the book with a pretty ginger boy on the cover.

Tartagalia hadn’t visited Liyue in a while... and maybe there was a part of you that missed the tall handsome Snezhnayan boy just a tiny bit. You were a tad totally heartbroken when your friend departed from the harbor. He would come by your work quite often just to chat and whenever he had time to kill. Eventually, his company and charming words just became a part of your routine. It was impossible not to be dazzled by the boy’s abundant attention. But as time passed and you felt confident that you were completely over your little crush. You shook your head of those thoughts, it wasn’t important why you chose the book you did. You were here to enjoy yourself and you were hell bound to do just that.

The orange haired protagonist finds himself swept up in trouble much bigger than himself. To protect what’s dearest to him, he becomes a spy to an organization he holds no loyalty to. While behind enemy lines, he meets a girl who sees right through the mask he puts on. She not only figures out he’s a spy, but also sees his bleeding heart that has the ability to turn for the better. Your heart ached for the boy. The way he was stuck between his duties and who he loved made you feel endless sympathy for the protag. He had to betray one in the end to accomplish the other. 

His mission was going to be completed in the morning. After that, he would never see the girl again. The handsome ginger spilled his feeling, laying himself out bare to the girl he loved. She knows, she always did, and she wanted to show him now on their last night. Emotions flood forward as their bodies tangle with one another. He wants her to feel his earnest passion.  He wants to bring her joy, to bring her the happiness she deserved, to bring her pleasure...  A low familiar whistle pulled your mind from the scene. No way...

“Huh, so this is what you do while I’m away...” A cheeky voice teased. You whipped your head to look at the widest shit eating grin that you’ve ever seen since.... well since he left.  

“Tartagalia? What- When did you?” You were reeling and sputtered in surprise and embarrassment. You attempted redirect his attention and tuck the novel behind you as a last ditch effort to save your pride. But alas, Ajax was not known to be a merciful guy.  

“Ah ah ah Y/N, I hadn’t got a good look at that last page. I just have to know about those ‘rippling abs’ mentioned.” Childe playfully reached behind you and snagged the book from your grip. You tried to swipe it back but his reflexes were too fast. “You don’t mind sharing right?”

“I’m serious give it back Childe!”  You threatened, but it only spurred him further. He had a whole head up on you, and was talking full advantage of it. Childe held the book open above you and dramatically cleared his throat before reciting naughty lines from the passages. Your felt your face burn red in both embarrassment and now absolute fury. 

This kid was so dead!

Albedo

There was urgency in your steps while you trekked through the snowy path. You visited Dragonspine enough times to know the beaten trail even when covered in fresh snow, but it was still your least favorite part of coming to the lab. If you had to list your favorite part, well...... your friend Albedo wasn’t exactly terrible to look at. You were glad to see him again so soon. Typically, you purposely spaced out your visits up the mountain, but when you received a letter asking for your assistance in a research matter you really couldn’t say no. 

As junior librarian of the knights, you were tasked with dropping off books and other study material to Albedo’s lab. It’s a grueling task but the two of you got along very well so you were always happy to do it. That being said, you weren’t exactly a person of science and opted reading into history and arts most times. Through years of knowing Albedo, you had to set a clear cut boundary on being a test rat for the alchemist. So far he has respected your wishes, so you didn’t assume it was why he’d call you out here. The curiosity was almost as bad as the blistering cold hitting your nose. As soon as the light illuminating from the lab was in view, you rushed forward desperate for warmth. 

“Y/N, I’ve been awaiting you.” Albedo greeted you kindly. 

“Hey Albe-” The words died in your throat when you caught sight of your friend. The blond’s hair was free from its usual up-do, messy locks framed the boys handsome features and flowed over his shoulders. Albedo’s neat attire was now lax, his knightly accessories nowhere to be seen. What could be seen was the expanse of the alchemist’s collarbone since two additional buttons were undone on his dress shirt. Somehow even while fully clothed, it felt indecent to witness him like this. “Is... everything alright Albedo?” You asked, averting your eyes to keep from ogling your friend. 

“Of course.” Albedo answered easily, his voice was low and sultry. “Please take a seat Y/N. I have something urgent that needs your eyes.” He directed you, cocking his head towards the small table. Your brain was short circuiting and all you could think to do was obediently sit. You had never seen the serious and calculated man like this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. Albedo served you a cup of hot tea and opted to lean against the table instead of sitting. 

“So... um what did you need me to look at.” You asked awkwardly, unsure what to do with yourself. 

“Well obviously I want you to look at me Y/N” A light smirk formed across Albedo’s lips and he smoothly leaned over your chair. Your eyes followed every single movement while your face quickly began to heat up. Where was all of this coming from? Should you be concerned? 

“W- what do you mean by that?” You blurted out, mind racing a mile a minute.

“I want you to-” Everything came to a screeching halt when your chair, that Albedo had been leaning on, began to tilt backwards. Both you and blond were sent crashing to the ground, ruining any kind of mood that was building. Your head ached from where you bumped it but Albedo intentionally took the brunt of it, completely face-planting into the hard floor. 

“Albedo are you alright??” You hovered over him. The boy simply turned to you and blinked. His stoic expression was more akin to what you typically were used to. 

“I apologize Y/N. It seems I didn’t fully grasp the concepts in the experiment before executing it. Are you hurt?” He stood up and carefully helped you to your feet. He examined you for any signs of injury, regardless of his obviously bleeding nose. 

“Im good, the chair broke most of my fall. You on the other hand...” You grabbed a handkerchief and try to assist him. “Wait... experiment? Is that what this is all about?” You accused, slightly irked. 

“Yes, I saw a fascinating book among the study material you left behind recently. I assumed that it was a new subject you had recommended for me.” Albedo stated simply. “Its contents was um... quite intimate at times, but I thought it was a interesting perspective on forming human connections.” You felt froze, but this time not from the blistering cold. 

“Did the book have um.... did it have a pair of cuffs on the front?” You asked, praying to the archons that you were mistaken.

“Yes, I studied it extensively.” Albedo replied without a hint of shame on his features.  You replayed his interactions and what had just transpired in your head and looked back over to your friend.

“Okay two things. One, don’t you dare breathe a word to anyone about that book or else I’ll be very upset with you. And two, that was fucking hilarious.” You bursted out in laughter at the absurdity of the whole happenstance. Albedo gazed back at you confused, but your amusement was undeniably infectious. He smiled fondly back at you. Although the experiment couldn’t be labeled a success, the outcome was still one he found pleasing.  

Alhaitham

It was grueling working in the Akademiya recently. The overthrow of power left everyone with plenty to do. You would go mad from attending meeting after meeting if you didn’t have some sort of stress outlet. Writing was a way you liked to ease your mind, like an escape of sorts. You loved writing loose plots for light novels and dreamed to one day send an entry to the “Wow This Novel is Amazing!” contest in Inazuma. You were far from a finished manuscript, but it’s days like these that gave you inspiration. After working through piles of paperwork, you earned yourself a moment of indulgence. Especially when stress was eating you alive, your scenes tended to take a turn for the... suggestive. 

The scene opened to the main character pondering why their mentor kept themselves at arms length. She respected him immensely and strives to uphold his reputation by improving her skill. He was young and handsome, skilled far beyond his years. They held a close bond, closer than either of them have ever experienced. Now it was unclear why he was giving her such a cold shoulder. She confronts her mentor about the reasons behind his actions. He expresses his pride in her, how she has come far in the their time together. But for her to achieve new highs, she must leave him behind. His feelings for her would only be a hindrance now. 

She felt the tension between them for some time now. It was lingered in soft bushes between fingers, meaningful glances over meals, and caring gestures done without thinking. She’s fallen for the beautiful man, to a point that it wasn’t logical. No words need to be exchanged, only body heat. Arms hold onto the other in yearning desperation. Lips hungrily meet, as if they’ll never to be sated. Her want clouds all her senses and she could feel his willingness to give her everything, all of him. Hot needy breaths trail down her body, discarding any clothes that stood barrier, until he finally put his mouth directly on- 

“Busy Y/N?” The amused man asked from the doorway. You jump in response, quickly pushing aside the parchment that you were writing on. 

“Alhaitham! What are you doing here?” You pipe up, surprised to see your friend for more than one reason. Alhaitham had been promoted to acting grand sage while the rest was still settling, he had to be incredibly busy. 

“I see you’re not very excited to see me,” Alhaitham teased, strolling casually into your office anyway. “Even after I went through the trouble of coming to grab the data reports myself and pay you a visit.” He tsked. 

“You came to see me? Ah, so you need a favor.” You playfully jabbed back, easily finding comfort in the other’s company. It really had been quite a while. If it weren’t for the man’s inflated ego, you might have told him that you’ve missed him. 

“You wound me. It’s not an oddity for colleagues reconnect reminisce while also carrying out an errand for the acting great sage.” Alhaitham replied smoothly, not bothering to go through the motions and pretend to act hurt.

“Yikes, already pulling the ‘acting great sage’ card.” You chuckle. Alhaitham and you have worked closely together for years, so you didn’t mind going out of your way to do him a favor. But maybe one day he would learn that all he had to do was ask nicely. 

“It would be foolish to not use the assets as they are presented to me.” The former scribe shrugged. He opened his mouth as if to continue the witty banter, but a beep from on his person alerted him of something. “I’ll have to brief you later. I’ll just take the data reports and be on my way.”

“Right, here it goes.” You handed him the prepared stack of papers on your desk and just like that Alhaitham was gone, off to his next endeavor. Wow he really is swamped now a days. You thought, ready to get back into your writing. Ideas kept flowing through you as you looked for the parchment you just had.... Wait it was just right here. Oh no.

-

“ALHAITHAM! I NEED THE DATA REPOR-” You barged into acting grand sage’s office, which was no easy feat. You were stopped again and again by all the matra crawling about. Your mouth ran dry when spotted the parchment in the smirking man’s hands. You wished the floor would just open up and swallow you whole so that you wouldn’t have to look at that cocky handsome face. 

“The data report? Certainly, it’s right over there on the desk.” Alhaitham stated, not bothering to take his eyes off your handwriting. “I’m still going over some of it now and I have to say, it’s quite in depth.” He went on.

“You are such a jerk! Give it!” You resorted to trying to snatch it, but the former scribe easily turned away without sparing you even a single glance. You knew what he wanted and damn did it feel like making a deal with the devil. “I’ll owe you a favor, no questions asked. Just hand it over and keep your mouth shut.” 

“Two favors.” He bargained without batting an eye.

“You’re pushing it-”

“One is for my silence and the other for the safe return of your... passion project.” Alhaitham interjected, finally tearing his eyes from your writing to shoot you a glance above the paper. You willed a stern expression onto your face, even while a furious blush bloomed cross your cheeks. A curt nod sealed the agreement and the man casually returned the parchment to you as promised. You snatched the paper from him and averted your gaze.

“Y/N you have quite the knack for imagery.” Alhaitham added slyly. You expected he would tease you a little longer, so you braced yourself for the worst. What you did’t expect was the tall man to lean over you with his hand braced on the desk. Your eyes shot up to his in surprise. “If you’re ever in need for another peer review, I’d be happy to offer my services.” He winked. 

<A/N: These men need to be stopped>

[ladyzayismultifandom]

3D

College AU: fuckboy!Jeon Jungkook x Reader Genre: smut with heavy use of mirrors

Warning Tags: mirror play, cunnilingus, raw sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, and pussy drunk jungkook lol.

Description: Your friend with benefits wants to show off his new purchase and he knows just the right way to do it.

Minding your business and studying for your upcoming exam you ponder over what would really help motivate that burnt out brain of yours.

Too bad nothing was coming to mind. Or at all. It had been a minute since your guy bestie turned sneaky link back to just friends with benefits hit you up. It's complicated.

About a year ago when you were sophomores at a Halloween party a few drinks in the two made out in a closet during a game of 7 minutes of heaven. Your friendship with him has been questionable ever since. What your girlfriends don't know is that ever since then the two of you still hook up regularly. You just pretend it was a whoopsy but low-key if he asked you on a real date one day you'd probably say yes.

Sitting in your office your phone starts to vibrate. Speak of the devil. You pick up the phone "Yes, Jeon?"

"So if you're ready and if you'd let me" He sings

"Jungkook" You warn him.

"I wanna see it, in motion, in 3D" He continues. You look at the phone and sigh ready to hang up.

"Y/N don't hang up! I'm sorry" You smile and put the phone back to your ear. "Apology accepted. What do you want?"

"Now we both know that." Still smiling you close your laptop slowly backing up from your desk about to pack a spend a night bag. "Shouldn't you be studying? Finals are right around the corner."

"Can't focus but speaking of being around the corner come outside I gotta show you something." Shit. You shove some clothes in your bag and sprint to the front of your apartment complex in a big hoodie so none of the other students from your university notice you getting in Jungkook's Jeep.

You look at him up and down. He's wearing a black sleeveless shirt showing off his colorful tattoos with dark blue jeans paired with some nice Jordans. His piercings looked extra shiny today. Although you'd never tell him that his piercings made him cuter since he prefers to be called sexy you can't help but coo sometimes. You couldn't lie to yourself. He looked damn good. "So what do you want to show me?"

Back at his place you get comfortable throwing off your shoes somewhere and taking off your big hoodie. You look around the place still looks the same so what could he possibly have to show you?

"Come on it's in my room" He takes your hand with no hesitation and pulls you towards his room. Other than obvious fuck boy red LED lights he had on you did notice something different.

The ceiling mirror.

This mirrors oversees the entire bed. He must have done this on purpose. He already has a full body mirror facing the bed but you guess that wasn't enough. He needed something to confirm his ways.

"What do you think?" He hovered right by your ear. You had forgotten he was right next to you.

"I think you're ready for a onlyfans account." He pulls your back against his chest holding you by your hips. Who says I don't have one already?" Like butter you're melting into him already. Soaking in his scent. He kisses your cheek. "Let's make a movie" He whispers.

"Jungkook!" You smack his hands away, go up to the light in his room and turn the LED lights off. You always preferred the natural lighting from his bedroom window anyway. No neighbors to catch you fucking on the other side. Just the birds and the trees.

"Y/N I'm serious. Let's make a movie."

"For who? Your little fan club at school? No thanks." You plopped onto his bed looking at yourself in the new ceiling mirror. He laid down next to you.

"No just for you and me. Think about it." He got closer. " When you're away during the holidays I know you think about me sometimes. You could watch it whenever you miss me." You turn your back to him.

"Sounds like something more beneficial to you."

"Aww baby don't do me like that. You know the feelings mutual"

"Why don't you ask your other girls to do it? I bet they'd do all kinds of tricks for you on camera."

"Exactly they do the fucking most but you're... special. " Curiosity eats at you as you turn back in his direction.

"Special how?"

"You know what you want and exactly how to get it. I don't have to teach you anything or talk you throu-"

"What if I want to be?" You cut him off.

"You want me to talk you through it?" He grins, and your frown comes back. He takes your leg and wraps it around him as he slowly rubs your thigh. "You want me to talk you through it while I'm balls deep inside you? Is that it? You wanna watch yourself come undone on my dick in the mirror, baby?" His hands creep into your pants, slowly rubbing against that damp spot on your underwear. You let him take off your pants, revealing how soaked you really are. At the edge of the bed on his knees, he pulls you to him.

"So what's it gonna be, princess?" He kisses up your thigh, making his way to the point of no return

"Kookie" you moan. His brown eyes darken.

"I need a verbal yes, baby,"

"Yes! Hurry up!" You lean up on your elbows to look at him but not for long as he dives deep, taking your breath away. "Fuck Kookie ~"

Looking up, you get a better view of the two of you. Your shirt riding up with you breast poking out a little. Suddenly thankful you didn't put on a bra earlier when he came to pick you up. Your panties on the floor, Jungkook on his knees, face deep in your pussy. Something about the sight of yourself getting eaten out turned you on more than the act itself. Suddenly, you felt empathy for Narcissius. Looking this good while getting fucked how could you not fall in love with yourself?

Looking into the mirror in front of the bed, you could see just how wet you were getting. To keep from your legs shaking so much, Jungkook held your legs apart. His gently kissed your clit before looking up at you with honey glazed eyes full of lust.

"Enjoying the view?" His voice brought you out of your bliss. When did he take his clothes off? Who cares.

"Come here. Now." You demand. Like a devoted servant, he comes at your beck and call. Crawling over you to give you what you need. He takes off your shirt the veil between the two of your naked bodies before kissing you. You can taste yourself on his lips. The sweet aroma of his cologne and his tongue gracefully gliding in your mouth drives you crazy. Your pussy clenches on nothing and you start to pant a little. You slop your hand between the two of you to relieve yourself a little, but he grabs your hands and put them above your head with one. "Not yet." He kisses your neck trailing down to your breast. You whine as he sucks your breast the overwhelming neglect of your pussy starting to piss you off but your moans keep coming as do you because as soon as he reached down and finally touched you a waterfall shot out of you.

"See, baby? Patience" You couldn't take it anymore, so with all your might, you pushed him and got on top. His dick sprang to life, ready for you. In one swoop, you sank on top of him. His hips stiffened, making a o with his mouth eyes closed, hands tightly gripping your hips. Satisfied you leaned back a little and ride him not really caring about pace just getting there. You looked up at the two of you. Breast bouncing up and down, ass never looked better, His dick disappearing inside you more magical then any trick you've ever seen while his hair starts to break a sweat keeping up with you. You couldn't stop it was like a dark sex ritual.

