#I refuse to let this one be done before the others

[sunni-stuff]

Soap’s eyebrows lifted with a curious glint in his eye as he looked from you to Adira, a playful grin edging onto his face. He leaned in, never one to miss a chance at a bit of friendly prodding.

“So… you’re married?” he asked, his tone as light as his smirk.

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Haha! No, I’m not.” You gave Adira’s tiny hand a gentle squeeze, glancing down at her with a smile that softened every edge on your face. 

Soap tilted his head, pretending to be shocked. “A bonnie lass like yerself? Unmarried?” he teased, hand on his chest as though it were a crime.

“Guess I’m a rare breed,” you replied with a grin, chuckling as you shifted Adira’s hand in yours.

Soap’s face lit up at your response, as if he’d just been given the most interesting bit of news he’d heard all week. He shot Ghost a quick look, but Ghost was still watching Adira, his gaze softened with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Gaz wasn't fascinated by Soap's ability to make anyone at ease, the man was a cassanova. Roach watched Adira with curiosity, as though piecing together a puzzle he hadn’t realized existed until now. Price stood off to the side, arms crossed, silently observing the whole scene.

“If you aren’t married, how’d you get this little one?” Soap pushed, grinning as he wiggled a playful finger in Adira’s direction.

Adira’s gaze snapped up from Ghost to the man with the funny hair, her little brow furrowing as she studied Soap with a mix of curiosity and caution. She leaned into your leg, clearly wary, but her attention stayed on the finger waving in front of her.

You chuckled, brushing a hand over Adira’s head to reassure her. “Long story,” you replied, smiling. “Let’s just say she was an unexpected blessing.”

Soap laughed softly, glancing at Ghost with a gleam in his eye. “Ah, aye, life’s full of surprises, eh?” 

Ghost, who had been studying Adira in silence, clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably as Soap’s words hit a little too close to home.

“I used to be really wild back in the day,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, a hint of nostalgia coloring your tone as you thought back to those not-so-distant years.

Soap wasn’t quite done yet, though. “Does the father know?” he threw a quick glance at Ghost, who had just risen from his crouched position. A new tension ran through Ghost’s frame, his stance rigid, as if the question had struck something he’d rather not confront.

You hesitated, a shadow crossing your expression before you shook your head. “No, he doesn’t… He, uh, probably has no idea.”

Ghost’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering from you to Adira, who was absorbed in her drink, unaware of the intensity surrounding her. His shoulders stiffened, and for a split second, he looked as though he wanted to speak—but whatever words he had caught in his throat, locked behind his silence.

"I see, well. I'm sorry if I took up your time, ma’am, you've been a nice chat," Soap said, his voice softening with a touch of politeness, his grin still present but more reserved now.

You nodded, giving Adira’s hand a gentle tug as you continued on your way, the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound accompanying your steps. The blue sky stretched above, peaceful, serene. As you walked, Adira turned her head, glancing back at Ghost one final time. She refused to let go of her cup, her small fingers gripping it tightly, but she lifted her other hand in a small, hesitant wave. "Bye-bye," she whispered, her voice soft but sweet.

Ghost’s gaze lingered, but he didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of things churning behind those eyes. 

Price let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms and facing Ghost. “So... what’s the plan?” he asked, his tone both blunt and expectant, clearly waiting for some kind of direction. The rest of the team stood in silence, watching the exchange unfold.

Ghost didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained on you and Adira, watching you both disappear further down the street, the distance growing with each step. The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound in the quiet winter air. He didn’t even notice Price's voice until the man spoke again, closer now, with a slight edge to his tone.

"Ghost, talk to me. What’s the plan here?”

Finally, Ghost shifted, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched as he turned to face Price. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something caught between anger, confusion, and a deep, gnawing regret.

"I don't know," he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I wasn't expecting this. Hell, I didn't even know she existed." His voice was low, strained, but there was a quiet honesty to it, as if he was trying to process something that didn’t make sense.

Soap stepped closer, his expression serious for once. "What now, Ghost? We can help. But you need to tell us what's going on."

Ghost finally looked away, his attention drawn to the ground, his fingers twitching like he was trying to find something to hold onto. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted. "All I know is... I saw her. And it hit me like a fucking truck."

Roach, always one to stay in the background, spoke up. “Maybe it’s time to talk to her, yeah? Figure out where to go from here?”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his stern gaze shifting to Ghost, assessing him. “And what exactly do you want from us? You’re in this, whether you like it or not.”

Ghost let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know,” he repeated, voice hoarse. “But I can’t just let her slip away.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, as the weight of the situation settled in. Then, slowly, Ghost nodded. “I’ll figure it out. Just… not now. Not here.” His eyes flicked toward the street where you had disappeared, and something in his gaze softened, just for a moment, before the mask fell back into place.

Price gave a single nod. "Alright. But we stick together on this. You’re not doing it alone, Ghost."

The team stood together for a moment longer, the wind howling through the alley, before they slowly began to move, their steps trailing off into the winter evening. The silence that hung between them was thick with uncertainty. No one knew what came next, but they knew one thing for sure: whatever happened, they were in this together.

A month passed, the team giving Ghost the space he needed to process the whirlwind that had hit him. They all knew this was something he had to handle on his own terms, but that didn't mean the questions didn't linger. What did it mean for the future? What did he want? The answers were still unclear, even to Ghost himself.

But Soap, ever the persistent one, wasn’t content to let things sit in limbo. He knew Ghost, knew how his mind worked, and that sometimes the best way to breakthrough was to take small steps. And if that meant subtly nudging you into the picture, then so be it. He’d always been good at this—at slipping in the background, making things happen without anyone noticing.

So, Soap started to "accidentally" run nto you. At the park, when you were out with Adira, he'd make sure to be in the same place at the same time, offering a casual greeting. It always started simple, harmless, with a nod or a small comment about the weather. Then, of course, there was that coffee shop where you'd gone to get hot chocolate for Adira.

The first time he "bumped" into you there, it was nothing more than a quick exchange. A question about the drink, a comment on the cold weather, just the usual small talk. But Johnny's natural charm and ease made you relax, and made the conversation flow without much effort. Over time, those small moments grew. You'd smile when you'd see him, and he'd greet you with the same friendly energy, always leaving you feeling at ease. No pressure, just casual.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Johnny began to warm you up to the idea of him. It wasn't much at first—a smile here, a shared laugh there—but he knew what he was doing. He wasn't pushing, just letting the connection build at its own pace. The more you saw him, the more comfortable you felt. The more you talked, the more you found yourself enjoying the interactions, even if they were brief.

One evening, Johnny sat beside you on the park bench, casually leaning back as Adira bounced around in the snow, her laughter filling the crisp air. The sound was contagious, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, watching her with a soft smile.

"So, me and a couple friends are meeting up at Leslie's this weekend," Johnny said, his tone light but with a hint of something more. "Would you be interested?"

You snorted, expecting the usual joke or teasing, but when you glanced over at him, his expression was far more serious than you anticipated. For a moment, you considered dismissing it. After all, Leslie's? A pub? That was a far cry from the cozy routine you’d built for yourself with Adira. 

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I fit the scene."

Johnny shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth lifting in that playful grin of his. “Please. It'll just be like old times.”

Your mind immediately wandered, trying to understand what he meant by that. What was it about old times that Johnny thought might appeal to you? You didn’t exactly have a wild past to cling to. Sure, you’d had your moments, but those felt long behind you now. 

Still, something about the invitation lingered. A night out... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You hadn’t done anything for you in a while. And maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to let someone else take care of the night for once. No worrying about Adira, no responsibilities for a few hours. Just some fun, whatever that meant now.

You hesitated, looking down at Adira as she made another snow angel, oblivious to the conversation happening nearby. She’d be fine, right? And you could leave if things felt uncomfortable. 

“Alright,” you finally said, meeting Johnny’s gaze with a reluctant but genuine smile. "I'll join you. But only if it’s not as crazy as you’re making it sound." 

Johnny’s grin widened, and you could tell he was already mentally planning the evening, no doubt with some plan to ease you in without overwhelming you. He stood up, dusting off the snow on his pants as he glanced back at you.

“Deal. I’ll make sure it’s a night to remember.”

You just hoped he wasn’t overselling it.

The weekend seemed to arrive so fast, and here you were, standing outside your apartment, nervously adjusting your blue blouse and jeans. It wasn’t exactly the type of outfit you thought would fit a night out, but it was the best you could do. Most of your wardrobe these days consisted of comfortable clothes, ones that could be easily changed or wiped clean in case Adira had another of her toddler mishaps. Sexy or flirty clothes were a distant memory, tucked away in a drawer somewhere, gathering dust.

Adira stood in the doorway, clutching her little stuffed bear to her chest, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. The sight hit you harder than you expected. You knelt down in front of her, your heart sinking at the sight of her teary eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, I promise,” you said, your voice gentle but firm, reaching out to her with a reassuring smile.

Adira sniffled, her tiny hand coming up to rub her eyes, but she didn’t break her stare. You held out your pinky, the gesture as familiar as breathing. Slowly, she reached out, her small finger wrapping around yours with the same trust she always had. The connection was brief, but it felt like a promise, one that you hoped would calm her.

"I won't be out long," you said softly to the friend you’d left with her. "And you, be good for Auntie too." The last part was directed at Adira, though the words felt bittersweet on your tongue.

Adira nodded, but her face still held that sadness, that uncertainty of what the night would bring without you. 

Standing up, you ruffled her hair and offered a small, hopeful smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just a little fun for Mama, okay?”

Her small nod didn’t do much to ease the tightness in your chest, but you turned and gave her one last look before stepping outside. The cool evening air wrapped around you, a contrast to the warmth of the apartment behind you, but you pushed the feeling away. Tonight was for you, however strange that sounded. 

As you locked the door behind you, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t just any night out. It was a night with Johnny, with his friends, with the possibility of reconnecting to parts of yourself you’d set aside for so long.

As you arrived outside the establishment, the familiar hum of chatter and music filled the night air, but what caught your attention first was Johnny standing outside, leaning against the brick wall, checking his watch. The moment his eyes met yours, they lit up, his expression shifting from casual to something almost... eager. 

“Well, well, look at you,” he said with that trademark wink of his, his gaze raking over you with a genuine appreciation that made you feel suddenly self-conscious. “You clean up well.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. It was hard to resist the easy charm of Johnny.

“Let’s just hope I survive this night,” you muttered, though the words were more for yourself than him. You weren’t sure what to expect tonight, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things might not go as smoothly as Johnny seemed to think.

Johnny chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “I’m sure you will. Now, let’s get going before I change my mind.”

With that, you fell into step beside him, the weight of your hand at your side suddenly feeling strange in the cool night air. He led you toward the door, and as you entered the dimly lit space of the bar, your eyes scanned the room. 

It was bustling, a mix of regulars and newcomers, all seeking solace or company for the night. It smelled of beer, whiskey, and the faintest hint of fried food, a familiar and welcoming kind of atmosphere. But as soon as you stepped inside, your nerves shot back up again. You tried not to let the nerves show, but they were there, itching under your skin.

What you didn’t notice, as you made your way to the bar, was the group inside. Ghost, Price, Gaz, Roach—quietly observing, waiting for their chance to either speak to you or simply let you slip through their fingers once more. Ghost’s eyes tracked you the moment you stepped inside, and there was a hesitation in his gaze, something raw and almost pained that flickered in and out. 

For a moment, Ghost didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched you, aware that the moment he’d been dreading—he had finally stumbled into. Your gaze met his across the room, the flicker of recognition passing between you both. But that was it. You didn’t remember. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know what he was to you.

Approaching the bar, you saw that Johnny was already leaning in, chatting with the bartender, exchanging friendly banter. You barely heard the words, only caught up in the feeling that something was different. Something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced back at the table where those men sat. They weren’t talking, but their eyes were all trained on you, as if waiting for something to happen.

Your heart raced without explanation. Ghost’s eyes—those eyes—stayed locked on you. He didn’t know how to approach, how to change what had already seemingly been set in stone. What was he supposed to say? What was the plan now that you were here, so close? God, why the fuck did johnny do this.

Johnny leaned toward you again, a soft smile curling his lips. “You good, love?” he asked, his voice pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the uneasy tension brewing in your chest. “Just... getting used to being out.”

Johnny winked again, oblivious to the chaos of emotions swirling within you. “It’s all good. Let’s have some fun tonight, yeah?”

Ghost’s fist clenched involuntarily under the table. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this distance, this silent acknowledgment of his role, or how long he could ignore what it meant to see you here now. 

“You’ll fit right in,” Johnny said, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words. “Just a bunch of mates enjoying a drink, nothing crazy.” Johnny leads you over to the table, you expected to be met with… well you didn't quite know what.  