While distracted, Jungkook took your arm and pulled you down to him for another mind shattering kiss. You couldn't think when he kissed you. Your mind that seemed to always be racing went completely dark as he kissed you. Without pulling out he rolled you over on your back, wrapping your legs around his waist before he drilled you. Your hands wrapped around his neck, scratching his back as you got closer.

"Look at you a dripping mess on my bed. I don't think you've ever swallowed my dick like this before baby" He slowed down but that didn't stop the pressure as he pulled all the way out and slammed back in making you both gasp.

"Fuck baby look at you." You did. Under the mirror the two of you were a tangled sweaty mess. You would definitely need a shower after this. Watching his hips grinding into yours as you hold him tight was your breaking point. " Kookie I'm-"

"I know, baby, just come. I got you" and just like that you fell apart. Oceans crashing, eyes rolling back, holding Jungkook for dear life as he helped you ride it out slowly before he pulled out. His seed leaking out of you. Coming back to reality you looked at Jungkook as he sported that dumb smile that you lowkey love. "What?"

"I told you you were special."

A/N: HAPPY KINKTOBER!

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Movie Night

kol mikaelson x reader (minor poly!mikaelsons x reader) | requested

summary: kol is unsure about letting his siblings meet you, afraid they'd scare you away and he'd lose his best friend (and the girl he's in love with). but when he finally brings you home one night, his family has a reaction he never would've expected.

tags: mutual crush / pining, flirting, confessions

word count: 2.1k

“They asked to meet you again,” Kol says suddenly, “I keep saying no, but they keep asking.”

You smile a little, curiosity peaked. “What’s the harm?”

“They’re… difficult sometimes. You know how families are.” He bites his tongue, afraid to say too much. You two are best friends; very loving and protective of each other. But there seems to be only two responses that the Mikaelsons ever give: complete obsession or extreme dislike. They could either love you or hate you, and Kol’s not sure which is worse. 

“Yeah, but what family isn’t complicated? I’m sure they’re not so bad.”

“Y/N,” he sighs, tone somber, “are you forgetting my brother is Klaus Mikaelson? The greatly feared hybrid that terrorized Mystic Falls before he even arrived to town? And the rest of them are only a diluted version of his madness.”

“You aren’t.”

“You didn’t see me in the 1600s, darling.”

“Well that was then and this is now. I’m not afraid, Kol. I know you’ll keep me safe if they try anything.”

“You know I will. They wouldn’t dare.”

“Then there’s no reason to worry.” You give him another smile. 

As soon as he meets your eyes, he looks down immediately. Your smile gives him butterflies. Kol would be lying if he said he didn’t harbor a little crush on you. That’s part of the reason he doesn’t want you to meet them - he’s afraid they’ll scare you away and you’ll want nothing to do with him. “I’ll try not to,” he finally replies. 

A few minutes go by before you groan and shuffle in place. “This line isn’t going anywhere.”

The wait time on the screen says fifteen minutes, but it’s been way longer than that. You take a sip of the drink balanced in your arms amongst popcorn and snacks. 

“I guess that’s what we get for trying to see a new movie on opening night.”

“Do you still want to see it?”

Kol’s juggling his own handfuls, or else he would’ve taken yours so you wouldn’t have to carry it. When he realized he couldn’t carry yours on top of his own, he apologized. It’s little things like that that make you want to cross the best friend boundary. He’s just so sweet, funny, and gentlemanly. Though you have yourself convinced that you’re way out of his league. I mean, come on - why would an original vampire date a mere human? You shook your head a little to send the thought away. 

“Eventually, yeah. But I’m not so committed to this line.” 

Lost in your head, you forgot you asked him a question. It takes you a second to ponder a response, but then he continues, 

“Alright, how about this? We’ve already got the drinks and snacks, so why don’t we go to my house and watch something there? It’s plenty dark, usually quiet. It’ll be just like the movies.”

“Wait, did you say at your house?” Usually your own house is the movie destination. Did Kol just propose to go to his instead?

He shrugs, “my family wants to meet you, you aren’t intimidated by them. They might be there and I could introduce you, or we could slip in and watch a movie in peace.” You’re stunned for a minute, and he starts to take it as hesitation. “Unless you don’t want to. I understand completely if you don’t.”

“No, we should! I’d love to meet your family, Kol, no matter how scary.”

“Okay.” He puts a smile over top of his worry while he fishes his keys from his coat pocket. “I’ll drive.”

On the short ride to his house, he gives you a basic rundown of each of his siblings. He knows you already know most of what he’s telling you, but it distracts him from his nerves. And you, recognizing he seems more antsy than usual, listen quietly. 

“So to summarize, they’re all pretty outspoken, very protective, and often threatening, but if you’re someone they care about, you have nothing to fear.”

Kol swallows hard at that. You’ve got it on the nose, but your awareness doesn’t give him much comfort. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, cool. Let’s go.”

To his horror, all three siblings are in the living room at that moment. As soon as the two of you enter, all eyes snap to you. 

“Well that was a quick movie,” Rebekah had started. Then she sees her brother’s company. “And who might you be?”

“Bex, Nik, ‘Lijah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is the family.”

“Hi!” You greet them with a smile.

For a second, they only stare. Though Elijah’s first to speak, “Very nice to meet you, Y/N. I suppose you are the friend my brother speaks of so often?” When you nod, he continues. “My, was he right when he said you were beautiful. Those e/c eyes remind me so much of the stained glass windows they used to make in the 1100s. Kol, do you recall it?”

Once he gets over the perplexed feeling running in his head, Kol clears his throat. “I do, brother. And yes, Y/N is quite beautiful, as I told you. She’s a good friend.”

“More than beautiful,” Klaus compliments, “she’s a work of art. Would you like to sit, love?” 

Your face turns red as the men praise your features. Your response comes out in a stutter. “U-um, I’m okay. The movie we tried to see had a really long line, so Kol suggested we just come here to watch one instead.”

“Kol suggested it? I’m surprised he would let us meet you. He’d been denying our curiosities for months.”

“Don’t put her on the spot, Nik, she’s-”

“Oh, she’s fine, brother. She’s doing well for someone in her position. Y’know,” Klaus twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers, “it must be quite intimidating to meet a whole family of original vampires all at once.”

Don’t scare her, Niklaus! Ease up on the poor girl,” Rebekah interrupts, swatting his hand from you. “And don’t touch her without her permission.”

“I’m sorry, love. Your hair just looked too soft.”

“It’s alright. But um, yeah, it’s a bit intimidating, but I’m not easily shaken.” You straighten your back. “I was actually wanting to meet you all, too.”

“See if we live up to the tales?” Rebekah teases. Her eyes stare into yours, and you find it hard to maintain eye contact. 

“Not really,” you admit, “just wanted to meet Kol’s siblings. Out of curiosity.”

“Ah. So are your expectations met?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know what to expect.”

Elijah then steps forward. “Tell us this, Miss Y/N. Do you feel safe in this moment? Or would you like Kol to take you away from here?”

It’s an odd question, even to Kol. The man’s throat dries and he narrows his eyes. Is his brother threatening or welcoming you? 

“I um…”

“Please, be honest.”

“I’m good. I mean, I feel safe.”

Elijah’s straight lips curve into a smile. “Delightful. It was an honor meeting you, Miss Y/N.”

“T-thank you. You too, Elijah. All of you, I’m glad we got to meet.”

“I second that,” Klaus approaches you again, “what a lovely girl my brother’s brought home to meet the family.”

“Friends, Niklaus,” Elijah mutters under his breath. It’s quiet, but you can still hear it. “He’s said they’re just friends.”

Klaus gives the man a look, like he’s doubtful of that, but then turns back to you. “Apologies. What a lovely friend you are to my brother. Perhaps, if you’re available later, we can talk more. I’ll show you one of my favorite paintings. The shade is just like that of your skin.” His eyes travel your body like it’s a piece of art, and you can’t help but blush. 

“Okay. I’ll be sure to stay a while after the movie.”

“Wonderful!”

The eldest two leave you with the youngest two. Kol, teeth clenched in aggravation, turns to direct you to his room. His sister, however, beats him to your attention. 

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N, as my brothers have said. My, my, I sure do see why Kol speaks so highly of you.” She smirks a little. “Enjoy your movie, and if you need anything, I’m just down the hall.” As she walks away, she flashes you a wink, then disappears. 

Kol wastes no time bringing you to the lounge room where he and Bex used to kill time some hundred years ago. He explained in the car that they’d watch old black and white films in there together, while their brothers were off running amuck. Even now, they still retire to the darkened room for the occasional movie. 

“Sorry about that,” he says the minute he shuts the door. 

You cock your head at him. “Sorry about what?”

“Them.”

“What about it? They were nice.”

“Y/N…”

“What? Were they not nice? Is that their ‘not nice’ behavior?”

“No, darling. That was actually the nicest I’ve ever seen them.”

“Then what’s the-”

“They were all flirting with you, darling. Ogling you. Not a care about it.”

“Oh,” you whisper, realizing he might be right. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. We shouldn’t’ve come here.”

“Wait, Kol, it’s alright. I don’t mind.”

“No, it was totally inappropriate. In fact, I should talk to them about not doing it in the future.” He starts to rant. You’ve learned to not interrupt Kol when he’s ranting, because he’ll miss every word you say. “God, I didn’t want them to see you because I thought they’d scare you off, but I didn’t think they’d so openly hit on you! Elijah, too, where did his manners go? And I mean, I know why they were. You’re gorgeous, Y/N, and I’d want you, too, but…” he stops, realizing what he had admitted. 

Your heart leaps out of your chest, but then falls to the hard ground all at once. I’d want you, too, but…

“But what?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Kol.”

“It’s nothing, darling.”

“Kol, tell me. Please!”

He takes a deep breath. “I can’t have you. I can’t put you in that kind of danger. Being your friend puts you at risk enough, but if we were anything more, you’d become a target. I can’t let that happen; I can’t let anything bad happen to you.” One glance, he allows himself to take, before dropping his eyes back to the ground. He sees your frown, but misses the way your eyes search for him. “Besides… you’re better off with a human, not someone with such a violent past like myself.”

“Well I’d like to disagree with that last part,” you snort, “your past doesn’t matter to me. Right now is what matters. Also, being a vampire doesn’t make you violent. Plenty of humans are violent.”

“That’s not the point, Y/N, I’m saying-”

“I know what you’re trying to say. But I’m saying I like you regardless of whatever you’ve done in your past. And - since you already admitted it, what’s the harm in me saying it, too? - I like you. More than a friend. I have for a while.”

Finally, he looks up at you and doesn’t break eye contact. “You do?”

“How could I not?”

“But what if you get hurt? If we were to have something?”

“Well, one, you’d protect me. You already do, so why would it be any different now? Two, I don’t care. If that’s the only thing standing in the way of us trying this out, then we’ll just have to face it head-on. And who knows? Maybe it’ll never happen. But I want to be with you, if you want it too.”

“More than you know, darling.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, giddy with excitement. “So what first, boyfriend?” You test the term out, tasting it on your tongue. You like it. 

Kol’s smile tells you he likes it, too. “Well I have a great idea for our first date. How about a home movie?”

“Perfect idea. What time?”

“Right now.”

The two of you move to the couch and assemble your drinks and snacks. Only this time, when you sit beside one another, he can confidently put an arm around your back to pull you close. 

“A true gentleman waits until at least one date to kiss the girl,” he mutters into your ear, “but that’s not counting these.” Then, you feel a quick kiss to your cheek. 

Your face blushes instantly. “Okay, so how about you press play so we can get to the end of the night?” 

He senses your quickened heart rate at the thought of getting to kiss him for real. It makes his own heart race, too, but he holds himself back. Instead, he gives you another kiss on the cheek in the meantime. “Oh, we’re just getting started, darling.”

[hihomeghere]

Baptized by Fire : Chapter two

Summary : A view into Charles and Arthur's relationship before you arrived at the cabin. You start to settle in to the cabin, still wary of the two men after eavesdropping on their conversation the previous night. Both take time to teach you a new skill. Your past rears it's ugly head, and you aren't sure what to do with all these feelings. Word count : 4.5k Warnings/Tags : Mentions of death, mentions of abuse, nudity, allusions to sex, skinning animals for meat, reader has female genitalia and is referred to as ‘she’, cursing, Arthur had TB but survived and now has chronic issues because of it, mention of hanging, barely there gore, Charles Smith x Arthur Morgan, let me know if I missed any

Previous/Next

It wasn’t the normal glaring sunlight that woke Charles up that morning as he blinked awake. It was the howling of the wind, damn near rattling the windows. The storm was only getting worse, the snow piling up outside their small cabin. He let out a small groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Arthur was curled around him, his arm wrapped lazily around Charles waist. His lips parted like two rose petals as a snore left them. He chuckled softly, partaking in his favorite pastime, studying Arthur. How his skin was weathered by the sun, his cheeks lightly dusted with freckles. How hair never grew over his scar on his chin. Trailing his eyes over the crooked bridge of his nose, never set right after being broken more times than he wanted to know.

Charles’ heart warmed in his chest, caught aflame by the sight of his lover. He ran his thumb over Arthur’s lip, smirking as his brows furrowed in his sleep. Arthur let out a small groan of protest as he turned his face into Charles’ chest. 

“C’mon now.” Charles said, chuckling softly, “We ought to get up.”

“Who says?” Arthur mumbled, his words muffled against Charles’ bare chest

“I do.” He laughed

“When’d you become such a hard ass.” Arthur teased, smirking as his bright blue eyes found Charles.

“When did I meet you again?” He asked, pretending to ponder the question. Arthur rolled his eyes, moving his hand from Charles' waist up his chest. Lightly brushing against his nipple. “You start that again and we’re never gonna leave this damn bed.” He warned.

“That’d be quite a shame.” Arthur smirked, leaning in to nip at Charles’ earlobe. “Why don’t you ride me this morning, partner.” He hummed, pressing open mouthed kisses down Charles’ throat. 

A pleased hum rumbled through Charles' chest, his large hands gripping Arthur’s bare waist. He could feel Arthur’s growing erection, hot and heavy against his thigh. The soft velvety skin seeking friction against his body. 

“Damn it,” He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillow. “Later.” He growled, grabbing a handful of Arthur’s ass. Arthur’s brows pinched together in a small wince, something Charles picked up on immediately. “Was I too rough last night?” He asked, his playful tone replaced by concern as his brows pinched together. 

“You know I liked it.” Arthur grinned, “Just sore s’all.” He shrugged, kissing Charles' collarbone. 

“Arthur-“

“Oh don’t you ‘Arthur’ me.” He huffed, rolling his eyes, “I ain’t some damn porcelain doll.”

“I know you aren’t, you stubborn fool.” Charles said, rolling his eyes, “Doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned.”

“There ain’t nothin’ to be concerned about! I’m fine, I swear it!” Arthur said, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Now get going big fella or we won’t get nothin’ done today.” Arthur said, shooing him out of bed. 

-

“I shouldn’t be gone long.” Charles said as he put on his gloves, feeling Arthur’s eyes.

“I’ll be here.” Arthur sighed. If his gruff voice wasn’t an indication of his displeasure of being left, yet again, the not so subtle pout of his definitely was. His journal sat open on his lap, his fingertips darkened by the charcoal as he sketched away at the paper. Charles nodded, pulling his hat down as he braced himself for the cutting wind. Opening up the door, his hand shielded his eyes as he trudged through the snow. With each step he sank further into the white powder, his legs already aching. The wind biting at his cheeks and nose as he made his way to the barn. 

His stomach dropped as he saw the open door. He picked up his feet, rushing inside the barn. He counted the cattle even though he knew that damn bull was long gone.

In his haste to sink into Arthur’s body last night he must not have shut the barn door all the way. They had been having trouble with this damn beast ever since they purchased him. Constantly plowing through fences and running off. Arthur had got so damn angry last time he had threatened to kill the bastard.

Charles made sure the rest of the cows were there and fed before he trekked back to the house. 

“Damn bull got out again.” Charles huffed as he closed the door to the main cabin. The heat from the cabin burned his face and hands.

“You shittin’ me?” Arthur asked, letting out a frustrated huff. 

“Wish I was.” Charles said, shaking his head.

“You gonna go after ‘im?” Arthur asked, getting to his feet, “Want me to ride with ya?” Charles could tell how bad he was itching to get out of the cabin. Arthur couldn’t stand to be cooped up for too long, something ingrained in him with how often the gang used to move around. 

Although Charles had put his foot down about Arthur going out when the weather got bad. Last time Arthur had ventured out to tend to the livestock he came down with something. Not as bad as the tuberculosis, but it scared Charles all the same. 

He was holed up in bed for a week, a fever burning through him and coughing up a lung. By the time his fever broke, Arthur had soaked all the sheets they owned with his sweat.

He didn’t give a damn how much he pouted, there was no way Arthur was going out in this storm.

“Don’t know if it’s worth it.” He said crossing his arms, “Only thing that damn animal has brought us is a headache.” He ran his hand through his hair. 

“We could always just butcher him, find that little bastard and make a new rug.” He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Suppose we could.” Charles chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m gonna head out, see if I can pick up his tracks.”

“Take Buell, poor boy could use the exercise.” Arthur called over his shoulder. Charles nodded, walking over to Arthur. He bent down, cupping his cheek before pressing his lips against his. It didn’t matter how many times they collided like this. Charles always managed to steal his breath away, leaving him gasping for more. He wondered if Charles was his ruin and cure all at the same time. 

Arthur smirked as he pulled away, “I haven’t forgotten about your promise from this morning.” He said, gently tugging at his hair.

“I won’t be long.” Charles promised, his own smirk stretching across his face.

He had picked up somewhat of a trail. He supposed that that damn bull had gotten out shortly after he and Arthur went to bed. The snow had covered most of the tracks, and what it didn’t, the wind washed away. 

Buell snorted, pawing at the powdered snow as Charles urged him forward. 

“C’mon boy.” He said softly, patting the steeds' thick neck. His hands ached in his gloves, but at least he hadn’t lost feeling in them yet. He narrowed his gaze, his eyes watering as he looked across the frozen countryside. 

He caught sight of something, something much smaller than a bull. His heart leapt into his throat as the small being collapsed in the snow. He dug his heels into Buell’s side, the horse instantly picking up speed as they raced towards whoever was stupid enough to be walking around in a blizzard.

He jumped off, gathering the person in his arms. A woman, whose clothes were covered in icicles. Her eyelashes nearly frozen together with tears. 

He tore his coat off, a shiver running down his spine as he wrapped it around her. If he didn’t get her out of this cold, and fast, she’d die. 

He slung her over his shoulder as he mounted Buell. Maneuvering her into a bridal style carry as he rode back towards the cabin. 

“You find ‘im?” Arthur asked, not raising his head from his journal as the cabin door swung open. Still not over getting left behind, again.

“Not exactly.” Charles huffed, rushing towards the roaring fire. He laid the woman down on the rug, biting the fingers of his glove as he tore them off.

“Jesus Charles!” Arthur exclaimed, his journal clattering to the floor as he stood. 

“Help me get her clothes off.” Charles ordered, working the buttons of her blouse through the eyelets. 

“Oh dammit.” He sighed, frozen as he stared at the woman.

“You want a dead body on our hands!” Charles barked, shooting Arthur a glare. “Help me god dammit.” Arthur sank to his knees, pulling the woman’s frozen skirt off her body. 

“Furs, she needs furs.” He mumbled, stumbling to his feet as he raced to their bedroom. Charles’ heart sank as he bared her upper body. 

“Shit.” He mumbled, tracing his finger against the dark purple mark.

“Oh hell.” Arthur said as he returned, his eyes falling on the young woman. “Now who would…” He clenched his jaw, rushing over to the woman. Wrapping her in the furs and blankets, trying to avoid glancing at her naked body.

“Poor girl.” Charles sighed, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair. 

Arthur cursed under his breath, rubbing a hand over his chin. 

“I’m guessin’ you didn’t find the bull.”

“You’d be right.”

-

You ran the brush through your hair, knowing you couldn’t hide away in your room all day. Although you had no idea how you were supposed to face Arthur and Charles. Not after what you had heard last night. 

The two men were killers…but so were you. They didn’t know you knew, and they didn’t know about your sins.

But if they were bad men, why did they treat you, a vulnerable woman, with so much care? Why did they respect you and your anatomy when they could have taken advantage of you time after time?

It didn’t matter, you would just ride it out until the snow melted. You would just have to try and keep your distance. Although that seemed impossible, especially when there was nowhere to escape from them other than this room. And it didn’t help that you were completely engulfed by Charles' scent. If only you had some other clothes to wear.

You cinched the belt tighter around your waist, cuffing the pants at your ankles. It would have to do for now.

You opened the door, feeling like an absolute fool as you stepped into the main room. 

“Morning sleeping beauty.” Charles chuckled, his lip twitching upwards as he glanced over at you. 

“Funny.” You said, heat flooding your cheeks as you looked down. 

“Don’t tease the poor girl Charles.” Arthur said with a small smile, one of the first ones that actually seemed genuine from him.

What had happened between last night and this morning? 

“So, you still wanna learn to read?” Arthur asked, setting his journal to the side. 

Right! You had almost forgotten.

“Yes.” You nodded, unable to stop the grin that spread across your lips. Your worries melting like warm butter the longer you were around them.

“Well, first thing you gotta learn is the alphabet, all the letters.” He said, leaning against the table, his hand resting on his hip.

“You two have fun.” Charles chuckled, shaking his head as he left to tend to the animals.

“Now, there are twenty six letters.” Arthur said, turning your attention to the paper spread out on the table. “I’ve put them all in order.”

“There’s an order?” You asked, looking up from the papers.

“Yeah, course there’s an order.”

“But why?”

“Well cause-“ He paused, his brows furrowed as he looked down, “cause that’s just the way it is. Now it starts with the letter a.”

-

“Alright, which one is b?” Arthur asked, leaning forward as he quizzed you. Your eyes moved over the letters until you found it, tapping it with your finger. “Good! Now point to the letter r.”

You smiled at his praise, pointing to ‘r’. “Well ain’t you quick.” He chuckled, shaking his head, “God, it took almost a week for Dutch to teach me.”

“Was he your teacher?” You asked, your elbows resting on the table as you leaned forward. He faltered, his shoulders tensing before he nodded. 

“Sort of.” He said, clearing his throat, “Guess I was probably about ten years younger than you. Too bullheaded to actually pay attention to anything he had to say.” His voice softened, an almost melancholy sense to it. “You’ll probably be reading in another week or so.” He said.

“You think so?” You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your tone.

“Sure.” He nodded, “You’re a natural.” You beamed looking up into his eyes. He stared back, an expression you couldn’t quite place on his face.

Charles opened the door, returning from doing the chores. Arthur looked away, ending watever moment the two of you had.

“How was class today Mr. Morgan?” Charles teased as he took off his winter coat.

“Well she’s a hell of a lot smarter than me, that’s for sure.” He said giving you a small smile as he shook his head.

“I have a good teacher.” You smiled, looking from Arthur to Charles.

“Yeah?” Charles asked, his own smile spreading across his lips. “We got a scholar on our hands, Arthur.” Heat blooms in your cheeks as you bashfully lower your head. 

“Did ya make sure the barn door was closed?” Arthur teased, smirking up at Charles. 

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one day.” Charles chides, his words lacking any edge as he rolled his eyes. “Do you think you’re too tired for a different kind of lesson?” Charles asked, turning his attention to you.

“What kind?” You asked, straightening your back.

“Picked up a rabbit's tracks back near the barn, you ever skinned an animal?” He asked, a glint in his eye. You shook your head, your stomach flip-flopping.

“Oh come on girl, it ain’t that bad.” Arthur chuckled, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he passed you. Arthur’s touch did little to ease your nerves. “You gonna go get it?” Arthur said, crossing his arms as he leaned up against the table. Trying, and failing, to act nonchalant.

“Was thinking about it.” Charles hummed, “Would you go with me?” He asked, taking Arthur’s bait.

“Always.” Arthur grinned, grabbing his blue coat off the hook. “We’ll be back.” He nodded to you before the two of them headed out the door. 

It was the first time you had been left alone in their home. They trusted you enough to leave you alone in their home. You bit your lip, trying to stop your giddy smile from spreading. You piled up the papers, in alphabetical order, before setting them off to the side. 

-

You had successfully tidied up the cabin by the time they came back. Laughing as they opened the door, their cheeks flushed from the cold.

Arthur tossed the rabbit carcass onto the table, shrugging off his coat. 

The thought of learning a new… skill. Had been exciting at first, but now that the dead animal was in front of you, the only thing you wanted to do was cringe. 

“Oh it ain’t that bad.” Arthur chuckled, walking past you. In a better mood than you had seen him in all week. Spending an hour or two chasing down a small animal in the freezing cold would have had the opposite effect on you.

Charles sat down across from you, “It really isn’t that bad.” He smiled, handing you a hunting knife. You hesitantly took it, staring down at the unmoving animal. 

“Is this a skill I really need?” You asked, looking back up at Charles. 

“You don’t have to.” He said with a small shrug. 

“No- no I need to.” You said, shaking your head. You didn’t want to let either of them down, “What do I do first?” 

“Pinch the hide and make a cut near the base of its neck.” He instructed, nodding towards the rabbit. You swallowed thickly, pinching the back of the rabbits back. You sliced through its skin, grimacing. 

“Now what?” You asked, swallowing thickly as you looked down at the unmoving rabbit. 

“You’ll want to tear the opening- no not with the knife.”

“Well what else would I tear it open with then?” You huffed, setting the knife down on the table. Your breath coming quicker, your chest pounding against your ribcage.

“He means with your fingers.” Arthur called over his shoulders, a dry cough leaving his lips.

“You’re joking!“ You gasped, gawking at Charles. He barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Come on now sweetheart it isn’t that bad.” He grinned, quirking his brow. “Just put your fingers in the cut and pull.”

“And pull?” You gawked, “No- no, no, no, no.” Your legs shaky as you stood from the table, the lump in your throat growing “No I can’t.” You said, shaking your head as you wiped your hands off on your- Arthur’s- trousers.

Both the men burst out laughing, their voices ringing in your ears as the walls of the cabin closed in on you. Your breath started coming fast, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you looked down at the rabbit.

The memory of your fathers unblinking gaze forced itself to the front of your mind as you stared into the animal's cold dead eyes.

You rushed out of the cabin, bile moving up your throat as you pushed the door open. You swallowed hard, the cold air cooling your flushed cheeks. You leaned against one of the wooden beams of the porch. Digging your nails into your palms, the dull pain grounding you as your mind seemed to drift farther and farther away. 

Your father wasn’t a man to have many friends, who would want to be around a man like him? Would anyone have stopped by the house yet? You rarely got any visitors and not with weather like this. 

On one hand you wanted his body to be found, mainly so you wouldn’t have to think about the alternative. His body decomposing into the wooden floor of the kitchen. On the other hand, who would they suspect for his murder? A gunshot to the chest at that close of range could hardly be called an accident. Certainly not if you confessed to being the one who pulled the trigger. You could pin it on a robbery gone wrong. You ran for your life and got lost out in the woods, unable to return until the snow melted. It wasn’t entirely false. But if they didn’t believe you, you’d be hung for sure. Were a few moments of freedom worth your life? Although, how much of a life was it? You had experienced more living in the past week than you had in years. You had moments of actual joy, happiness. Although that thought only made you feel more conflicted, your stomach sinking like a rock.

“Hey.” Charles' voice cut through your constant flow of thought. The door of the cabin shut behind him. “Are you alright?” He asked, hesitantly stepping towards you, reminiscent of how he had approached you the first time you had met. 

“Fine.” You nodded, looking out at the snowy landscape. He sighed, walking up beside you.

“I can tell that you’re not ‘fine’.” You could see he was looking at you from the corner of your eye. 

“I’ll be fine.” You amended your statement, sparing him a glance. The two of you looked at each other for a moment, his eyes searching yours for something you didn’t want to give up.

“I’m sorry about the rabbit.” He said, his voice low and gentle. “I sprung it on you, that was my fault.”

“It’s not-“ You groaned, feeling tears prick your eyes as you covered your face with your aching hands. He kept quiet, letting the two of you sit in silence while you gathered your thoughts. He didn’t rush you, he waited patiently, as though the tension or the cold didn’t bother him. “It’s not about the rabbit.” You wiped at your face with the sleeves of your flannel. Sage and lavender filled your senses, the familiar and unmistakable scent of Charles.

“Was Arthur right?” He asked.

“About what?” You sniffled, looking up at him

“That you were running from something.” He answered, raising his brows. You pursed your lips, returning your gaze to the frozen landscape. Your frustration only growing at his uncanny ability to read you. 

“My father is not a kind man.” You said after a moment, making sure to refer to him in the present tense. “I had to get away.” You said swallowing thickly. Although you didn’t know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

He nodded, “You did the right thing.”

“You don’t know that.” You scoffed, shaking your head, “You don’t know me.” Your words were unnecessarily harsh, you regretted them as soon as they left your lips.

“I think I do.” He said, his brows furrowed. Although his eyes held no anger towards you despite his tone. “I think we're more alike than you realize.” He turned his gaze away from you, wiping the snow away from the wooden railing.

“What does that mean?” You asked, narrowing your eyes. He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“You are daft sometimes.” He smiled.

“Did you come out here to insult me?” You huffed. The cold did little to help your mood as you started to shiver.

“Is that what you think I came out here to do?” He asked, sighing as he looked over at you. “We are all running from something. Some of us have just been running longer.” He shrugged. You purse your lips, sticking your hands under your armpits to try and warm them up. 

“My father was a kind man until we lost my mother.” Charles said, staring up at the night sky. You softened, your brows pinching together as you looked over at him. “I suppose any man would lose part of themselves if they lost someone like her.” A low sigh left his lips. His voice carrying an undeniable sense of sadness. 

“I’m sorry.” You said softly, you wished you could do something to comfort him. Something that wouldn’t cross a boundary between the two of you. You hoped your words of condolences were enough. 

“Arthur and I started running around the same time in our lives, maybe that’s why we get along so well.” He said with a dry chuckle, a far away look in his eye. “Maybe that’s why we get along as well.” He suggested, his eyes near obsidian in the low light as they found yours. Like steel striking flint, a spark caught between the two of you. Warmth spread throughout your body despite the freezing temperatures. You couldn’t tell whether the goosebumps springing up on your arms were from the snowfall or from him. You didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how a man you had met nearly a week ago could make you feel things you hadn’t felt in years. How they both made you feel things.

Now that was a dangerous thought. 

“Are you not cold?” You asked, trying to snuff out whatever flame was now growing inside you.

“You’re the one who ran out here.” He said with a sly smile, “C’mon, supper won’t cook itself.”

 -

“How often do you boys go hunting?” You asked, nearly moaning over the rabbit stew. The two men smirked at each other before turning their attention back to you.

“Now you know we wouldn’t have had this meat if we hadn’t dressed that rabbit.” Arthur hummed, raising an eyebrow. 

“Dressed? If anything you two undressed him.” You said, your brows furrowed as you looked up from your bowl. Charles bit his lip, trying to hide his smile. Arthur on the other hand, didn’t even try to hold in his laughter. Heat crept up your neck as you looked between the two men. “I’ve said something foolish haven’t I?” You mumbled looking down.

“Not foolish, just funny.” Charles said with a kind smile.

“I’m guessin’ no one hunted much in your family?” Arthur asked, although he could have guessed that from the way you went white as a sheet while looking at the rabbit. You shook your head, shoveling another spoonful into your mouth.

“My father… he was- is a man that doesn’t know much about the outdoors.” You shrugged, hoping they didn’t catch your small slip up. “The only meat we ever got was from the butcher, if we had the money.” Which you never did. Most of the time you had to get creative just to eat something edible for supper. If that meant cutting eyes out of old potatoes you would do it. 

“This man sounds like the simplest of the lot.” Arthur huffed

“Arthur.” Charles warned, looking between the two of you. 

“No Charles it had to be said.” He said, setting down his silverware with a clang, “First the man says women shouldn’t be educated, which is the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard. Now she tells me he don’t know how to provide for his family, neither?”

“Arthur, it's okay really.” You mumbled, swallowing thickly as heat flooded your cheeks. 

“No it ain’t.” He growled, “A woman like you deserves the best in life, not some good for nothin’ father.” You bit your lip, looking down at the table. Your stomach twisting, as shame and gratitude fought for dominance in your head.

“Guess it’s a good thing you found me then.” You said, trying to ease the conversation into a new subject. An emotion flashed across Arthur’s face, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“Yeah… yeah I guess it was.” He said, picking up his spoon as he began to eat again. Charles watched the two of you with an almost knowing gaze. Although you didn’t know exactly what he knew. 

“I never did thank the two of you for saving me.” You said setting down your utensils. “Thank you, I mean it. You could’ve left me but you- well you saved my life. For that I will be forever in your debt.” 

“Well we couldn’t have left ya to freeze out there.” Arthur mumbled, looking down at his bowl as he ate. Although it seemed like he was purposefully avoiding your gaze. His words a far cry from his earlier sentiment of saving you,

“You’re welcome.” Charles said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

You nodded, your expression mirroring his as you looked at him from across the table. That warm fuzzy feeling settled in your stomach as the three of you ate. A dangerous thought crept into your mind, one that had been slinking forward for days.

You didn’t want to leave. 

You were comfortable, happy here with them. So they had made a few mistakes, hadn’t everyone? Like Charles had said, they weren’t those people anymore. Whatever that meant you believed him- or you wanted to believe him.You had to go. Before you got in too deep. Before these confusing feelings grew too large to be ignored. You would have to return home.

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[anjelagarrick]

comfort of a laugh track

alex keller x reader

summary: alex relishes the time he gets to share with you after being put on medical leave.

tags: ptsd, losing limbs, trauma recovery, established relationship, fluff with angst, clingy! alex, sharing a bed, sharing clothes, just two idiots in love, self deprecation

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

ALEX BREATHES SLOWLY, his exhale fanning over the bare skin of your shoulder. You’re fast asleep, completely unaware of him still being awake in the early hours of the morning. Alex had a habit of sitting and pondering, it was both a comfort and also a curse. He hated silence, but sometimes he hated his thoughts even more; he certainly didn’t want to wake you for petty comfort over practically nothing. Of course, you’d insist that any discomfort was worth soothing away with gentle touches and hushed kisses behind closed doors, but Alex knows his mind, he can fight the creeping bile that sits in his sternum as he closes his eyes.