Price leaned back in his seat, cigar in hand, a soft smile on his weathered face as he regarded you with a raised brow. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

"Neither did I," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile and doing your best to ignore the gnawing feeling that lingered when you looked at him. You hadn’t quite expected this part of the evening.

“I’m just here for a drink, nothing more,” you said, looking over at Johnny was getting comfortable in his chair.

“Well, pull up a seat, love,” Price said, motioning to the empty spot next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You hesitated but made your way over, perching yourself on the seat next to him. The sound of the glass being slid toward you, the clink of ice against glass, broke through the chatter around you. Your nerves buzzed as you focused on the drink in front of you, trying to ignore the sudden realization of just how different this was from the quiet, routine life you had at home with Adira.

“Enjoy yourself,” Price said with an air of casual amusement, leaning back in his chair. “This is all new for you, isn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow, not wanting to admit just how out of place you felt in the moment. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of whiskey warming you from the inside out.

You laugh lightly, a bit awkwardly, trying to shake off the nerves that gnawed at you. "Yeah, this all a bit... newish. I haven't been out like this in years honestly," you admit, taking a deep breath and glancing around the bar. The warmth of the space was a welcome contrast to the chill outside, but the sight of the men made you feel more like a fish out of water than ever.

Johnny claps you on the back with an easy grin, clearly trying to make you feel more comfortable. “These are my mates. Price, Kyle, Gary, and Simon," he introduces with a flourish, motioning to each man in turn. 

You give them all a polite smile, not quite sure what to make of them just yet. There was something about the way they carried themselves, all standing a little apart from the crowd, that made it clear they were more than just regulars at the pub. But you didn’t have time to focus too much on that right now. You were trying to just survive the night.

Price, who looked a bit older than the rest, nods at you, his gaze thoughtful, almost cautious. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a tone that is polite but distant, as though he’s waiting for something, some sign.

Kyle, as Johnny had called him—gives you a friendly nod, a playful glint in his eyes, but there's a strange sharpness to his look that you can’t quite place. “Pleasure," he says, offering you a tight smile.

Gary simply gives you a quick but sincere nod. His eyes linger on you just long enough for you to catch a flicker of interest before he looks away.

And then there’s Simon. His presence, as always, is quieter, more intense. He’s sitting in the middle, arms crossed, his gaze fixed directly on you. You can feel the weight of it, though. It’s impossible not to. There was something you couldn't place with him though you couldn’t see too well under the dim light.

You try to shake off the unease creeping up your spine. “Nice to meet you all," you reply, your voice warmer than you feel. 

Johnny, oblivious to the awkwardness in the air, slaps the bar and gives a nod. “Alright, drinks all around, yeah? Let’s get this party started!” he declares, pulling the group into the rhythm of the night.

As the revelry began your stomach churns slightly, a sense of unease still lingering despite the distraction. You knew something was off, something you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the men—it was the way Simon’s gaze lingered on you, the way he looked at you as if he were waiting for something. It unsettled you, but you couldn’t figure out why.

Johnny, seemingly oblivious to your tension, slides a drink toward you. “First round’s on me," he grins, the clink of glass against the table snapping you back to the present. "Here’s to a good night.”.

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the nerves that still clung to you. This was supposed to be a night out, after all. A chance to shake off the past, to let loose just a little. You couldn’t let the weight of everything pull you under before you even tried. What would be the point if you didn’t at least try and enjoy yourself?

Shaking the tension from your shoulders, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of alcohol easing the knot in your stomach just slightly. The guys were chatting among themselves, Johnny’s laughter cutting through the low hum of the bar as he joked with Kyle. Price was listening intently, nodding along while Gary seemed content to let the others talk, his eyes occasionally flicking to you, though his gaze didn’t linger long.

And then there was Simon.

His presence loomed even when he wasn’t speaking, his broad frame leaning against the bar just slightly, face half hidden by the shadows. You caught his eyes for a split second, the intensity of his stare making your pulse hitch. You quickly looked away, focusing on your drink, your nerves creeping back up despite the effort to push them aside.

You could feel his gaze on you, though, like a weight pressing against your back. You tried not to let it show, tried not to acknowledge how his proximity seemed to pull at something inside you, but it was impossible to ignore. There was a pull, something in the air, but you couldn’t quite grasp it.

Sighing inwardly, you turned your attention back to the others. Just enjoy yourself, you remind yourself again. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of it.

Johnny clinked his glass against yours, a grin on his face. “Here’s to not letting the night pass us by,” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but smile back, lifting your glass.

“Cheers,” you said, the warmth of the alcohol giving you just the nudge you needed to ease into the evening. For now, you’d ignore the tight feeling in your chest. You’d enjoy yourself. 

But the eyes that lingered on you would remain, whether you were ready for them or not.

You pushed your chair back with more force than necessary, the scrape of it against the floor loud in the otherwise quiet bar. The conversation still echoed in your ears, but your focus had been on the man, Simon, for the past half hour. His silence had become suffocating, every glance he cast in your direction feeling like it held some hidden meaning. You couldn't quite place it, but something was off about him. His eyes, cold and intense, had followed you too much, made you second guess every word you’d said.

"Im... gonna go powder my nose," you muttered, more to fill the silence than anything else. You didn’t wait for a response, the words barely out of your mouth before you were already making your way across the room, past the low hum of idle chatter and the clink of glasses.

While you were in the bathroom, the entire team turned their attention towards Ghost, each of them sizing him up, starting with Soap.

"What is wrong with you?" Soap asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

"What?" Simon blinked, genuinely confused.

"Mate, you've been gawking at her all night," Gaz added, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing but laced with concern.

"Shit. Are you serious?" Simon muttered, running a hand through his hair, but his gaze didn't stray far from where you had just disappeared.

Roach, leaning back casually with his drink in hand, nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's like you’ve been stuck in a staring contest with her since she walked in."

Price, who had been watching quietly, shook his head with a resigned sigh. He snuffed out his cigar in the nearby ashtray, eyes narrowing as he met Simon's gaze. "If you scared her off, I doubt you’ll get another chance, lad."

Simon’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t realized how obvious it had been, but now that the team was calling him out on it, he felt the heat rise in his chest. He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable, but the pull to look at you, to remember what had sparked your connection all those years ago had been almost magnetic.

“Alright, alright,” Soap teased, leaning in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just don't burn a hole in her head.”