It truly never feels real, how he almost died, how he lost his leg; how he almost left you behind despite always promising he’d come home to you. Alex’s eyes open again, and he’s in his home; in bed, arms wrapped around you. He isn’t on a battlefield, bleeding out somewhere, nor on a medical gurney with an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. Leaning forward, his sweaty forehead presses to your cool shoulder, facial hair slightly tickling you as you shuffle, taking a soft, sleepy breath. Alex waits for you to soothe again before moving, lips kissing your shoulder ever so gently before he nuzzles his face into the back of your neck. Holding you felt so surreal, like he was holding love itself- that ignited feeling never went away, and Alex knows he doesn’t want it to. He wants to love you forever.

Your hand presses over his, thumb running over his knuckles as you hum softly. “Go back to sleep.” He whispers, voice scratchy and coarse due to lack of use. “What’s the matter?” You stifle a yawn, leaning your back against his chest. “It’s nothing, hon. Just rest, yeah? You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” Alex kisses behind your ear, turning his hand to thread his fingers between yours. You hum again, rolling over in his arms, letting your own arms curl around his middle as you bury your head under his chin. “You can always talk to me, baby. We’re in this together.” You croon, kissing his collarbone so gently he barely felt it. “I know, I just want you to rest for now. I know you’ve been stressed. It’s not easy having a crippled boyfriend.” Alex laughs, it’s strained.

You frown. “You’re not an inconvenience, so don’t even try that all that talk with me.” You scold, softly hitting his back. “Sorry.” Alex exhales; as tired as he is, he doesn’t want to close his eyes. “We’re in this together, baby. I promised you i’d always be here.” You let your hand move from his back, slowly massaging his tricep, just under his elbow. “I know, honey. I… I’m really thankful, for you… for the team. This hasn’t been easy. I can still feel my leg sometimes- it throws me off.” Alex finally closes his eyes, taking a small breath. “I know it’s not easy, love. But you’re strong, you’ve been doing so well at adjusting. You can do this.” You assure him, moving your head to press a kiss to his upper lip. Alex immediately chases you as you pull away, kissing you properly. “Thank you, baby.” He mutters, hand rubbing soft circles over your hip. “Of course..! I’ll always be here for support.” You coo, nose brushing against his gently. “Whether it’s in the middle of the night, in public or private; or even if you call me on the job. I’ll never abandon you.”

Alex smiles, warmth collected in his chest. “I love you, hon. You mean the world to me.” His voice rumbles a little in his chest due to the low volume, you hum softly in return. “I love you too, Alex.” You respond, kissing him again. “Are you going to try and sleep?” You ask, hand moving from his arm to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing against his cheekbone as your other fingers massage his jaw. Alex exhales softly, loving how your fingertips feel against his face. “I dunno, doll.” He mumbles. “That’s okay, baby. We can have some hot chocolate and maybe put on a movie?” You suggest, pulling away from his embrace as you sit up. “You need rest, baby.” He reminds you with a frown. It’s true, you were exhausted, but caring for your boyfriend in a hard time was your number one priority.

“It’s fine, hon. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or upset.” You get up, pulling one of Alex’s shirts up over your head. Alex sits up, watching you in the dim light that seeped through the curtains. He knows he can’t say anything to convince you to get back into bed, watching as you saunter from the bedroom, turning on the hall light as you went. Shaking his head, Alex leans over, grasping his crutches. Slowly moving his leg over the bed, his foot hits the floor- he almost feels sick as his stump hangs off the bed. Taking a deep breath, Alex stands, leaning his weight upon the crutches. It was certainly difficult- he was embarrassed to be in public as he ambled so slowly beside you, yet you’d only smile patiently as you held open doors and rested a comforting hand upon his back. He didn’t deserve you.

Slowly, he moves his crutches forward before taking another step, then another, then another. It’s a very slow process, but he’s getting better at it. The kitchen light is on, and Alex takes a soft breath. The small apartment you two lived in felt like a massive mansion due to how long it would take Alex to get room to room. As he steps forward, his foot slips, back hitting the floor with a harsh thud as his crutches clutter to the ground. With a defeated sigh, Alex tries to blink away tears- he felt useless. “Baby, are you alright?!” You stress, kneeling beside him, hand gently touching his head. “Yeah- sorry… just slipped is all.” Alex sighs, staring at the ceiling above. “Oh, Alex…” you whisper, wiping the corners of his eyes gently. “I’m sorry.” He responds on instinct- he’d been doing that a lot recently. “Don’t be. Come on, let’s get you up.” Slowly, you help Alex up, having him lean upon the wall as you grab one of his crutches. “Lean on this,” you hand him the crutch, letting him slowly lean his weight upon it as you retrieve the other.

“I feel like such a burden.” Alex huffs out a bitter laugh, watching you frown. “No, you’re not. Not to me.” You kiss his cheek, resting a hand upon his back as he slowly tries walking again. Slowly, he finally eases himself onto the couch, sighing softly. “Stay right here, hon. I’ll finish making our drinks.” Leaning down, you kiss his cheeks, cradling his head for a second before pulling away. Alex slumps into the cushions with defeat. He missed going on runs, it was one of his favourite things to do in the mornings, but now he could barely walk to the kitchen without needing you to help him. “How pathetic…” he muses bitterly, glaring at the stump where his full leg once was. “So fucking stupid- why did I let this happen?” Clenching his right fist, Alex takes a deep breath- slowly trying to release the guilt from his chest.

“Alex, baby. Are you alright?” You ask, sitting beside him as you hand him a freshly hot mug. “Yeah, m’fine.” He breathes out, hand tangling into yours as you rest your mug upon your thigh, grabbing the tv remote. “What do you feel like watching?” You ask, head resting against his shoulder. “I don’t mind, baby. You choose.” Alex responds, closing his eyes. He’s back in that damn place again, jaw clenched- head spinning, Farah is there, helping him- trying to bring him back to consciousness. He can feel his leg, it hurts- “Alex.” You pat his shoulder a little, he opens his eyes. He’s on the couch with you, your eyes are worried. “Are you okay?” You ask softly, hand lingering upon his shoulder, thumb smoothing his creased shirt as he breathes. “Yeah. I’m all good, baby. Just… remembering things.” He responds, blinking a few times. “Try to focus on the tv, baby. Just relax.” You kiss his jaw softly, ignoring how his beard scratches your face as you settle against him. Alex throws a spare arm around your shoulders, squeezing you close as his other hand holds his mug, resting it upon the thigh of his mostly missing leg.

As Alex sits in thought, mostly thoughts full of self deprecating words and loathing himself, he’s brought back by you; you’re just shuffling to get a little more comfortable, but it alerts him of his surroundings again. He’s in home, he can see you, feel you, smell the jasmine incense you’re always burning throughout the day as you adored the smell, as well as insisting that it promoted happiness and would help Alex relax. Alex exhales, it’s slow- soothing. Taking a sip of his hot chocolate, he watches the old sitcom rerun you had found on one of the channels, relishing the comfort of a laugh track.

[creative-crybaby]

Birds of a Feather (Flock Together)

PAIRING: yan!timeskip!Kageyama Tobio x fem!reader

GENRE: smut | dark content (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: yandere themes, toxic friendship, nipple play, light manhandling, semi-public sex, creampie

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 6.6k

SUMMARY: What was supposed to be a helping hand became an unhealthy relationship when Kageyama mistakes your kindness for something more. All characters are 18+

@creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

Now that you think about it, you’ve always been too nice for your own good. 

Not that it’s your fault. Your parents raised you that way; show kindness to others whenever the opportunity presented itself. The limit of knowing when to stop never came up, opting to believe that your positive behaviour would be contagious. Wishful thinking, of course. You don’t blame your parents for those drawbacks—their boundless optimism, perhaps, but that’s all. 

You wished reality showed some mercy when slapping you across the face. Sooner, too, maybe. 

When you especially wished for a backbone, you were in your first year of high school, standing before your anxious friend after offering your help. You know her pretty well, having gone to the same middle school; your brain saw no reason to process possible consequences. (Not like you could ever predict your current outcome, anyway.) If anything, the muscle was too busy thinking about how the blonde’s spine would break eventually. No ill feelings behind the idea, but it doesn’t stop your brows from furrowing in guilt. 

You worried for Yachi, that’s all. And with her bent over at a 90° angle before you, a position you both seem familiar with, you couldn’t help but sigh. 

“Hey,” you began softly. The sheepish blonde didn’t budge, and it wasn’t until you said her name a bit louder did she tilt her head to peer up at you. “It’s no problem, okay? I’d be happy to help. Besides,” you quipped with a smile for good measure, and your classmate rose from her deep bow, though kept her position so you remained above her, “this could look good on a resumé, no?”

By now, Yachi’s posture returned to normal as she offered a nervous chuckle. “I guess you’re right. It’s just that those two can be a handful sometimes, especially with each other. I don’t want to put any stress on you.”

Your arms crossed as you arched a brow, considering the new volleyball manager’s words. “Then, how about I take care of one of them and you keep the other? It’ll be easier to help if you focus on one person’s struggles, and that way they won’t bicker all the time.” A small smile graced her lips as she pondered your idea, and you leaned forward curiously. “You make them sound like an old married couple. There’s no way they’re that bad, are they?”

Yachi’s eyes widened ever so slightly before she frantically shook her hands in front of her. 

“No, no, no!” she insisted, voice raising a bit more than probably intended. A few classmates paused their conversations to glance at you two; you waved them off apologetically. “I don’t mean to make them sound terrible or anything! It’s just that they care so much about their club that,” she paused, searching for the right words, “they can’t seem to focus on anything else.”

You hummed, head tilting in thought. A valid concern, but it was a drawback most teens had with studying. Not that you needed to remind Yachi: with keeping up with a team where she somewhat understands the sport, tutoring her teammates and keeping up with her schoolwork, stating the obvious may not put her at ease.

Instead, you grinned reassuringly, and light pink dusted across the blonde’s cheeks. “Nothing I can’t handle. I got this.”

It didn’t take long to find your tutee upon entering Class 1-3. Based on Yachi’s description, you were sure you’d seen him a few times in the hallway, a scowl seemingly stuck on his face. That expression remained as he stared at whatever was in his notebook. And with other students in the room tiptoeing as they passed his desk, you were even more sure that was who you were looking for. 

“Kageyama.” Despite your voice’s volume as you attempted to gain his attention, your tone carried its usual gentleness. It did the trick, his frown softening as his brows lowered to a neutral expression. Not as intimidating as his previous look, but you understood where Yachi’s hesitance came from as she tried to describe him. 

“You’re Yachi’s friend?” It sounded more like a statement than a question, but you nodded. He hummed. “What’s your name again?”

You are–were–kind, not a saint. The question irked you, having put effort into knowing who he is and how he worked to help him raise his grades. He can’t bother to remember your name? Surely, Yachi gave it to him.

There’s no need to get mad, you remembered. Reminded. Wired. It was just introductions; give him a chance. Give him as many as he’ll need to open up in his own way. Yachi said he wasn’t the best at communication. He’s trying. You were both trying.

You gave him your name with a smile.

The first lesson had more to do with diving deeper into his brain than helping him study. With only a summarized description to go by, you needed more information. 

Kageyama understood onomatopoeias better than imagery. Tone flew over his head while clear instructions prepared him for the journey ahead. Studying English and Japanese had their wins and losses. (Mostly the latter, though some battles must be lost to win the war.)

The next couple of sessions weren’t any different. You wondered if the environment distracted the setter, and while it didn’t appear that way, you suggested meeting up at the library. A minor improvement, though his brain’s wiring still wasn’t completely translated to you. 

Whenever you and Yachi sat together for lunch to update each other on the tutoring, you tossed in some enthusiasm in your tone as you promised her you were getting there. Following up was a back-and-forth of the blonde insisting that you could back out of the deal whenever and you assuring her that everything was going smoothly. (Can’t say “fine.” No one believes in fine anymore.)

Now, you observed the twitch of Kageyama’s eye as he glared at the graphs, angles and equations in his notebook. You didn’t blame him: not when you were slowly running out of methods to help him. 

As time passed, so did his patience. The ravenette slammed his notebook onto his desk with a groan, hands flying to slap his face, making you jump in your seat across from him. Other students flinched as they turned to face the commotion, whispering to one another before trying to look away. 

“This is a waste of my time,” Kageyama muttered. 

That makes two of us, a fleeting thought grumbled. You swatted it away, ignoring the tightening of your chest.

His glare trailed toward the window to his left, muttering about how he could be improving his technique—or rather, something more about a certain pipsqueak needing to work on his spikes. 

You hummed. “Tell me about volleyball.”

His gaze snapped to you, brows still furrowed, though curiosity replaced the aggression in his eyes. “What about it?”

“Whatever you want,” you shrugged, placing your pencil on the desk. “I only really know the basics of the sport, but there’s no use stressing yourself out over something you’re stuck on. Consider this a little break.”

A slight pout formed on his lips, either from hesitation or pondering where to begin. 

Kageyama lived and breathed volleyball. Not his words verbatim, but his rambling told you as such. He knew his strengths and his weaknesses (even if he’d rather not discuss them), and his irritation toward his teammate sounded like complaints on the surface. Still, it came from high expectations and confidence in the ginger’s potential, and it wasn’t until he rambled on about A passes and C passes did a light flick in your brain. 

“There it is!” you exclaimed, a grin tugging the corners of your lips. You slid the notebook closer to the setter. “Try what you were just explaining to me and add it into these questions.”

It took him a few seconds to process the order, his head tilting to the side as that pout returned. A cute look on him, but that wasn’t relevant then, nor now. 

“What, my passes?” Kageyama blinked, and it seemed to click. 

You nodded. “You’re so precise with your sets. Just apply all the knowledge to these situations. It may not be exactly the same thing, but it’s possible.”

Kageyama looked at you for a bit before returning his attention to his notebook, taking his time looking over the written words before skating his pencil across the paper. You figured Yachi was exaggerating when she told you about his passion for the sport, but that assumption went out the window soon enough. But weaknesses can be strengths if you view them from a different angle, and soon the setter’s distraction became his motivation.

Not all the questions he answered were correct, but the improvement was impossible to miss. You beamed, praising him for finding his way. Despite his resting face, Kageyama’s eyes shined from the encouragement, his posture straightening ever so slightly. The baby pink dusting his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you, either, and you had to refrain from cooing. Holding back a chuckle as he stammered an invitation to his team’s next practice match wasn’t possible, and you agreed should he continue to work hard.

The study session ended early, with you wishing the ravenette good luck at practice and his upcoming quiz. You slouched while walking in the opposite direction, pride washing over you like a warm shower. An accomplishment, a job well done. Completed.

You remembered thinking how you could only go uphill from there, academically speaking. What else was there? Aside from volleyball, there wouldn’t be anything else to worry about, and you weren’t even responsible for that department. All you could do was observe the sport and those who play it, learning bit by bit as you cheered for your school’s volleyball club. 

You didn’t know the opposing team or their capabilities, though you could only assume they were a challenge. Yachi sat beside you, scribbling notes and occasionally explaining whatever she learned herself. 

“I heard you found a way to help Kageyama,” she said between sets. “How’d that go?”

As if he heard you, the setter trailed his gaze toward you two, giving you a curt nod before drinking from his water bottle. You returned a small smile before giving your attention to your blonde friend.

“Figured things out a few sessions in,” you responded as the remnants of pride from that day of discovery still swirling in your chest. “He should get the hang of it soon enough. I’m sure getting to stay in this club is more than enough motivation for him.”

Yachi perked up at the news. “That’s great! Thanks again for helping out. I owe you bigtime.”

“Don’t say that.” You shook your head with a giggle. “How’s your tutoring process coming along?”

Movement teased the corner of your eye, but the shriek that echoed throughout the gym was impossible to ignore. Your attention went to the source, and the new manager almost dropped her notebook at the sound.

Kageyama held a death grip on a ginger teammate–Hinata’s–hair, roughly tugging the locks as he glared at the shorter teen. The latter continued to beg, though aside from who you could only assume to be the team captain, no one paid them any mind. As the senior student handled the situation, the setter caught your gaze. His glare faltered, but his frown didn’t disappear as he seemingly analyzed your expression. He walked away with a huff, and soon enough, the second set began.

It was normal, apparently. You got to interact with a few of the other teammates, one of which–Tanaka, if you remembered correctly–barked out a laugh as he assured that Kageyama and Hinata fought like an old married couple all the time. You weren’t sure what kind of elders he’s been around, but so long as the explanation put you at ease, you’d take it. 

You eventually got used to the random quarrels as well. A deal was made between the setter and you that you’d see his games should he continue to work hard academically. Or rather, he’d let you know when his upcoming practice matches would be like you’d already planned on showing up. Not that it bothered you; it was probably his way of connecting with you outside of tutoring, and with your first impressions of him, you assumed making friends wasn’t his forte.

The only downside is that you also had your own club to go to. The boys’ volleyball team didn’t have practice matches too often, so you had yet to miss any, at most showing up a bit late as you’d wrap up your club’s meeting for the day. You’d catch Kageyama with his usual frown until he found you’d shown up, and his expression would soften as he straightened his posture. Having already been in the game, he couldn’t say anything about your tardiness, so you’d sneak to the balcony and observe from above, cheering on a little harder to make up for it. After the game, he’d approach you with a pout, though he’d only discuss the match with you.