“Shut up,” Simon muttered, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this without making things worse.

Price shared a look with the rest of the team, a silent understanding passing between them. While Soap might have been the one to set this whole thing in motion, it didn't mean the others didn't have contingencies in place. 

Soap got up first, stretching a bit. “Gonna make sure no one's tried to get in my car,” he said with a casual tone.

“I’ll come with you,” Gaz chimed in, already pushing himself up from his seat and following Soap toward the door.

A minute later, Roach also stood, excusing himself without a word, and then Price followed suit, his movements deliberate. “I’m gonna make sure they’re not up to anything,” he said with a knowing glance.

With everyone out of the immediate area, the bar suddenly felt quieter, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken. It took Ghost only a second for it all to click—he had been set up. Without thinking, he bolted from his seat, rushing outside just in time to catch the taillights of Soap's car disappearing down the street.

He cursed under his breath, but before he could make another move, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. There, in simple words from Price: 

“Good luck.”

Ghost stood still for a moment, phone in hand, as the weight of the situation hit him. His heart thudded in his chest. This was it. There was no turning back now.

By the time you returned to the table, you felt a bit more at ease. The night out wasn’t all that bad… it was just that Johnny had some weird taste in friends. Well, mostly the tall one. You couldn’t help but notice how everyone seemed to have left, a pit forming in your stomach at the thought of being ditched.

You let out a quiet sigh, about to gather your things and head out when your phone lit up in your purse. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Johnny. 

"Emergency, looks like one of the beers wasn't that good, poor Kyle threw up."

You paused, reading the message again, a small smile tugging at your lips. Aww… nevermind. At least they hadn’t forgotten about you after all. 

"Hope he's okay." You replied quickly, grabbing the straps of your bag when suddenly a hand landed on top of yours.

You looked up, meeting the intense gaze of Simon. Seriously? You couldn’t help but think. They took everyone but this guy?

You forced a smile, trying to pull your hand away, but Simon’s grip was firm, not unkind. “Look, I had a decent time, but I have to go—”

“Just a minute,” he interrupted, his voice low, steady, almost pleading. There was something about the way he said it that made you pause, something different than the usual small talk.

"Fine." The word slipped out before you could process it, and you cursed yourself inwardly. Really? You just agreed to stay with the guy who hadn’t stopped staring since you met him. You sat back down, and he mirrored you, settling across the table. 

Silence stretched between you, his intense gaze unwavering. He didn’t so much as blink, and you couldn’t help but feel more unsettled by the second.

What the hell is his deal?

“Look, if you're just going to be a creep, I don't think I want to mee—"

“Do you remember Armed Forces Day?” His voice cut through your words, quiet but resolute.

Okay, this took all day, I wanted to give you all something long to read incase I disappear for finals (which I might)

Reblogs appreciated!!!

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[cherrygirlfriend]

do your job right pairing: assistant!reader x ceo!rafe synopsis: assistant!reader forgets to mail important documents; the diligent mr. cameron makes sure it doesn't happen again. warnings: smut, spanking, degradation, praise MDNI - wc: 1.1k this is the first day of my birthday-week fics! honestly i had a blast working on all of these and i hope people enjoy them. ᯓᡣ𐭩

rafe had always been a hardworking man, especially when it came to his business, and he couldn't stand it when his employees didn't do their jobs right. people say that you can either choose to be feared, or respected, and rafe cameron was the kind of man who'd rather be feared.

so, the fact that he refused to fire the ditzy, airheaded girl who'd been hired as his assistant was nothing short of a miracle in the eyes of his other employees. what they didn't know, they couldn't ruin.

you were shaking as you walked towards his office, wobbly on your kitten heels, the tone that rafe used with you still fresh in your mind.

"come into my fucking office. right now." he had barked into your phone, before shutting the call. you chewed on your lower lip, not knowing what you had done this time for him to be cross with you. still, you lifted your hand, softly knocking on the door with the golden nameplate reading 'r. cameron'.

"come in."

you took a deep breath before pulling the door open, revealing your boss leaning against his desk, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to his elbows, crossed in front of his chest, a harsh look on his face, his eyes as cold as ice.

"lock the door."

hesitantly, you did as you were told, chewing on your lower lip, looking at him through your eyelashes. "w-what did i do this time?" you asked with a shaky voice.

rafe let out a small chuckle, entirely devoid of any positive emotion before clearing his throat, picking up a small stack of papers off his desk, and when you realized what they were, you felt all the blood drain from your face. "look familiar, hm?"

"mr. cameron, i'm sorry, i swear i was going to-"

"but you didn't." rafe interrupted you, tutting as he shook his head, one of his hands going to scratch his chin in thought, "you know, i'm starting to think you keep doing this on purpose. that you like it when i get mad at you, when i punish you. 'cause i don't know how someone could be so... dumb to keep making these mistakes."

"i'm sorry, i'll send it over right now, please-"

"no. that's not how this works." he pushed himself away from his desk, slowly striding over to you. looking at you up and down, rafe lifted your head up from your chin, making you look up at him. "you know the drill. desk. bend over."

"mr. cam-"

"now."

the air of finality in his voice caused a shiver to run down your spine as your wobbly legs took you to his desk, and you hesitantly bent yourself over his desk, the desk cold against your arms.

"you know what to do." rafe said, his hand resting over your ass that felt bare under his touch even with the fabric of your pencil skirt that was separating your skin from his, a rush of heat in your lower stomach. "count for me."

slowly, he pushed up the fabric of your skirt, revealing your bare ass, rafe letting out a small chuckle, "i see you decided not to wear panties, like i've asked. looks like my dumb little secretary can actually listen. you know what they say about broken clocks."

he grabbed at the flesh of your ass, massaging it slightly as he tutted, "five. you ready?"

"y-yes..." you mumbled weakly, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down on you're lower lip, preparing yourself for the impact.

a loud smacking sound echoed around his office before you could even register the sting on your ass, a small squeal unwillingly escaping your lips as your body was jolted forward by the impact.

"o-one." you counted, rafe's palm massaging at the buttock he had just slapped, before slowly pulling it away.

"you know, if you weren't such a dumb, forgetful slut, i wouldn't have to be doing this."

before you could even process what he had said, his rafe's palm landed another slap on your ass, your body jolting forward once again. this time, he didn't even take the time to massage your buttock before he pulled his hand away, delivering another slap to your ass almost immediately, one that made you let out a noise that was something between a moan and a squeal even though you were biting down on your lower lip so harshly you could taste blood.