It was late fall when you first missed a match. Kageyama informed you a few days prior, as you helped him with Modern Japanese, that a practice game would partake. You thought nothing of it until that day arrived, and you had yet to dismount your seat in your own clubroom. The calligraphy club was pretty straightforward, though that day, there was a meeting, one you barely recalled as your eyes continuously glanced at the clock. Along with cleaning up the classroom, you lost more time than expected, and rushing to the gymnasium did little to fix the issue. 

The game was in its second set by the time you arrived. The first thing you noticed upon entering the gym was the starting setter’s head whipping toward your direction. His alertness subsided, but his gaze stayed on you for a few seconds too many before he served the ball. You assumed things would go as usual, with you sneaking to your designated spot and watching the match until it was over. 

It wasn’t until the opponents requested a time-out did you discover how wrong you were. While the other boys went to fetch water and towels, Kageyama stomped over to you, his sweat-slicked bangs hovering over his eyes in a way that made his glare all the more intimidating.

“Where were you?” His voice was of normal volume, but his tone matched his furious expression perfectly. Your body froze.

“I had this thing,” you stammered. “My club meeting took longer than I thought, and—”

“I was waiting for you,” he seethed, stepping closer. “I even asked Coach to wait a bit so you could make it. I shouldn’t even have to make excuses for tardiness. You couldn’t have told your club that you had places to be?”

Your mouth went dry as he got louder, and by now, most of his teammates were watching the commotion. You’ve seen him frustrated, sure, angry on bad days, too. At least he’d take it out on his homework. 

Still, your habit of patience was second nature, even when it wasn’t called for. “I’m sorry—”

“Kageyama.” Daichi was behind the ravenette with a hand on his shoulder before you could further explain yourself. His tone was stern, sharp even, but nowhere near as intimidating as what you received. A warning. “Go take a breather, why don’t you?”

The setter’s gaze stayed on you a little longer than necessary. He scoffed before walking away, his back facing you as he sipped from his water bottle. You politely dismissed the captain’s apology on his junior’s behalf, assuring him you were all right.

“His Majesty’s probably just upset his girlfriend couldn’t watch him show off,” you heard Tsukishima mutter to Yamaguchi. You weren’t sure if he intended for you to catch his comment, but he wasn’t exactly out of earshot, only a couple of feet away. Regardless, you didn’t bother responding. It didn’t take long for everyone else to leave the little incident in the past, and the tall blonde’s snarky words lingered in your brain for the remainder of the match.

No one else showed up to watch these games. You were there for the tournaments, too; aside from Tanaka’s older sister and a few of the coach’s old friends, the boys’ volleyball club didn’t have much moral support. Much less Kageyama, from what you could tell. You’ve heard about his behaviour back in middle school from Hinata and Tsukishima, the latter with taunts, and the new fragments of information added pieces to the puzzle. 

Kageyama was trying. He didn’t always succeed, but it didn’t stop him from attempting to steer away from the tyrannical path he was heading. You’ve seen him reach for Tanaka’s high-fives, albeit with a confused expression, but it didn’t falter his senior’s enthusiasm. His compliments (if you could even call them that) came out as awkward and forced when he gave them to Hinata after the ginger won a point, and he wasn’t afraid to ask Azumane if he needed to adjust his sets to suit the Ace. 

Maybe you were supposed to be his tutor and nothing more. Maybe it would’ve been better that way. But with very little assistance and even lesser options, Kageyama might have considered your listening to his ramblings as a sign of friendship. You supported him in staying on the team, and now you’re watching him flourish as a result. That’s what friends do—it was only fair for him to ask you to stay as such. You’d ask yourself why not indulge, though you were probably in too deep to call it that anymore.

The following morning, you find Kageyama waiting by the school entrance, two milk cartons in each hand and a strained apology on the tip of his tongue. You smiled, the two of you sipping on your refreshments as you waited for the first bell to ring.

Your calligraphy club disbanded at the beginning of your second year. You weren’t all that surprised at the time: there were barely enough students for it to exist in the first place. Why certain members decided to leave was beyond you, but you saw no point in pushing them to stay if they didn’t want to. Still, you missed your club: you were left to your own devices, the black ink dancing across paper lulling you to a place of comfort.

It was Yachi who suggested you joined the boys’ volleyball club as another manager. She figured you learned some things from Kageyama here and there while tutoring him, and she has no problem helping you catch up. 

“Besides,” the blonde smiled, handing you the sign-up sheet, “it’s pretty lonely now that Shimizu graduated. It’d be nice to have a friend around.” You take the paper from her, staring at it somewhat skeptically. You didn’t voice your hesitance, and after a few seconds of silence, your friend added, “I’m sure the others will be happy to have you around, too.”

With how often you dropped by to watch the team practice and compete, the club members have grown to know you. It didn’t take too long for you to warm up to them, too, usually sitting with Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita and having them explain the gameplay whenever you were lost. Otherwise, it was mainly Kageyama who kept you to himself either because you had time to assist him in his studies or simply because he wanted your attention. 

You later found out it was his idea to have you join the team as another manager, and Yachi agreed immediately. Who would complain about that? Another sweet and pretty girl to help and cheer them on was a dream come true for most. You were the only one that had yet to vocalize content, and you handed in the application sheet soon after receiving it. 

Even with the progress, you still tutored Kageyama. Seeing him more often after classes only gave you more opportunity to support him, especially when Coach Ukai would remind certain members to keep their grades up. 

Not that any of this bothered the setter. He had no problem having you continue helping him with his schoolwork. He’d listen to your instructions, try out new learning techniques whenever he struggled on a particular unit and remained patient (by his standards, anyway) with you when things didn’t work out.

You had no issue continuing your support. You knew Kageyama was trying his best, even when his brain could only focus on volleyball, and you figured you could still learn more about how he interacted with others as he tried to come out of his shell. 

His one-track mind came to a disadvantage at times. When Hinata suggested studying as a group, Kageyama quickly shut the idea down. He’d sometimes go on tangents about strategies and new techniques for the sport while you tried to help him. Tanaka and Nishinoya would quip that the setter had a crush on you and didn’t know how to express it, though you knew better than to take those two seriously. Kageyama told you that becoming a manager would be more suitable for your future than your previous club. He’s grown used to your routine of getting all your attention for tutoring, and having others there would throw him off his game. As for his rants, he’s merely passionate about the sport—you don’t need a reminder.

So, you became a manager for the boys’ volleyball club, continued your one-on-one tutoring sessions and instructed him to only speak of team strategies in English as practice. And you do so until you graduate. 

It’s where the connection between you and Kageyama seemingly disappeared, set ablaze before dwindling into disintegration. He didn’t even give you the time to say goodbye to your friends outside the club before asking them if he could steal you away. (It was more of a declaration—the questioning tone was a mere formality.)

“Ready to take your volleyball career to the next level?” You didn’t know what else to say: not after the abrupt isolation. He’s brought you one of the many hidden corners the school had to offer, away from all the other graduates and their loved ones. Sakura petals fluttered through their descent, softening an otherwise overwhelming atmosphere full of completed chapters and new beginnings. You read manga: it felt like prince charming would swoop in with a confession, second gakuran button in hand. Having blueberry eyes boring into your awaiting frame in such an environment should make the butterflies in your stomach perform their very own acrobatics number, the anticipation eating you from the inside out. And it did, the churning in your belly boiling your face as you tried to meet his gaze. Kageyama’s resting face was always a disadvantage regarding his approachability, but with three years of getting to know him under your belt, you still felt a ghost’s kisses up your spine. 

“Obviously,” he answered. You would have chuckled at the comment in your first year of high school. But even the smile you’ve managed to muster no longer seemed convincing. Part of you wondered if you could find your friends once more to keep in touch before you all left. “I should be asking you that, though.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, yet you kept the corners of your lips upwards. “I don’t know if being a manager for a volleyball team counts as a volleyball career.”

Kageyama didn’t laugh at your quip. You didn’t expect him to, but his response caught you off-guard.

“When will you be joining me?”

Your tiring performance of halo and white wings evaporated at his question, brows further creasing as your smile dropped. A clear indication of confusion, though a hint of offence found its way into the mix. 

“What are you talking about?” Your body instinctively inched closer to your corner. The setter noticed. 

“One of the biggest reasons I’ve managed to get as far as I am with volleyball is because of you,” he stated. “From helping me keep my grades up to becoming manager. I can grow to adjust to any team I become a part of, but I need someone who gets me to be by my side if I want to continue to prosper in my career.” 

The butterflies once performing in your belly dropped dead before they had the chance to bow. The love confession you dismissively thought of boomed with laughter as it slapped you across the back. Your lungs were empty as your brain progressed his words, your face slowly morphing from one expression to another. 

Did you do this?

“Kageyama,” you began, barely knowing where to go without a map, “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but that’s not the path I’m taking.” His resting face grew sour. You forced yourself to continue. “I’m flattered, but really, you did most of the work. I just gave you a little push.” Kind words didn’t weaken the blow—his staredown didn’t falter. “I have a life outside of the sport. I’m no prodigy. I don’t work anywhere near as hard as you do. I don’t feel the same about volleyball the way you do—”

“Bullshit.”

The snap from harsh lips forced yours shut. You shrank back once more, a scolded child fearing further punishment. 

You dared to glance at him. Kegayama was seething, leaning forward with clenched fists and jaw. You didn’t want to peer out to the crowd; had anyone heard him? They either didn’t or were too afraid to jump in. You knew you would be, too. 

“You think some sweet talk is going to make any of this okay?” His voice grew in volume, and you flinched. “You learned past the basics, you understand strategy better than the average player. You’re throwing it all out the window for what? That damn club you were in before had nothing to offer. I can vouch for you if you just follow me.”

There he was: King of the Court. You always thought Tsukishima would exaggerate to gain a reaction, but that title came to be for a reason. You just never thought you’d fall victim to it. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I led you on,” even in a situation like this, your feelings seemed to fall to a second priority, “but I’m telling you now that I don’t love the sport as much as you think I do. It’s not in my future.”

“I showed you opportunity and you throw it back in my face,” he sneered, getting closer. 

“I joined because of Yachi and my old club disbanding,” you defended, voice quivering. “I don’t understand why you’re yelling at me.”

A petal landed on your cheek, and you went to brush it away until you discovered the soft touch was a stray tear. It seemed enough to silence him, if only momentarily, though his glare remained just as deadly.

He wanted to say something; you knew he did. More words of anger, most likely, but he tightened his jaw instead, opting to walk away after giving you a final look of disdain.

You didn’t hear the hopeful and cheerful banter between graduates, nor did you catch Yachi calling your name until she laid a hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your daze. Kageyama lingered in your head for the remainder of that day; no harsh words in particular—mainly the darkening of his blue eyes as his tone became aggressive. Part of you thought you also heard a twinge of betrayal, but after such a whiplash of a confrontation, you weren’t sure you could recall that moment in your state.

Wherever he was during the remainder of graduation, you didn’t see him.

To be more precise, you didn’t see him afterwards, either. With moving to another prefecture for school and time passing by, you eventually put that memory behind you. That isn’t to say it didn’t make your body temperature drop; on the rare occasions Kageyama would be brought up, the daggers his eyes threw your way would flash in your mind. Of course, you saw no reason to voice the issue—you only ever heard about him from Yachi whenever you’d catch up, which isn’t as often as you’d like. From what you know, he’s out of the country, furthering his career like you assumed he would. And while the setter was right about how being manager brought more skills and opportunities, your studies had nothing to do with volleyball. 

Neither does your career.

You never thought you’d set foot in Italy, much less work there after university. Your parents told you that your kindness paid off, much to your irritation. (Was school not already enough of a hassle? And the extracurriculars? The people?)

Even though the conversation was over the phone, you found yourself putting on a smile as you told them about taking the opportunity, your tone hopeful as if you still needed their permission. 

It took you who knows how long to realize you didn’t. And as soon as it hit you, you packed your bags and flew halfway across the world with barely the basics of the Italian language in your brain and newfound perseverance in your heart.

Whatever bits and pieces made you a doormat evaporated into the air as that airplane took off to your new home, and you planned on making what should be the next chapter of your life a completely different book.

Easier said than done, of course.

The last person you’d expect to see at this pub meets your gaze, and your eyes widen from instant recognition. 

Kageyama hasn’t changed all that much. His resting face is hard to miss, the light crease in his brows making him appear far angrier than he is. And with his increase in height and muscle, his intimidation goes up, too. His hair is also somewhat shorter, though that’s all regarding his changes. 

You continue to gawk at him, though his expression remains calm like you two were back in high school and you showed up to one of his games. You should be there.

He’s wearing his jersey, you realize, and grouped up with other men in the same attire. You don’t recognize the team; you haven’t been keeping track of the setter’s career. 

One of his teammates follows his stare, and Kageyama mumbles something before approaching you. You don’t hear what the other man says in return, your attention stuck on your old high school friend. (Can you still call him that? Could you ever have called him that?)

He says your name; your feet plant themselves on the ground. “It’s been a while.”

You blink away the myriad of emotions before nodding. “Still playing volleyball.”

It wasn’t a question, but it doesn’t make you feel any less stupid for bringing it up. Kageyama tilts his head back a bit, motioning to his team with a hum. “Yeah.”

“Can’t say I’m all that surprised,” you try to quip, your fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. Even if the ravenette’s height wasn’t a prominent factor, he’d still tower over you with how his eyes bore into your frame.“Last I heard, you joined Schweiden Adlers.”

His frown deepens. “I’m part of Ali Roma now.”

You bite your lip, your face growing warm. Kageyama appears offended, what with how he slightly tilts his head back for his eyes to look down on you. His brows furrow more, and you’re surprised you still remember his quirks even after all these years.

“An Italian team? Congratulations!” You don’t mention living in the same country, working on the same soil where he now lives and breathes his beloved sport. In fact, you don’t say anything for a little too long, and your eyes glance behind him. “Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your team. It was nice seeing—”

“Don’t worry about them,” he says, moving towards you. “I plan on catching up with you. They’ll understand.”

He’s making you approach a corner booth, and neither your feet nor your voice can protest. Even once you’ve sat down, all you do is shift in your seat, seemingly never comfortable. And whatever you originally planned on ordering is replaced with a glass of water. If Kageyama noticed, he doesn’t comment. He sips his beer occasionally; you’re halfway with your drink in a minute. 

“So,” you hum, “you like your new team?”

The setter looks at you for a few seconds before responding. “Yeah. Full of great players.”

He sounds more like he’s being interviewed than catching up with someone from high school. You try not to deadpan at his short answer. Your habit comes back crawling, keeping up performances and your back straight, head forward and heart thumping.

Your glass is almost empty when Kageyama speaks once more. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in Italy?”

He didn’t sound offended or hurt. The question came out as curious and casual like you two were going on about your day. But you know that’s not what’s happening, and his eerie calmness makes you nearly choke on your drink.

“We kinda lost touch,” you answer steadily, briefly. “It was a pretty quick decision, too. Only a handful of people knew.”

Not a complete lie, but you consider it necessary for now.

“Had to find out from Yachi that you were here last time I played in Japan,” the setter grunts, eyes glued to his drink. Your hold on your glass tightens at his words as your head snaps up to face him, a mix of confusion and a twinge of fear making your expression. You don’t get to ask him anything, not that you’re sure you can, and he continues. “Kind of a hassle not being able to reconnect with you whenever I had time back home. Switching teams was a good call, especially with my previous contract coming to an end. And it’s not like I wouldn’t have made it into Ali Roma anyway. I guess you leaving was a blessing in disguise.”

Whatever he says afterwards, if anything, drowns out as you stare past his shoulder, and your stomach drops. The strength you gained found its cowardice as the old you that disappeared into the clouds crashes down on you like a rainstorm, soaking you to the bone and making you shiver.

You rise from your seat a little too abruptly for your liking. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Also not a complete lie, but who’s keeping track? Not a drop of alcohol touched your tongue, yet you stumble down the hall towards the sign with a female stick figure in a dress and clumsily push the door below it open. You’re unsure if you should hunch over the toilet or splash water on your face, but you aren’t rewarded with a choice, nor the time, to make it.

A knock rinses the blood out of your ears, and you can hear the cheerful and far-from-sober banter back in the bar.

“Occupied,” you stammer hurriedly, carrying yourself to the sink. The creak of the door opening has you inhaling sharply, and who you see in the reflection keeps the air in your lungs.

Kageyama stands a couple of meters from you, his brows lightly furrowed. “Why do you keep doing that?”

You don’t answer him. The ravenette takes a step forward. You flinch.

“I was right, you know,” he begins, strangely calm. “That old club of yours–the calligraphy one–it was a waste of time.” His movements are slow as he approaches you. “It’s a good thing everyone left. Even if your new job has nothing to do with volleyball, your manager position definitely brought you to where you are now.” As vague as he may be, you can’t help but move back every time he gets closer, your fist tightening near your chest. “It would’ve been better if you’d just joined me, though.”

Your back hits the wall, and you don’t register what happens afterwards as your jumbled thoughts decipher possibility after possibility over the athlete’s implications. You don’t realize he’s kissing you or grabbing hold of your face to make you return the forced affection. You’re elsewhere as he lifts your top over your breasts and your skirt past your hips. Your mind is groggy as he gropes you through your bra, soon sliding past the material to tweak your nipples. 

It isn’t until his hand slides down your body and into your panties do you awake to a nightmare. 