"count."

you took in a deep breath as he massaged your ass, trying to stabilize yourself, your breathing erratic, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. "t-two, and, uh... three."

"i'm surprised," rafe cooed mockingly, "that a dumb little thing like you can even do simple maths."

rafe pulled his hand away, and you intertwined your own fingers together as a way to calm yourself down, your eyes stinging with tears threatening to fall, and once you felt his palm hitting your ass once again, a tear rolled down your cheek, your entire face feeling warm as you managed to pitifully let out the word "four." and although you were hurting, you also couldn't deny the arousal starting to gather between your legs.

"i mean, you'd think that you'd understand how important my work is. you could lose me thousands for forgetting to mail those papers." he tutted, pulling his hand away, "so, what are you gonna do from now on?"

"i-i'm gonna remember it, mr. cameron, i promise."

"that's my girl." rafe said, and once again, you felt his palm connect with your ass, a small yelp leaving your lips.

"five..." you babbled almost incoherently, a panting mess, certain that by now your asscheeks were red in the shape of rafe's large hands, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you realized that your punishment was over, a small hiss escaping your lips when the pained skin of your ass was met with the biting air of rafe's office.

"you did so well..." rafe said quietly, softly massaging your asscheeks before slowly sliding your skirt back down, smoothing it out. he helped you stand up, his bulge obvious in his trousers as he turned you around to face him, cupping your chin to once again lift your head up to look at him, "go home for the rest of the day, okay? take a warm bath and rest, hm?"

you nodded your head, looking up at him with your vision blurred by tears, rafe wiping the blood off your lower lip, "you did really well. i'm proud of you." he said, bringing his lips down to meet yours in a gentle kiss, his hand cupping your cheek so affectionately it was hard for you to tell if the man holding onto you was really the same man that had just punished you.

when he pulled away, rafe looked down at you with a sweet smile, "i'll come by later, alright?"

"alright." you nodded with a similar smile, leaning into his touch. when rafe pulled away from you, you smoothed down your skirt, slowly making your way to his office door.

maybe he knew, or maybe he didn't, but you'd never tell him that your little accident was anything but that. that they never were accidents.

[obitobi-simp]

This is obito uchiha alao knowen as tobi

BTW spoilers for naruto

Yeah that one is a lie

He's a bitch that just refuses to die

That's befor he went on a mission how did he break that promise ?

He got crushed by big rocks on one half(and give his new bff his magic eyeball cuz his bff lost an eye saving his ass(Wasted) but not relevant rn). You'd think he'd die from the boulder? Think again cuz You thought wrong he survived and got saved by old Founding Father and groomed and manipulated into being a terrorist (he was just being silly)

In said terrorist group, the origami girl blows him up with 600 billion mini bombs made out of paiper. He survived. To that's on him tho cuz he could sacrifice a magic eyeball(not his he has a stolen eyeball collection on a wall in a cave?) to save his sorry ass from being blown up for 10 min (his eye magic allows him to basically be dany phantom for 5 min straight and she wanted him dead)

Within naruto this still makes sense the next ones are just him surviving out of spite ig?

Next major thing he willingly let's his BFF stab him in the heart with lighting magic he survived that one and was heavly breathing for 5 min still somehow idk why his lungs didn't get damaged

Then he was forced to fully revive the guy that saved and groomed him(he was zombi kind of thing) the way that is done is exchangeing life for life (also eyeball magic bonus the magic eyeball in question originaly belongs to the manipulative zombi)

Idk how he survived long enougth to become the host of an ailen eldrich tree but he does he lives . He get's that thing removed which should kill him but he only takes a qick nap

Did i mention that that thing was split into 9 "monsters" and scattered ? And he got to play host to one of them that alao leave his body again . He should be dead but isn't

Did i mention all these things canonicly instant kill other ppl ? Othervhost that got the "monsters" removed from their body instantly died even the MC . Lightnig heart oircer no one survived showen multiple times kills ppl

Oh did i also mention the 3 things all happen in a singel night one after another in canon ?

This bitch just either A)refused to die on purpose B) survived out of pure mental instability and spite C) pissed off some deity(not that unlikely now that I think of it) D) the god of death shinigami or whatever didn't want to deal with him in the afterlife(he's a lil piece of shit and an annoying one on top of that too there are 4 gender male female and he's a living torture device if he really wanted to be one) E) the cultist warlock that was part of his terrorist boyband who got immortality from his patrion put a curse on him idk F)he out plotted the plot

He only dies later cuz after being used abondanig his life for a lie and doing a bunch of bad shit (he did nothing wrong in his life ever) the only good thing he could do was save the new born he put a bomb on exactly 17 years ago and let himself be turned to ash by an alien moon goddess

You thought that's it? No, he leaves the realm of the dead just like that to teleport to his BFF and give him magical eyeballs and a megazort to seal said alien moon goddess again. THEN HE DIES

He could've survived that shit if he didn't want to die. But I love that the only time he dies is at the hands of 2 beautiful woman

im aware this is an insane thing to say but i fucking. love characters that are just cockroaches. and i dont mean like. gross i mean they just do not fucking die. they can survive anything. they will outlive EVERYONE because they just will not die no matter what be it because they have a reason or because they literally cannot stop surviving the odds i love it i love it

[azsazz]

Cold Shoulder

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: after sprinkles of luck and doubt i cant stop thinking of hockey!az being weird and distant and then comes in figureskater!eris to be readers skating partner and the jealousy that ensues ooooooooo

AKA Part 2 to Sprinkles of Luck and Doubt

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 2083

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown Shots & Spins Sprinkles of Luck and Doubt

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“Where’s your guard dog?” The boy you’ve been trying to ignore since practice started says. He skids to a halt at your side, his skates spraying shards of ice across the worn ice. It’s due for a Zamboni soon, and glancing at the bright red numbers ticking the time away, you have twenty more minutes of skating until you’re done for the day.

It works perfectly for your schedule because you haven’t been able to focus since Azriel left you with a somber look after sneaking into the women’s locker room before his weekend away with his hockey team.

You don’t know what had gone wrong. Everything seemed fine when he pulled you into his body and you could feel the press of his thick cock in his pants against your stomach. He’d been more than excited to see you, and you’ve never felt more important than in his arms right then. Because he’d snuck into the women’s locker room to say goodbye. He could have easily left you with a text, or nothing at all—you knew his schedule like the back of your hand by now—but he felt inclined enough to break the rules to see you one more time before he left.