Your front presses up against the tile wall; you don’t recall when he turned you around, the dead end’s coolness painting goosebumps all over your body and juxtaposing the warm fresh tears cascading down your squished cheek. Kageyama’s fingers languidly glide across your lower lips before he clicks his tongue. You can hear the irritation; you always could.

Not as wet as he’d like you to be. But the setter only has so much patience. He’s human, after all. He’s human.

The thought barely registers when you hear a faint zipping sound behind you, and suddenly his hard-on presses into the small of your back. Your breathing picks up as he spreads your legs with little effort, further pushing you into the wall before doing the same with your panties, revealing your entrance to him.

He doesn’t grace you with sweet nothings and mercy: just a blob of spit in his hand to pump his cock followed by heavy panting. And when he finally enters, the silence deafens you as he chokes on a gasp. 

That’s the moment that felt never-ending; he went in and never stopped, it seems, dragging himself into your insides until he was everywhere. He is everywhere. He is inside and behind and looming and crushing.

The nicest he was to you was when he waited to let you adjust, and you hate yourself for being the sweet little high school girl who tried to see the best in people. He doesn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve this.

Kageyama makes his first few strokes slow, but they’re still deep enough to have you gritting your teeth. It isn’t long until he gasps your name and picks up speed. 

“All this way,” he rasps in your ear, almost masking the slapping noises his hips would make when colliding with your ass. “All this way to another part of the world, joining a new team, starting over and getting better, all to see you again.” You don’t hear him when he speaks, nor as he grunts extra loudly as you tighten around him. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

A large hand slides back into your bra, squeezing your breast, calloused fingers tugging at the hardened bud, while the other one further shoves your panties aside to hastily rub your clit. The dry friction does little to soothe you, and with his lack of patience, the nub receives no pattern except whatever it's offered. Still, the added stimulation makes you tighten and the ravenette more restless. Even in your position, he finds a way to slam his lips against yours again. His tongue makes its way into your cavern as his thrusts get sloppier. You can’t breathe.

Not when he pulls away from the kiss. 

Not when his hips sputter as hot ropes paint your insides white. 

And certainly not when your high follows soon after.

It wasn’t strong, and it didn’t last long, but the shame that creeps into your stomach lasts an eternity. 

Your heavy breathing syncs with his as everything finally settles into your slowly-sobering mind. Kageyama’s still inside you, his hot breath fanning the back of your neck as his hands find your wrists to grab hold of. 

You’re in high school all over again. His actions have evolved to more dangerous heights, but you’re back in that gymnasium watching him practice. Even when he finally pulls out, even when he pulls you close, even when he snuggles into the junction of your shoulder. 

Kageyama hasn’t changed one bit.

@creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

[fluffytriceratops]

→ryūnosuke tanaka - just friends←

notes: HAHAHAHAHA PAIN- [pre time skip]. This was a request by one of my lovely friends @shrimpppy . I hope you guys enjoy it! This imagine has been in the works for a while and I have more on the back burner waiting to be finished as well.

(If you want me to tag you in my future haikyuu x reader stuff, feel free to lemme know and I’ll tag you!)

I hope you all have a lovely day/night!!

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

She took in a wobbly breath, her bottom lip quivering as she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. Trying her hardest to slow her tears.

She hated love. Absolutely loathed it.

All it brought along was pain and misery. There was no such thing as a fairytale romance. No such thing as love at first sight. No such thing as soulmates. It was just an aching, sinking feeling in her chest. A black hole swallowing her completely.

Love was chaos.

And she never wanted to feel it again.

—

"What are you doing?" He asked in confusion, staring down at the girl in front of him.

Y/n was hanging upside down off her couch, lips pursed in a pout and eyebrows drawn together. "Looking for a new perspective." She hummed simply.

Tanaka bobbed his head with a nod, as if he understood what she was talking about. "Ahh, I see. Yeah that makes perfect sense."

Y/n snorted at his mocking tone, "If you're going to be snippy about it, you can leave."

Ryū huffed, "You're the one who invited me, dumbass." He took a spot on the couch next to her, putting his legs up on the back of it and hanging down much like she was.

She simply responded by sticking her tongue out at him. Tanaka copied her.

"What exactly are you trying to gain a new perspective of?"

Y/n's head turned towards him and she stared at him for a moment. Taking in the sight of her best friend. Ryū was beautiful. At least, she thought so. For a bald headed weirdo. Yes, he would argue that he was not bald and in fact buzzed, but she'd simply shrug and say they were the same thing - if only to mess with him further.

His eyes were mesmerizing. Dark and stormy. Reminding her of the sea. She could hear the waves crashing against the shore. His hands, large and calloused, yet warm. Strong. Comforting. His smile, toothy and wide. As bright as the sun. How she adored his smile.

As she gazed at him, she pondered whether or not she should be honest with him.

"Just..." she started, getting lost in his eyes as he watched her. Waiting patiently for a reply. "Life."

And there it was. That smile. Taking up half of his face as he let out a boisterous and contagious laugh.

"You're such a dork, y'know that?"

Y/n's heart squeezed at the sight before her and she let out a chuckle of her own. Reaching over to shove at Ryūnosuke playfully. "Shut up, jack ass."

—

Y/n had been best friends with Ryūnosuke for as long as she could remember. They were neighbors and his older sister often babysat her as a kid. Of course, Ryū would tag along on occasion, as they were around the same age. (She was 9 months younger, but she didn't count that-)

They didn't hit it off instantly. In fact, Y/n thought Ryū to be an impulsive and pigheaded oaf half the time. And Ryū thought her to be a conceded and pristine little brat. But over time they started to like each other more and more.

Now they were practically inseparable.

Tanaka's parents weren't around much, and so he came over a lot. All the time, actually. And because his sister worked as hard as she did, it was usually just him and Y/n. And her parents both worked too, so they weren't always home either.

Not that they minded. They liked it being just the two of them. And had developed a close bond because of that. They even had their own traditions. No one else was apart of it, it was just them. Always had been and hopefully always would be.

It wasn't until semi-recently that Y/n had discovered her feelings for Tanaka.

Truth be told, she kind of always knew. But she ignored them. Pretended they were something else. Forced herself to believe otherwise.

It was fear that kept those feelings at bay. Hidden deep within herself. But over time, the things you bottle up have to come out eventually. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't bottle up her feelings forever.

Sooner or later they were bound to erupt.

—

Y/n's hands clutched at her notebook, crinkling some of the paper from the force. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure it was going to explode. Her palms became clammy and she bit down on her lip to stop it from quivering.

She had come to see Tanaka's practice, like she usually did whenever she had the time.

However, this was not what she came here to see. Ryūnosuke fawning all over Kiyoko. It wasn't the first time she had witnessed it, but each time felt like a stab to the chest.

She hated seeing him get so excited over a girl.

A girl that wasn't her.

Envy ran through her veins and no matter how hard she tried to force the nauseating feeling to go away, it never did. Y/n felt stupid. Getting so overworked, so upset, over a guy.

But this wasn't just any guy. It was Ryū.

The same boy who shoved her childhood bullies off the swing sets when they made her cry. The same boy who would carry spiders outside for her, because while she was scared of them she didn't want them to die. The same boy who snuck through her window every time she had a nightmare. The same boy who gave her his umbrella because she didn't have one, and walked home in the rain instead. The same boy who gave her flowers every year on her birthday, her favorite kind too. The same boy who brought her boiled potatoes every day for a week straight because she was sick and wouldn't eat anything else.

This was Ryūnosuke Tanaka, her greatest and grandest friend.

And he was in love with Kiyoko. Not her.

Y/n waited for Tanaka outside the gym like she usually did. They always walked home together.

However, Tanaka was no where in sight.

Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, she chose to wait for him. She busied herself with reading, Y/n always kept a book on her. She had an earbud in as well, playing one of her many playlists in an attempt to further help pass time.

It wasn't until about 45 minutes later that Tanaka actually showed. She snapped her book shut, slipping it away into her bag and doing her best not to show her irritation.

"Hey," she glanced up at him and nodded in greeting. "Hey."

"Sorry I'm a bit late."

She shrugged as if it was nothing. "It's fine. I used the time to catch up on my reading."

"Well at least you got to do that." He teased as the two of them began walking. Y/n rolled her eyes, chancing a glance in his direction. Ryū had his eyes on the sky, his hands were shoved into the pockets of the gray hoodie he was wearing. He hadn't realized she was looking at him, thankfully. He always walked on the side closest to the road, wanting to protect his friends.

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Simply enjoying the sights and each other's company. Like they usually did. Y/n couldn't help but think of earlier. Of the way Ryū's eyes lit up at the sight of Kiyoko. Of how he showed off for her during practice. How his smile, the one that was as bright as the sun, was directed towards her. Was she the reason he was late?

"So," she breathed out, tearing her gaze away from him just as he glanced in her direction. "Is Kiyoko the reason why you were late?" Her tone was teasing, and she grinned at him as if she truly believed there was no way that could be true. As if it was just a joke between two friends.

Tanaka's cheeks warmed at the accusation and he cleared his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Yeah, actually.."

Her smile instantly fell.

"What?"

"We were just talking and I lost track of time. I didn't mean to make you wait so long. But uh, I've been thinking of asking her out."

Y/n blinked, trying her best to wrap her head around this. "Ask her out?" Her chest tightened and her stomach dropped. Ryū had once again returned his gaze to the sky, so he had yet to notice her rigid posture and the frown pulling at her soft lips.

"Yeah. I've had a thing for her for a long time now, and I think.. I think she might like me too. At least, that's what Noya said." He turned to flash a grin in her direction, but it faltered at the broken expression she wore.

"Y/n? Hey, are you okay?"

She felt like a hot iron rod had been shoved down her throat. She nodded, a bit too quickly and did her best to force a smile on her face. "What? Yeah, of course. I'm fine. Just thinking is all... I'm really happy for you, Ryū." Her voice wobbled as she spoke his name and she bit down on her tongue. Praying he wouldn't notice.

Ryūnosuke didn't look convinced, but luckily, he decided against saying anything. At least, for now. "Thanks, Y/n. So uh.. I was hoping you'd help me with something?"

She couldn't speak, tongue thick and heavy. So she only nodded, being unable to do anything else.

"Do you think you could help me ask her out? I mean- I just- want to say all the right stuff, ya know?" His cheeks were pink, pinker than they were before. And he wouldn't meet her gaze. She was thankful for that, at least.

Her eyes stung with tears and at the sight of her house she began to pick up the pace. Tanaka seemed to notice this, and he arched a thick brow in confusion. "Y/n?"

"Yes." She choked out, quickly making her way to the door and keeping her back to him. Throat tight as she fumbled with her keys. "Y-Yeah, I'll help you. Sorry I just uh, I gotta pee so- I'll- I'll see you later-" she didn't give him a chance to respond as she opened the door and quickly shut it behind her.

Y/n's back hit the door and she stood there. Unable to move. Unable to breathe. Slowly her tears began to slip down her cheeks and then she found herself sliding down the door. Hand coming up to press against her mouth, to muffle her cries.

This was silly.

This was stupid.

She couldn't possibly be crying over a boy.

But no matter how hard she willed herself to stop, to force her tears to stop flowing. They only came faster, blurring her vision and restricting her air flow. Her breaths came out in short bursts, gasping as she wailed.

She pulled her knees to her chest, cradling herself in an attempt to give herself some small form of comfort. As she predicted, it didn't really work.

—

Y/n didn't respond to any of his texts that night. Instead replying in the morning and making an excuse of getting distracted by homework.

Tanaka either bought it, or decided against saying anything.

The next few days were filled with her giving her advice on how to ask Kiyoko out. She decided to bite the bullet and just get it done and over with. She was his best friend, after all. This is what a best friend does. She wanted Tanaka to be happy. And if that meant helping him get together with some other girl, then so be it.

Besides, their special tradition was coming up. And at least she got to look forward to that.

Every year, on the anniversary of their friendship, Ryūnosuke and Y/n would get together on her rooftop and watch the sunrise. No matter what day it was, how tired they got, if they had school the next day. It didn't matter. Because this was for them. Just them. It was a special moment for the both of them and they looked forward to it each year.

That wasn't all they did. They'd usually decorate the roof together, make a little area with pillows and blankets where they could sit comfortably. They'd hang a sheet from a wire connecting to some trees for a makeshift screen and use her small projector to watch some of their favorite movies. They'd make snacks together, which usually would end up in a food fight. They'd snuggle up under a blanket and watch the stars, laughing at inside jokes and reminiscing on memories. Tanaka would pretend he knew constellations and would make up random names for them, pointing to bunches of stars as if they were the real deal.

Sure, it wasn't a grand affair but it was fun. And it was special. It was tradition.

Wednesday, 4:37 PM.

ryū <3

hey, i'm gonna be a bit late

i promised kiyoko i'd

take her home

y/n

hey, that's okay thanks

for letting me know

want me wait for you to set

up and make the snacks?

ryū <3

nah thats okay

you can start without me

—

Y/n bit down on her lip in frustration, staring down at her phone in her hand. He didn't want to help set up? He didn't want to help with the snacks?

They've always set up together.

They've always made the snacks together.

It was tradition. It was part of the fun.

Maybe he'd make it in time to still help out a bit?

Y/n stashed her cell away in her pocket before setting off to work. She placed down a blanket on top of the roof and grabbed a few folded ones for them to use when they were up there. She put up some of her fairy lights and then set up some lanterns. The sheet was next, coupled by her laptop and projector. She tossed up some extra pillows for more comfort before getting started on the food.

Cookies, they were a must. They had them every year. Chocolate chip and gingerbread. Hot cocoa was also a must. She prepared an array of different snacks, some which she had gotten earlier in the week for this very night. She had to travel all the way to Tokyo for a few of them. Their favorite bakery was there and held some fan favorites they had each year. The owners knew them by name. They knew exactly what they came for when they came in around this time of year.

This time, Y/n ended up coming alone. It did not go unnoticed. She claimed Tanaka was busy, which he was, trying to seduce Kiyoko. But that didn't make it any harder.

Everything was ready. An hour and a half had passed and Ryū still hadn't shown.

Y/n was just about to call him when she heard a knock on her door. Strange, Ryū never knocked he always just came in but she didn't think much of it and moved to answer the door.

"Well it's about damn time. What took you so long anyway-" she yanked the door open and stopped in her tracks.

Ryū beamed up at her sheepishly, apologetically, and next to him stood Kiyoko.

"Hey, sorry we're late. We got to talking and time just flew by!"

Y/n blinked, hand still on the doorknob, half tempted to slam the door in their faces. "It's.. fine.."

"Did you get everything done in time?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Oh great! Think we can come in? It's fucking freezing out here."

Y/n was silent for a moment, staring at his arm which was thrown over Kiyoko's shoulders.

"Earth to Y/n?"

The door flung open. "Yeah, yeah, come in." She turned her back to them, eyes stinging as she padded her way to the kitchen.

This had to be some fucking joke, right?

He was messing with her, wasn't he?

"Sorry for coming without warning, Tanaka ensured me it was okay." Kiyoko spoke from behind her and Y/n took in a quiet breath before responding.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." She flashed a small smile towards her from over her shoulder, trying to remain polite and civil.

Kiyoko sent a small smile back.

"The food looks great!" Ryū hummed, observing the array set out on the kitchen island. "You outdid yourself this time, Y/n."

Said female could only smile. Not knowing what to say. Part of her still couldn't believe this was real.

The three of them helped bring some of the snacks up to the roof, they had to get there via Y/n's bedroom window. Which she found a bit awkward. Kiyoko had never been to her house before. They weren't very close and while she was a nice girl it just felt strange having her in her room.

Perhaps this was Tanaka's way of getting them to become closer? The girl he liked and his best friend. But if that was the case, why did he have to pick tonight of all times? It was their special night. Their tradition. No one else had ever been involved, had ever been allowed to be involved.

Y/n had just finished grabbing the container of cookies as she made her way to the window. Ryū and Kiyoko were already settled on the rooftop. They had a blanket draped over their shoulders and their hands were connected. She did her best not to stare. They were talking to each other, she had no idea what the conversation was about and honestly she didn't care.

She didn't want to sit next to them while they were cuddling, but she didn't have much of a choice. She did her best not to seem stiff and awkward, but she failed miserably.

They had barley been here five minutes and she already felt like a third wheel.

Y/n decided to start one of the movies, as Tanaka and Kiyoko had been talking for the past several minutes while she just sat there. At least this way she might be able to distract herself from this horrendous night. And perhaps they'd shut the fuck up.

The talking did calm down a little, but Ryū was still very much all over Kiyoko. The sight alone was enough to make Y/n's blood boil. She felt so uncomfortable. And she was angry that he brought her here in the first place. This was their thing. Their special night. Their tradition. Sure, it might not have been very flashy. All they did was sit at home and hang out. But it was their thing. They did it every year. They had never brought along other friends before.

And he hadn't even asked if it was okay first.

Y/n was torn between just letting it go and trying to have a good time, or allowing herself to be mad about it. She wouldn't say anything in front of Kiyoko. That wasn't fair to her. It wasn't like she asked to be here, Tanaka was the one who brought her along and said it was okay. But even then, she didn't want to make him feel bad either. Maybe she was just being stupid.