You get the saying now, because if he really wanted to, he would.

What you can’t grasp is the sudden change in Azriel’s mood. He’d gone stiff against you like the flip of a switch, and it wasn’t the good kind of stiff that reflected in his jeans. It was the kind of stiffness that you clocked immediately, fed on. When his body locked up, yours did too. When he refused to meet your gaze as he said a soft farewell, you didn’t have the heart to watch his off-putting demeanor.

It's been days since you’ve seen him. An entire week, almost. You’ve seen Cassian and Rhysand in passing, but they haven’t offered anything about Azriel and you hadn’t asked.

You’re not going to be that girl, even if the prolonged no-contact with someone you thought you could fall for is driving you up the wall.

“Practice,” you bite at the boy staring down at you. You wince at your tone. You answered much too quickly and with much to emotion for anyone to believe you, and you see it in the way Eris’ amber eyes soften a touch.

You don’t want his pity. You don’t need it.  All you want right now is to get off this damned ice—because of course it reminds you of Azriel, nearly everything does—and head back to your dorm to ice your throbbing knee.

You’ve known Eris since you transferred to Velaris University. He’s a challenge at the best of times and a menace at the worst, but he’s arguably your first friend outside of your dormmates, and even then, you’re not entirely sure they actually like you or if they just tolerate you because you all live together.

Maybe you need to start being a little friendlier.

“What happened?” Eris asks softly, and your throat grows tight with emotion. He’s the first person to ask, and for the first time since Azriel disappeared on you, you want to break down and let it all out. You want to spill every consuming thought you’ve had while you were overanalyzing and you want someone to feed into your delusion as much as you want someone to talk you off the ledge of crazy.

But you can’t do that, not in the middle of practice, because as soon as you open your mouth to spill, coach is shouting at you and Eris to run through your routine again.

You sigh in frustration, but it does nothing to ease the heaviness in your heart. After finally admitting that the injury you’re recovering from has been bothering you as of late, coach decided that working with a partner would help ease the stress on your knee while also keeping you working towards your goal.

You know you’ve had the option to work with a partner, but you’ve always been solo, and it’s difficult to allow yourself to put this much trust in someone else. The last time you put your trust in someone, he left you feeling like a wet towel abandoned on the shower stall floor.

Eris is well aware of your injury and how your recovery has been going, and he’s been more than happy to gently ease you into the routine. He’s been gentle with you during tricks, and you’re more thankful than you let on. As you get into position to practice one more time before you’re dismissed, you remind yourself to thank him properly by taking him to dinner or a movie or something he enjoys.

Eris counts you off and then you’re gliding across the ice together. His hand is a warm weight against your hip but it feels all wrong. It’s nothing like the hand you want there, the one that’s a brand against your skin.

You startle when Eris’ hand finds your other hip, preparing for your first trick. You wobble on your skate and he rightens you with a frown that you brush off with a head shake, taking a breath and focusing on what you do best.

Two, three, four, jump! Eris lifts you with ease, hauling you above his head. You engage your core and pose for a beat, two, and then he’s lowering you back to the ice with a gentleness that you haven’t experienced in pairs before.

This go-around, you’re mostly practicing lifts. Coach wants you and Eris to accomplish a triple twist lift, but you’re rusty working in pairs, and you need to work up to it. Plus, your knee screams in agony during your next trick, no matter how many times you’ve done a spiral.

Gods, you’re pushing it.

But to be the best, you have to.

You’re focused so intently on ignoring the pain flaring up your leg and the tricks you’ve yet to master to notice the figure across the arena. Hockey practice just let out, and a quick glance to the clock on the wall would have told you that if you’d been keeping an eye on it. Of course, you know the hockey schedule by heart. At first it was because you and Azriel would try to align your practices to get out on time so that you could find a dark place to touch each other, but now it’s because you wanted to escape any chance of seeing the broody hockey player you’ve decided you’re giving the cold shoulder to.

Azriel’s hazel eyes latch onto you and the hand he has wrapped around his hockey bag tightens until his knuckles turn white. He doesn’t know the guy whose hands are all over you, doesn’t like the way he grabs your hips to lift you, doesn’t like how close his face is to yours, how his eyes glitter with amusement when you curse under your breath. He doesn’t like the way your body looks molded to his when you jump or the way that you stare at each other at the end of your routine, both panting so hard that your chests nearly brush with every inhalation.

He definitely doesn’t like the ire flooding his bones like magma, nor the prickling sensations of jealousy that threaten to overtake his body, march him onto the ice, and beat the shit out of the guy that’s touching what’s his.

And he most certainly doesn’t like the way that you favor your uninjured leg as you make your way off of the ice.

Azriel can’t help himself, he’s a fool. A fool for leaving you. A fool for not messaging you that he needed time to figure his own shit out, that things with you were becoming too real. A fool for every doubting whatever you had in the first place.

He fucking missed you. All weekend, all week. He should’ve found you sooner, but with the loss against the Sparrows, coach has been making the team do double practice so they’re prepared for their next game tomorrow night, and with his classwork and personal life stacking up, he hadn’t prioritized you.

He’s realizing now that he should have.

Azriel doesn’t know what he’s doing until he’s halfway to where you’ve come off the ice and are listening to your coach. Eris stands too closely to your side as you nod, and it takes you longer than he wants to admit to notice him.

He watches your pretty eyes go wide, drink him in from head-to-toe—which he secretly preens at because you still want him, even after he’s acted like a jackass all week—and then narrow in a glare so harsh his steps falter.

Surely, he knows he fucked up, but he hadn’t gauged just how angry you’d be.

Very, apparently.

Azriel’s still trying to muster up what to say when coach dismisses you. You turn to Eris instead of moving towards Azriel, and the black-haired boy bristles at that fact. He can’t hear what you’re speaking about, but when Eris graces you with a charming smile and an agreement, Azriel knows he doesn’t like that one fucking bit.

You snatch your towel from where it’s hanging over the edge of the bench and wrap it around your neck, following Eris towards the locker rooms. You have to work to keep your face neutral, but your knee is killing you. All you want to do is go home, prop it up and ice it, maybe even devour a pint of ice cream or two, but upon seeing Azriel waiting for you in the walkway off the ice, you hastily invited Eris to grab dinner with you instead.

You want nothing to do with Azriel at the moment.