She was torn from her thoughts at the sound of Kiyoko giggling at something Ryū had said. Y/n glanced over in their direction, being unable to stop herself. He had his arm around her shoulders and was feeding her something. She laughed as she took it from him, shaking her head to herself. Their cheeks were flushed and Y/n felt her stomach drop. She started to stand up and make her way towards her bedroom window.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom real quick," she mumbled out the excuse, and Tanaka nodded in acknowledgment.

Y/n climbed through the window, being careful not to trip as she made her way inside. Like she had said, she went to her bathroom which was connected to her room.

After closing and locking the door behind her, Y/n turned to face her relfection in the mirror. Her eyes were glazed with tears, but she refused to let them fall. She sucked in a shaky breath and turned on the cold water, splashing her face with it.

Why was this so complicated? She should just suck it up and be happy for him.

There was nothing she could do about it now. Her feelings would have to be bottled up and forgotten.

No matter how hard it may be.

Y/n let out a sigh and dabbed her face dry with a towel. "I can't wait for this shit to be over..."

As she made her way back into her room, she paused in front of her window. Freezing in place at the sight before her.

Her hands latched onto each other. Gripping so tightly they shook. Her eyes were wide and glossy, and she bit down on her lip to stop it from trembling.

Kiyoko and Tanaka were kissing. One of his massive paws was cupping the side of her face and the other sat on her waist. One of her hands cupped the back of his neck while the other sat atop his shoulder.

That was the final straw.

Y/n yanked the window open, causing Kiyoko to jump and pull away from Tanaka at the sound. She closed the laptop and started tossing things inside her room.

"Y/n, what-"

"You guys have to leave."

Ryū arched a brow in confusion. "What, why?"

She shook her head, claiming she'd get the rest later and threw their jackets at them. Tanaka caught them easily. "Don't worry about cleaning up, I can do it." Y/n said, waving Kiyoko off as she reached to help with a food platter.

The two shared a look before following Y/n inside. She started carrying the food in, quickly putting them on the kitchen island. Before she could slip past them to grab the rest, Tanaka reached over and grabbed her arm. Holding her firmly in place. "Y/n, stop. What's goin' on?"

Y/n looked up at him, biting the inside of her cheek to contain herself. "It's nothing-"

"Well, clearly it isn't. We've barley been here an hour-"

"My cat is sick!" She blurted. Being unable to come up with a better excuse.

Ryū's eyebrows furrowed. "Toji? He looked fine earlier-"

"He's sick. He was throwing up when I came in." She sputtered, sticking to it and hoping Toji was hiding somewhere- that was until she saw Toji brushing up against Tanaka's leg. He sent her a look.

"He seems fine to me."

Kiyoko bent down and gave him a scritch, the feline let out a little mew. Purring as she pet him.

Y/n's face paled and she quickly yanked herself out of Tanaka's grip and reached down to grab her cat. Cradling him in her chest. "No, I think he ate a toxic plant - I thought I saw him eating something and I wasn't sure before but-but now I am! So you guys need to go."

She ushered them towards the door, Ryūnosuke nearly tripping over his own two feet as she did so. "Y/n-"

"I'll call you later. Promise." She sent him a tight lipped smile and made no hesitation to quickly slam the door shut once they were outside.

Toji wriggled in her grasp, but she didn't let him go. Not until a few minutes had passed and she was sure they were gone. The fat cat jumped from her arms and went to go munch on some leftover kibble in his dish. Y/n watched him with a teary gaze. Silent and still. She sniffled, reaching up to wipe at her eyes harshly.

This was shit.

This whole evening sucked shit.

Their tradition felt lame. It felt like he didn't even care about it anymore.

She was done with it. She didn't want to deal with these stupid feelings anymore.

"Stupid Ryū.." she cried, shuffling over towards the island and snatching up a cookie. She practically shoved the entire thing in her mouth, muffling her cries.

"Fuck.." She sniffed, "I hate men."

—

A week went by and Y/n did her best to avoid Kiyoko and Tanaka. She barley responded to his texts and definitely didn't answer his calls. Y/n felt it was best to take herself out of the equation. It was too hard to be around the two of them. Especially right now. Maybe once her feelings for him faded a bit?

She dodged him as best as possible, saying she was keeping a close eye on Toji and she had lots of homework to do anyway.

But keeping away from him provided to be more difficult that she originally thought. He was a persistent mother fucker. He obviously knew something was wrong, or off, but no matter what he did or how hard he tried, Y/n wouldn't tell him what. She'd just brush him off and tell him she had something to do. Then she would leave. She hadn't been to any of his practises either.

Ryūnosuke didn't know what was going on, but he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Y/n opened her locker to get a textbook she needed for her final class. She was listening to music in a poor attempt to drown out her sorrows. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, the female jumped and whipped around. Hand coming up on instinct and slapping the person's face. Her mouth droppen open and she yanked out an ear bud. "Ryū! What the hell! You scared the crap out of me!"

Tanaka cradled his face, eyes wide in surprise before he let out a burst of chuckles. "Damn, Y/n. You're stronger than you look."

Said girl scowled. "Yeah.." she mumbled, not sure what else to say. She turned back towards her locker and started putting away a few things. "Did you need something?" Y/n was trying her hardest not to get upset. But it felt like someone had shoved cotton down her throat and she really wasn't ready to be this close to Ryū yet. She just needed some time...

"Actually, I did want to talk to you about something." He leaned against the lockers next to hers, sliding his hands into his pockets.

She let out a sigh. "I really don't have time right now, I need to get to my next class-"

"It'll only take a sec." He reasoned, taking her silence as a 'go ahead'.

"Look, I know you've been avoiding me lately and I just want to know why-"

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head to herself bitterly. Tanaka's eyebrows furrowed as he studied the sour expression on her face. "What?"

"It's nothing." She snipped, struggling to put her textbook into her bag. Fumbling with the opening as she tried to get herself to calm down.

"Well clearly it's something."

"Just drop it, Ryūnosuke." Y/n spat, shooting him a glare in frustration. Her chest was growing tight and it was starting to feel all stuffy in here. She finally got her textbook into her bag and slammed her locker shut.

Tanaka watched her in surprise, she never called him by his name. It was almost always Ryū. "No, I'm not gonna just drop it." He kicked himself off the lockers and moved in front of her, blocking her path.

"Move."

"No."

Her shoulders sunk. "Get out of the way."

He rose his brows, staring at her challengingly. "Not until to tell me what's going on."

Y/n ran her tongue along her teeth, once again shaking her head. "I'm not dealing with you right now." She moved to step past him but he grabbed her, stopping her from going anywhere.

"Y/n, I'm bein' serious. Tell me what's wrong." He pleaded, stormy eyes searching her own relentlessly.

"So am I. Now let me go." She demanded, trying and failing to get away from him. Her eyes were starting to sting and she knew she had to get out of there fast. Lest she break into tears in front of him.

"I will if you just tell me-"

"I don't want to do our tradition anymore!" She snapped, hands balling into fists, nails puncturing her skin.

Ryū's eyes widened and he took a moment to take what she said in. "What?"

"It's stupid, and it clearly doesn't matter to you anyways, so I'm done. I don't want to do it anymore." Y/n's voice cracked and she bit down on her lip to stop herself from saying anything more than that.

"What are you on about? Of course it matters to me." He huffed, completely taken aback by her words.

"Well clearly, it doesn't." She argued pathetically.

"Is.. is this because I brought Kiyoko over?"

Y/n let out a dry chuckle, lowering her head and blinking furiously to try and stop her tears. Just hearing it stung. It felt like a slap in the face. A bitter reminder of that horrid night. "It's our thing, Ryūnosuke. Ours. Not anyone elses. You should have called me, you should have asked first before just bringing her over."

"You're right. I'm sorry I didn't check with you first. But I didn't think it was a big deal. It's not like it's a super important tradition or anything."

Her gaze snapped up to his. "Not important?" She asked, ripping herself away from him.

"Y/n, I didn't mean- hold on a sec-" she tried to get past him again but he grabbed her once more, directing her back in front of him.

"It is important just not like... super important, y'know? It's just some silly thing we started doin' as kids. I thought it would be fun to bring other's into it." Tanaka reasoned, but Y/n shook her head.

"Well, it doesn't matter now. Because it's done. I don't want to do it anymore."

"Y/n, come on, you're seriously going to stop doing the tradition over something this stupid-"

"Yeah. I am."

Ryū's eyebrows came together in frustration and he clicked his tongue. "What is the matter with you? You haven't been acting like yourself."

Y/n rolled her eyes, fed up with his pestering. She just wanted to leave. It was too soon. He should have just let her go. "You're the one who isn't acting like themselves. Kiyoko this, Kiyoko that, fucking bullshit." She hissed, yanking a hand through her hair in agitation. She hadn't meant to let that slip out but she couldn't help herself. He had her cornered and she needed to get the hell out of there.

Ryūnosuke stared at her in shock, but before he could get another word out, Y/n removed herself from his grasp and stormed into the girl's bathroom. Slamming the door behind her.

It was too late to stop her tears now. Y/n cursed under her breath, glad no one else was in here. She started to fan at her face, hoping it would help. It was a futile attempt.

"Y/n, wait. Come back!" She heard Ryū's voice through the door and she puffed out her cheeks in agitation.

"Go away!" She choked out.

"Y/n, c'mon. I wanna talk about this." He leaned his head against the door, hitting the wood with a small thud.

"What did you mean by all that?"

She snorted at that, scrubbing at her eyes, thankful that she wasn't wearing any makeup or mascara to smudge.

"Y/n, don't make me come in there. You know I will." Ryūnosuke huffed, cringing as some passerbys sent him strange looks.

She shook her head, even though she knew he couldn't see her. She quickly slipped into one of the stalls, closing the lid and sitting down on the toilet. She buried her face in her hands and pray that he wouldn't come in or hear her crying.

Tanaka let out a sigh before pushing the door open and storming inside. He couldn't see Y/n anywhere but there was only one stall closed so he walked over to it and kicked the door open. Spotting his best friend sniffling into her hands, whilst sitting on the lid of the toilet.

He crouched down and placed a hands atop her knees. Giving them a gentle squeeze.

"I could have been peeing." She grumbles out angrilly and he cracks a small grin. "Y/n.. Talk to me. Please."

Y/n lets out a puff of air, peeking at him with red puffy eyes through her fingers. Ryū sends her an ecouraging smile, thumbs brushing against her legs softly. She wets her lips with her tongue nervously. "I'm happy for you, Ryūnosuke-"

"Stop calling me that."

She sends him a look.

"It's Ryū."

She snorts at this, rolling her eyes before continuing. "I'm happy for you, Ryū. I truly a-am. I don't want you to th-think that I'm not. I'm your best friend and if you're happy, I'm h-happy. But I can't help the aching feeling in my chest. I'm s-so scared of losing you. I don't w-wanna lose y-you. I just... I just need time. I dunno."

His eyebrows come together again as he processes this. "Is this about Kiyoko?"

Y/n deadpans. "No, it's about Nishi, you dumb fuck."

Her chest tightens with the realization that she's already said too much. And with the soft look on his face, she feels her heart stutter within her chest. Suddenly she's very aware of where his hands are. And she starts to shake her head. Trying to stand up and push Tanaka off of her.

"J-Just forget it, f-forget I said a-anything." She started, wishing this conversastion had never happened in the first place.

Ryū stumbled a bit, catching himself on the edge of the door before he could fall. He quickly stood up and grabbed Y/n by her arms, stopping her from going anywhere. He pinned her against the wall of the stall. "Y/n, stop! You can't just say all that stuff and then dip!"

"Yes, I can. I j-just did! Now let me go, Ryū!" She tried to get out of his hold again, but this time he wasn't letting her go anywhere. Not without a proper answer.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere! I don't understand, I know I can be a bit dense about this kinda stuff so I need ya to tell me straight up!"

"Ryū stop!" She wailed, pathetically trying to push him off of her.

"No! Tell me what's wrong! Tell me what's going on inside that thick head of yours! Tell me how I can fix this!" He begged, not meaning to yell at her but being unable to help himself.

"I like you, asshole!"

Ryūnosuke's eyes widen and in his moment of surprise, he losens his grip a little. Before he realizes, Y/n manages to shove him off of her. She pushed past him, a heap of tears, and runs out the bathroom.

Leaving Tanaka standing there dumbfounded. Eyes wide and breath hitched in his throat.

Man, he's really fucked up now...

[chestcongestion]

Powder and Ice: Ha//zbin Ho/tel

Warnings/ Content Tags: Mess, Mentions of Addiction and Drug Use

Word Count: 3,813

This one got away from me plot-wise, was working on a fic with a more stubborn/ in denial An/gel for a Hus/ker/dust fic, and then it inched closer to a study on An/gel and Che/rri's relationship after he starts making an effort to stay clean. I still like it, but I think I'll try another Hus/ker/dust fic later if I get some other ideas. Enjoy! ^^

It was a rainy Saturday evening, and Husk was polishing glasses when the double doors to the hotel swung open and a pair of long, thin, fishnet-clad legs sauntered their way inside. 

Setting down the martini glass he’d been cleaning, Husk gently wiggled his fluffy ears and attempted to suppress his smile as Angel approached the bar and sat down on a stool. 

“You’re back early,” Husk said, analyzing Angel’s expression and pondering whether or not he should pour the spider a drink. 

“Shoot ended early,” Angel replied, fighting back a slight shiver as the air conditioning above the bar blew over him, sending a chill down his spine and blasting frigid air onto his damp fur, “snff!” 

Husk noticed Angel’s vibrating shoulders and shot him a look of concern, sliding a bellini across the bar before going back to polishing glasses, “You alright?” he asked, testing the waters. 

“Mhm… I’m fine,” Angel replied, taking a sip of his drink and licking his lips, the bubbly prosecco hitting his nostrils, “H-hahh…Hhh… HNK-Ksshh! Hh-kxhht!” 

Husk’s ears twitched, “Bless you,” he said, still focusing on the martini glasses. 

Angel flushed briefly from embarrassment, wanting desperately to dab at his nostrils with a tissue as he felt his ‘nose’ threatening to run, but holding off, just letting it itch, and itch, and itch, “Oh, th-thanks,” he replied, “Hh! H-hihh…HnK-! Hh’Ddtsh! Hhnk’kxhht!” 

“Bless you,” Husk said, raising a fluffy eyebrow as he put away the last martini glass and popped open a bottle of vodka he kept under the counter, taking two swigs and setting it back down, “Snow day?” 

Angel shook his head. To help keep him on track while he weaned his body off of cocaine and PCP, Husk only used euphemisms and coded language to ask Angel if a shoot or particular day had been difficult enough to make him use again. So far, the system was an incredible success, and Angel had been completely clean for 4 months and counting. 

“Nuh-uh… snff!... I think it’s just the drink- Hh’Ddtshh!- bubbly always mbakes mby ndose itch… SnFF!” Angel replied, scrubbing away at his face, ice cold rainwater still dripping from his pristine white fur, threatening to crystallize under the harsh air conditioning, “H-hahhh…Hah’KsShew!” 

Husk rolled his eyes, “I never would’ve guessed… surprised you didn’t get this sensitive after chuggin’ a bottle of champagne with me that one time,” he said, drumming his fingertips against the countertop. 

“I think it’s just… snff!... more sensitive now that I’m not usin’ anymore,” Angel said, his face contorting and twitching as he tried desperately to keep from sneezing again. 

“You know what I think?” Husk asked. 

“What? That lookin’ all dewy and shiny from the rain makes me look cute?” Angel asked, leaning forward and fluffing out his furry pompadour, causing a mist of rain droplets to hit the air, glistening as they reflected the ceiling lights, “Hh!...Ha-Ah’tSshiew!” 

“That you’re gettin’ a cold,” Husk replied. 

“What? Nahh, I’m fine… I-ihh…I’m fine,” Angel said, rummaging through his pockets until he pulled out a napkin, holding it up to his ‘nose’ and letting loose, “Hihh-Ah’TsShew! H-hiIhh’TsShhew!” 

“Mhm, sure,” 

“Oh fuck off- snff!- maybe I’m allergic to you, Furball,” Angel scoffed, poking Husk’s nose. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Angel,” Husk replied, wiping off the whiskey glasses and smirking at Angel’s scowling expression.

Suddenly, the two men jumped at the sound of an energetic Cherri Bomb bursting into the parlor, covered in glowstick jewelry and wearing a scrunchie as a garter. 

“Angie! There’s a new joint opening up at the border, you should totally come with me, it’ll be fun!” Cherri said, reaching out and grabbing Angel’s hands, batting her eyelashes at him in an attempt at persuasion. 

“Sure, just lemme change first,” Angel said, shooting Cherri a half-smile as he wandered upstairs and came back down in a tube top, hot pants, and knee-high boots to replace his usual thigh-highs, “There we go- snff!- perfect.” 

“Yea! There we go, lookin’ just like old times, let’s hit the road!” Cherri cheered, pumping her fist in the air as she tugged at the neckline of her shirt and moved a piece of her hair out of her face. 

Angel inched back over to the bar, leaning against the counter and looking at Husk with pleading eyes, “Wanna come with? I could use the company,” he whispered, ignoring his watery sniffles that he seemed to punctuate each sentence with, dabbing at his nostrils with the napkin again. 

“Sure, why not,” Husk said with a sigh, tidying up everything behind the bar and pocketing a flask before mentally preparing himself to join the pair of party animals for their night out. 

“Hey, hey, this isn’t a trip to the old folks home, FancyFeast, if you’re gonna tag along you’ve gotta be cool,” Cherri scoffed, folding her arms in a manner that was more petulant than intimidating. 

“I can be cool… I’m only goin’ for Angel anyways, relax,” Husk said, stretching his arms out over his head and sticking close to Angel as the trio headed out the door- Charlie and Vaggie were on a brief trip to the Gluttony ring and would be back in a couple of days, leaving Alastor in charge, although he was also missing in action. 

“Whateva’ ,” Cherri said with a scowl, refusing to look at Husk as they traversed to the outskirts of Pentagram City in what was now pouring rain. 

Cherri and Husk were just short enough to get by sheltering themselves from the downpour with the awnings of buildings, while Angel was forced to get hopelessly soaked, his mascara and eyeliner smearing and running down the fur on his face. 

“Y’know… we aren’t that far from the hotel, we could just turn back,” Husk offered, raising his voice slightly so that the sound carried over the loud percussion of raindrops against the ground. 

“N-no way, I’b fide… I-I’ll dry off whe’d we get there…Snff- Snff!” Angel replied, his voice slightly croaky from struggling to talk over the rain with an already scratchy throat. 

Husk frowned, and inched closer to Angel while still under the safety of the awning, opening his mouth to attempt reasoning with him, only for a massive truck to whizz past, rolling their chunky tires through a deep puddle that was flooding the road, spraying Angel aggressively until he was absolutely waterlogged, his hair limp and his skimpy top threatening to slide off of his drenched chest fluff. 

“Hh-Hihh’Tsschhew! Hi-Ihh’kSsHEW!” Angel sneezed, spraying into the air before swiping at his nostrils with a damp, pitiful sniffle. 

Husk sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the group approached the club, a dingy neon sign reading ‘The Closed Freezer’ hanging in front of the brick building as obnoxious dubstep leaked out from under the steel-plated impact doors like smoke. 

“You ready to get fucked up, Angie?!” Cherri asked, gently shaking Angel’s shoulders and grinning at him with a fierce look in her eye, bouncing on her heels. 

Angel quietly dragged the heel of his wrist across his face with another congested sniffle, “Mhmm… this is gonna be fun…Hh’ktshew! ‘Scuse mbe…” he replied, waiting until Cherri wasn’t paying attention to discreetly clear his scratchy throat. 

Cherri swung the industrial doors open and a blast of freezing cold air hit Angel and Husk like a tidal wave, frost clinging to Angel’s wet fur almost immediately as they stepped inside. 

The Closed Freezer was a more literal name than Husk had previously thought, as the entire building was covered ceiling-to-floor with slippery, skin-numbing ice crystals, with chunky climate control units blasting freezing cold air into the room constantly. Husk exhaled, and watched as his breath instantly turned to fog against the frigid, dry air. 

“H-holy sh-shit,” Angel stammered, his teeth almost immediately beginning to chatter as his thin layer of drenched white fur froze over, his movements slightly stiff as ice crystals broke and reformed every time he took a step or readjusted his arms… or blinked, “H-Hi-ihh’Tshhhew! ‘KsShiiew!” 

Husk looked at the thin layer of ice that was coating Angel’s clothing like a protective lacquer and bit his tongue, “You sure you wanna do this?” he asked, wrapping one of his wings around Angel briefly in a futile attempt to warm him up. 

“Y-yes… I’b f-fide… I-ihh’tshhew!” Angel replied in a hushed tone, his sinuses leaking a stream of half-frozen mess down his face, which he struggled to wipe up with his jittery hands and chattering teeth. Once his face was clean, Angel turned away from Husk to cover a sharp, dry, almost barking cough. 

“C’mon Ange, you’ll warm up in no time once you’ve gotten pumped, you know what it’s time for, Bitch!” Cherri coaxed, holding up a plastic sandwich bag of white powder and dangling it in front of Angel’s face, gesturing toward the bathroom with her head. 

Angel bit his lip, taking a step back and fiddling with his freezer-burnt fingers, “No,” he said firmly before blowing into his hands in an attempt to warm up his freezing digits, “I’b ndot doin’ that, Cherri.” 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ buzzkill, A.D., we’re here to have fun, you can repent or whateva’ afterwards!” Cherri urged, grabbing Angel’s wrist and preparing to drag him. 

“I s-said. No.” Angel replied with a huff, yanking his hand out of Cherri’s grasp, still shivering violently, “I can have fun w-wit’out gettin’ fucked up… sNFF!... if you wanna get high, th-that’s your business, m-more power to ‘ya, but I don’t.” 

Cherri frowned for a moment, looking away from Angel in embarrassment, before regaining her spark, “Alright, fine, that’s… that’s cool, I’ll just trip hard enough for the both of us! Yeah!” she cheered, vanishing into the bathroom. 

Now alone, Husk turned to face Angel, a proud smile on his face, “That was good… Charlie would say that was ‘a healthy way to stand firm on your boundaries with a friend’,” he said, patting Angel on the small of his back. 

“I’m proud of myself,” Angel replied, turning to cover another harsh cough, the desperate barks were beginning to sound… croup-y against the stale and frosty air. 

“Angel���” Husk said, his voice probing as he folded his arms and shot the spider a knowing look. 

“What? I-ihh’tsShew! Ih’KShhew!” Angel sneezed, wiping away more half-frozen mucus with a napkin, silently thankful that nothing was smearing on his already mascara-stained face. 

“You got drenched on the walk over here and we’re literally in a repurposed meat locker… and, whether you are ready to admit it or not, you have a cold,” Husk said plainly, quietly moving his tail out of the way of a dancing drunk couple. 

“I don’t have a…a-ahh… Ii-Ahh’kTsShEW! Hh’kShew! Hnk’TsSchew!” Angel argued, letting loose a watery sniffle as his sinuses began to leak, and looking pitifully at his crumpled-up napkin. 

Husk pulled a travel package of tissues out of his pocket, waving them teasingly in Angel’s reach, a playful smirk on his face when he pulled them away as Angel reached for them, “Nope, nuh-uh,” he teased. 

“Th-that ain’t fair, Husk… SnFF!... Mby ndose is runnin’, this is embarrassin’,” Angel pleaded, holding a hand over his face to hide the trickle of mess from view.

“What, you allergic to ice now?” Husk scoffed. 

“Husk, baby, pleeease?” Angel begged, his scratchy voice cracking on the ‘please’, turning into another barking cough that seemed to suck the life out of his eyes as he visibly drooped upon catching his breath. 

“If you’re not sick, I don’t see why you’d need these, that napkin ought to work just fine,” Husk said, staring at Angel with a knowing look in his dark eyes, “Go on… you want ‘em so badly, don’t you?” 

“SnFF! Snff-snFF!” Angel sniffled pitifully, his sinuses still hopelessly dripping, his gloves damp with warm mess as he struggled to keep his composure, “Hi-Ihh’DdtsShheww! Hih’TsscHEW!” 

“C’mon Angel,” Husk teased, “Admit it, and they’re yours.” 

“F-fide! I cad’t take it- Ihh’KTsShEW!” Angel cried, “I’ve got a cold, you win, can I have the tissues now? Please?” 

“Christ, Angel- here,” Husk said with a nervous chuckle, watching as Angel desperately blew his ‘nose’ until a tissue was completely soaked, cloudy yellow-ish mess rattling in his sinuses with each sniffle, “We should go home… you sound like you’re gettin’ worse.” 

“I’b fide… SnFF! SnRkk! Fine! I’m…f-fine,” Angel argued, swallowing harshly and ignoring the throbbing sensation from his sore throat, “Besides… freezin’ stuff is a good way to kill germs, ain’t it?” 

“Yes, when they aren’t already inside you, once that happens, shivering and sniffling in a furnished freezer full of loud drunks is just a good way to get bronchitis,” Husk said, looking away sheepishly as though he was speaking from experience. 

Angel pouted, “I can take care of mbyself… snff!...IhH’TsShiew!” he insisted, tugging at his frost-covered tube top with numb fingers, muffling a hoarse, scratchy cough with his fist. 

“Mhm, ‘cause takin’ care of yourself is going out in the rain showin’ this much skin when you were already gettin’ sick,” Husk said, gesturing to Angel’s skimpy outfit, watching Angel struggle to stop trembling from the cold, “Healthy, smart decisions.” 

“Oh fuck off, SnFF!- I don’t need you to lecture me-ee… Ihh… Ihh’KTSHHEW!” Angel replied, swiping at his ‘nose’ with his thumb to alleviate the obnoxious itch. 

“Y’know, your pal hasn’t come back from the bathroom in a while… this happen often?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow as Angel let out another pitiful-sounding sniffle. 

“Sorta… she’d get lost in the moment, havin’ her fun and sometimes she’d forget about me- SnFF!- it’s fine, I’m used to it,” Angel said, his hoarse voice struggling not to crack as he fought to be heard over the loud music. 

Husk frowned, but said nothing. 

Two hours went by in a long, frosty blur. By the time the second hour passed, Husk found himself feeling slightly jittery and out-of-sorts as the piercing cold of the nightclub finally managed to hit his skin through his dense forest of fur. 

After a few minutes of pressure and pleading, Cherri had finally pulled Angel out onto the dance floor, and the two had been dancing for a while. 

Cherri hopped and bounced, pumping her fists in the air and flipping her massive mane of blonde locks excitedly; on the other hand, Angel waned, occasionally swaying his head to the oppressively loud thumping of the music, but mostly just trying to stay on his own two feet. 

Husk perked  up from his parking space at the bar when he felt a pair of ice cold, shaking hands rest on his shoulders, smelling Angel’s fragrant rose perfume from behind, “I’m not dancin’ with you… this kind of music ain’t my style,” he said firmly. 

“Don’t wanna dance…SnfF!” Angel replied, leaning forward so that more of his body weight was being pressed against Husk’s back and shoulders, “H-hihh… HiIh’DdtSshiew! I wanna go home.” 

“Hmph, now you’re ready to go? Bored of the music?” Husk scoffed, raising an eyebrow at Angel with a particular ‘I told you so’ look on his face. 

“No… No you were right- snff!- I ain’t feelin’ good,” Angel said weakly, covering a throaty cough with his arm. 

Husk noticed Angel’s trembling legs and his dazed expression, reaching a hand out to feel Angel’s cheek, chewing on his tongue when he felt heat radiating from Angel’s skin in spite of the bitter chill hanging through the nightclub. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Husk beckoned, holding Angel’s hand and gently tugging him along, only for Angel to stop in his tracks, refusing to budge, “Angel, c’mon.” 

“Wait… I wanna wait for Cherri,” Angel muttered. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake- Cherri!” Husk hollered into the crowd, folding his arms when a heavily-inebriated Cherri Bomb spun out of the intense crowd on the dance floor to meet them at the bar, “C’mon, we’re goin’ home.” 

“Oh please, this Heaven bullshit might be worth tryin’, but it in’t worth turnin’ into a square over, y’can’t force Angie to give up everythin’ that makes him happy over it,” Cherri argued, her slurred speech and wandering eye making Husk roll his eyes as she reached for Angel’s wrist, “C-C’mon Ange, let’s fuckin’ dance!” 

Angel pulled his hand away from Cherri’s grasp- not necessarily out of malice, but because he quickly held it up to his mouth to cover another croupy, barking cough. 

Struggling to catch his breath after his coughing fit, Angel clutched his chest and took a ragged inhale through clenched teeth, feeling the cold air burning his throat and shocking his sensitive lungs on its way in. The climate control was blasting in such harsh jet streams of ice-cold air that the oxygen felt thin, like the stagnant air near the top of a mountain. 

“SnrRk! He’s ndot mbaki’d mbe do a’dythi’g… Snrkk! I… Iiihh.. Hih’KsschEW! Hih’DdtSchhiew!” Angel said sharply, blowing his nose into the last of his tissues and leaning against Husk for support, still shivering. 

“Pshh, y’don’t have to pretend for the cat, Ange, I know you, we’ve still got all night to tear it up!” Cherri cheered, swatting Angel on the back, the blow to his sensitive chest making him cough. 

Cherri chuckled at the sight until a minute passed and Angel was still coughing, desperately wheezing for air whenever his lungs allowed him a quick break. Angel coughed, and coughed, and coughed. 

“Angie?” Cherri asked, reaching out to rub Angel’s shoulder, only for him to be yanked out of reach, with Husk dragging him to the exit by his waist, “H-hey!” 

“I’m takin’ him home, with or without you,” Husk spat back in Cherri’s direction, desperately rubbing Angel’s back as they moved. 

Cherri felt knots in her stomach, turning back to look at the hyped up energy of the dance floor, before refocusing her gaze on the club’s entrance and exit, the conflict and panic sobering her up just a bit, “Fuck it,” she muttered to herself, pulling off her heels- the last thing she wanted was to shatter her ankle from slipping on the icy floor- and running out the door back into the rain. 

It didn’t take long for Cherri to find Husk and Angel, Angel quickly grew lightheaded and exhausted by the end of his coughing fit, and dropped to his knees a few paces away from the club’s entrance. 

“Angie?” Cherri asked again, sitting down next to Angel’s desperately panting form, watching her friend’s chest rise and fall drastically. “What happened?” Cherri asked, turning to Husk for answers as Angel struggled to catch his breath. 

“Exactly what the fuck I said was gonna happen, he spent over two hours dickin’ around in a giant freezer while soaking wet when he was already sick, and now his lungs are kickin’ his ass for it,” Husk scoffed. 

“I’m-” Angel paused to cough again, finally getting some air in his lungs to the point where he could relax his shoulders and support his weight without leaning to hold himself up, “-I’m fine… Snrkk!- it was just so cold in there, the air was blowin’ so hard, I was fine for a while and then suddenly I couldn’t breathe.” 

“You okay?” Cherri asked. 

“Ndot really-” Angel said with a sniffle, “I…I shouldn’t have come out tonight- snFF!- I was already sick and this just mbade it worse.” 

Husk bit back the urge to smirk. 

“Why’d you agree to come?” Cherri asked, “Y’ could’ve told me, bitch, I’d have gone alone and brought y’ along some other time.” 

“I’ve been turnin’ ya down a lot… Ihh’Ddtshhew!, didn’t want ya to think I didn’t wanna hang anymore just ‘cause I got clean,” Angel admitted, coughing slightly as he rubbed his chest, “It’s just that hangin’ out can be… a lot, even when I don’t feel like shit.” 

Cherri, now far more cemented in her right mind, looked back on some of her behavior from the night and rested a hand on her best friend’s thigh, “Sorry Ange,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the rain, “Still gettin’ used to the new you… I’m tryin’, I promise.” 

Angel rolled his eyes, “h-Hihh’Ddtshhew! Ih’DdtSsHEW! I’b ndot that different, Cherri… I would’ve been happy to hang out wit’ ya if I wasn’t… Hih’DdtSHHEW!... sick,” he explained, “Mbe bein’ clean doesn’t- Snff!- mean I don’t wanna have fun anymore.” 

Cherri smiled, slowly rising to her feet and pulling Angel up after her, “C’mon, let’s go home,” she said. 

“I-Ihh’KtSschew!” Angel sneezed, dragging the heel of his palm under his nostrils, “Uch, I’m outta tissues.” 

Cherri fished around in her pockets, pulling out a beige square of cloth and handing it to Angel, “I usually keep these around to make molotovs, but you can use it as a snot rag tonight,” she said. 

Angel wiped his face off, slightly embarrassed, but choosing not to be too headstrong about it, “Thanks,” he mumbled, beginning to sound hopelessly stuffy as he blew his ‘nose’ into the cloth. 

Upon arriving back at the hotel, Angel was practically dead on his feet, soaking wet from the rain for a second time, and struggling to find a dry spot on his damp makeshift-handkerchief that he could use. 

“hHihh… Hi-ihh’ktschhiew! Ih’KtsSchew!” Angel sneezed. 

“Bless you,” Husk sighed, “I’m gonna go root through the medicine cabinets to see if we’ve got any cold medicine while you take a hot shower and get changed.”

“Mkay,” Angel replied, too exhausted to argue or attempt to challenge the passive demand, “I-ihh’KTsSchhew!” 

“Oh wait, Angie!” Cherri called out, pulling a plastic bag out of her pockets that was filled with what looked like rock salt, “Here-” 

“Cherri… what the-” 

“No, relax! It’s bath salts… they’re uhh… Eucalyptus and lavender,” Cherri offered, “If you put ‘em on the floor of the shower, the steam helps a ton… that’s not why I have ‘em, but you can still use ‘em that way!” 

Angel smiled, hugging the bag to his chest, “Thanks Cherri,” he replied, nervously rubbing the back of his head, “Once I’m outta the shower… you wanna watch a movie?” 

Cherri smiled, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around with her index finger, “Fuck yea,” she replied, resisting the urge to eagerly shake Angel by his shoulders, “See ya when you get outta the shower, dickhead!” 

Angel nodded, shooting Cherri a curt wave, and turning to head upstairs for an all-too-necessary hot shower and a warm pair of pajamas. Halfway up the steps, Angel paused, fanning in front of his face as an itch built in his sinuses. 

“What’s he doin’?” Cherri asked Husk in a hushed tone, watching Angel remain frozen on the steps, “Should I go ask him what’s wrong?” 

Husk shook his head, counting down the seconds with his claws, “Nahhh, watch this- in three… two… one-” 

“hI-IHH’KTSsSCHHIEW!” 

“That was it,” Husk whispered to Cherri, snickering as Angel disappeared up the steps.