He’s still glaring at your friend when you try to pass by. Azriel grabs your arm but it’s gentle, and sends a zip of lightning up your spine.

“Hands off, hockey douche,” Eris defends, but Azriel doesn’t pay him a second glance, his intense eyes focused entirely on you.

“Can we talk?”

His voice is so soft, eyes pleading, that you want to cave immediately. Crawling right back into his arms sounds like bliss right now because you know Azriel well enough to know that he’s noticed how badly your knee is bothering you, and he’d be a great caretaker. But that means he’s also noticed how he left you, by the remorse in his eyes, and how upset you are with him.

“I can’t,” you respond, sticking to your guns no matter how painful it is. Azriel’s hand is warm on your arm, and his touch alone is already battering through your weakened defenses. You lift your chin and reprimand yourself all in the same motion. “I have plans.”

“Cancel them.”

“I don’t think so,” Eris huffs, hovering by your side. Azriel’s face hardens and you manage to hide your wince when he turns his glare on your partner.

“This conversation doesn’t involve you, firedick.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, and he hates that you’re using his full name. He hates that you sound so upset. “Apologize.”

He sets his jaw, staring down at you. You stare right back, arms crossed fully over your chest. There’s a bead of sweat brimming at your hairline that Azriel wants to brush away, and it’s a struggle not to haul you into his arms and drag you back to the hockey house with him to talk.

After a few terse seconds of silence, you scoff. He’s not going to apologize to you, and he presumably liked you, there’s no way in hell he’s going to apologize to Eris for calling him a crude name.

You manage to sidestep Azriel, though you’re sure you only get away with it because he lets you. He’s a persistent man and usually gets what he wants, but not today.

If he wants anything to do with you, he’s going to work for it.

“I’m sorry,” Azriel says when you’ve taken two steps away from him. You know it isn’t directed at Eris, but at you. Your steps falter and your lip wobbles with emotion. You wonder if Azriel knows what he’s sorry for, or if he’s just saying it to appease you.

You glance at him over your shoulder, cursing your wet eyes for giving you away.

You say thickly, “Yeah, me too,” and continue down the hall to the locker rooms.

Azriel watches you go.

_________________________________________

Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13 @sunny1616

[luvismenu]

Only When It's Us — JJK ,, index ,, about taglist

Chapter 02 — distraction ✎

fic summary: you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.

nsfw warnings: smut; lots of kissing, lots of touching lol, oral (male recieving, fem too? kinda), sucking fingers, doggy style, unprotected sex (shes using birth control so yep, be safe!) use of ‘good girl’

wc: 6k

📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @kyuupii @fluttershypoo @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @mar-lo-pap @jungkooks-wife @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @leemonis-blog

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @sweetmimosa28

abt series taglist: send me an ask w the series title !!

“i have to go.”

“why don’t you just come back home? you can start over, and this time, maybe you’ll be more like your brother.”

you sigh.

“mom, i don’t want to be him,” you say quietly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. on the other end, you hear her let out a soft, disapproving tsk, a sound that always manages to make you feel a little smaller.

“aren’t you clearly struggling with school? if you were here with us, with your brother, we’d help you. you’d be fine,” she insists, as if coming home would magically fix everything.

you roll your eyes.

“i really have to go.”

“___, just listen to—”

but before she can finish, you end the call, staring at the blank screen for a moment.

there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest, one that refuses to fade, no matter how much you try to brush it off. its like a quiet reminder of all the things you’re trying to avoid.

go back home?

after everything you’ve been through to study what you want, to finally live on your own terms. every argument, every latenight fight with your parents, all just to claim a bit of freedom.

you worked so hard to break free from their expectations, to stand on your own.

you even transferred universities just to escape the constant pressure back in your hometown. no matter what you did, it was never enough. every choice was somehow wrong, not ‘their way.’

you can’t go back now.

not until you’ve made it, not until you have something real to prove them wrong. you have to be successful, if only to show them that your way was the right way all along.

“hey, are you done thinking? never seen anyone contemplate cheerios this hard.”

min yoongi’s low voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up, finding him behind the cash register, his lips curving into a small smile.

“just wondering if i can actually trust your store’s products. what if you are some sort of cheerio secret agent and you're trying to poison me?” you joke, handing him the money.

“oh no, you figured it out. we’ve been poisoning the cheerios. now how am i gonna explain to my boss that our mission failed?” he dramatically placesb a hand on his forehead as if you revealed his deepest darkest secret. you can’t help but chuckle, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit.

“bad day?” he asks, his gaze softening a bit as he opens the cash register.

min yoongi; your friend.

well, he's more like your senior. he graduated last year and he is working parttime at this convenience store cuz he thinks in this way he could spend some time outside.

you didn't question him about it any further.

you don’t usually come here unless it’s an emergency, and breakfast for tomorrow qualifies as pretty urgent, or so you tell yourself.

“something like that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nods slightly. “well,” he begins, “i’m sorry i can’t give you a discount,” he adds, trying to lighten the mood.

you chuckle, the corners of your mouth lifting. “aw, that’s too bad. i thought i might get these cheerios for free.”

he smiles softly, “maybe some other time,"

you smile back at yoongi and turn to leave. but then you almost bump your head against a man’s chest, stumbling back in surprise.

that was close.

you look up to apologize, but your words get caught in your throat as you take in his appearance.

he’s handsome.

no, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. his face is sculpted to perfection, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. his dark eyes seem to pierce right through you, and his long, dark hair falls effortlessly over his forehead.

but there’s something else,

he looks... mad?

you quickly gather yourself, your cheeks warming slightly. “sorry,” you blurt out, stepping aside to let him pass.

as you walk out of the store, you catch a snippet of conversation behind you.

“are you still upset about her, jungkook?” yoongi’s voice carries just enough for you to hear.

you try to shake it off, not wanting to dwell on whatever is unfolding behind you. it’s not your business, after all.

you step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you leave the store, and try to focus on the tasks ahead of you.

“it doesn’t make any sense, hyung,” jungkook scoffs, the frustration bubbling up inside him.

“when did she ever make sense?” yoongi replies dryly, not backing down as he meets jungkook’s glare. the tension in the air feels thick, but yoongi isn’t afraid to speak his mind.

“from my point of view, you’re now a free man. free from all the bullshit you’ve been through,” yoongi explains, hoping to lift jungkook’s spirits.

“what bullshit? i was happy. we were happy,” jungkook frowns, his confusion evident. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, struggling to comprehend yoongi’s words.

“that’s what she wanted you to think,” yoongi replies, his tone serious. “and to be honest, that’s what you always did. you did whatever she wanted. you changed for her.”

“i loved her,” jungkook insists, his voice a bit softer but still filled with conviction, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

“did you? really?” yoongi presses, searching jungkook’s eyes for any hint of doubt. he knows this is a tough conversation, but it needs to be talked out.

jungkook looks away and mutters. “you don’t get it,”

yoongi’s expression softens. he presses his lips together as he looks at jungkook, feeling bad for him. “i’m sorry, jungkook. but you really have to let it go now. it’s been two weeks. it’s time to start moving on.”

jungkook stays silent.

instead of responding, he reaches for a lollipop displayed near the cash register, the bright colors contrasting sharply with his gloomy mood. he hands yoongi some money, more than what the lollipop costs, as if he’s paying for more than just candy.

“do you want the change, or can i keep it as a tip for my great service slash friendship?” yoongi tries to lighten the mood, hoping to bring a smile to jungkook’s face.

and it does.

jungkook’s lips curl into a faint smile, a small but genuine response. “keep it,” he says softly.

as jungkook turns to leave, yoongi watches him go, feeling sad for his friend.

“bad day indeed.”

you're sat on a bench in the park near the convenience store, lost in your own thoughts. the quiet sounds of the evening settle around you, the faint rustle of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, and your own sighs mingling with the cool air.

you’re not really thinking about anything in particular, just letting your mind wander in that aimless way it does when everything feels overwhelming.

then, a loud voice cuts through your thoughts.

“no, i know you're hiding something from me!” someone snaps, his voice taut with irritation. “fine! have it your way then.”

curious, you glance over and recognize him immediately; the same man from earlier at the store, the one you’d nearly bumped into.

he’s pacing as he talks on his phone, one hand running through his dark hair in exasperation. his jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed, and you can practically feel the tension radiating off him even from a distance.

after a moment, he ends the call with an aggravated sigh, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he makes his way into the park, still visibly upset. he barely notices his surroundings as he walks closer to where you’re sitting.

he sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, muttering something under his breath as if willing the frustration to melt away. you can’t help but stare a little, like an idiot.

then his eyes snap open and land directly on you.

“got a problem with me?” his voice is sharp, cutting through the silence between you.

you blink, startled, and stand up instinctively. “excuse me?”

he turns fully to face you, his eyes never leaving yours. “i asked, you got a problem with me?”

“no.” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“good.”

wow. nice attitude.

just as you’re about to walk away, he calls out again.

“never seen you around here before.”

“pardon?” you turn back, surprised.

“you’re yoongi's friend, right?” he asks,

you cross your arms, giving him a wary look. “why do you care?”

he shrugs, almost nonchalant. “my bad, just curious. never seen yoongi smile at a normal customer before, so i assumed.”

“oh,” you reply, softening just a bit. “well, i guess you could say we're friends.”

he raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you guess?”

you offer a small shrug of your own. “he used to help me when i was still a freshman, and he still tries to whenever he can. i'd say he's like my teacher, in a way. it’s not like we hang out or anything, though.”

he tilts his head, considering your words. “well, consider yourselves friends. trust me, he doesn’t just help anyone.”

you narrow your eyes slightly, still wary. “and who are you, exactly?”

“jeon jungkook,” he says, extending a hand with a surprisingly polite nod. instinctively, you reach out and shake it, his grip firm. “since you're yoongi's friend, i think we go to the same university. though this is the first time i’m seeing you.”

“same, i am ___,” you pull your hand back.

“what are you doing here, in the middle of the night? didn’t your parents ever tell you not to go out alone?” he asks, the way he talks is somewhere between teasing and serious. you can't quiet get what it is but something about it grates on your nerves, like he's playing at being concerned but in a way that feels almost mocking.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back, meeting his gaze head on.

he doesn’t flinch, only tilts his head slightly. “i always come here,” he says, his voice calm, almost like a matterof fact.

“same,” you respond. “during the day.”

he quirks a brow, “so why are you in my night shift?”

you scoff, a laugh slipping out before you can stop it. “this isn’t your place or ‘shift,’ you know."

“well, you come here during the day; i come here at night. sounds like shifts to me,” he says with a shrug, and you catch the playfulness on his face.

“guess i’m overtiming, then,” you say, glancing away to hide your own smirk. “don’t mind me.”

he stays silent.

“you’ve got your own shit to deal with, huh?” he says, his voice breaking the quiet.

“why are you talking to me?” you blurt out, catching him a little off guard. “i mean, you don’t even know me.”

he raises an eyebrow, unphased. “i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, mimicking your answer from before.

you narrow your eyes, folding your arms. “i don’t think i want to talk about my problems with a random stranger.”

“problems…” he echoes, looking you up and down like he’s trying to figure you out. “let me guess. got into a fight with your boyfriend?”

“no,” you say quickly, rolling your eyes. “i don’t have one.” for a second, you think you catch a flicker of surprise on his face. “what about you? girlfriend mad at you?”

his face shifts, something almost vulnerable passing over his features before he looks away. “guess you could say that,” he mutters. “since she broke things off with me.”

a silence stretches between you two.

“i’m… sorry to hear that,” you finally say, feeling the awkwardness settle around you.

you didn't expect that.

honestly, the idea of someone like him getting dumped hadn’t even crossed your mind. a guy who looks like that—that intense aura—doesn’t exactly seem like the type to get left behind.

you assumed he’d be the one calling the shots, the one walking away. but here he is, single and clearly dealing with the aftermath of something that’s weighing on him. its surprising.

a thought crosses yourmind.

if someone could leave him, someone who had a place in his life and a claim to his heart, maybe he’s not as perfect as he seems on the outside. maybe there’s something beneath the surface, something that’s harder to deal with than his looks would suggest.

it’s like a puzzle you didn’t even mean to start solving, yet here you are, wondering if there’s more to him than just that handsome face.

but then you shake the thought away. he’s a stranger. a random guy you happened to bump into, quite literally, at a park in the middle of the night. it’s not like you’ll see him again after tonight. or, at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

because, really, why should you care?

whatever his story is, it’s none of your business.

“anyway, hope you figure your problems out.” he says, his gaze flickering away as if he’s eager to dodge any deeper conversation.

“likewise,” you reply.

without warning, he pulls a lollipop from his pocket, holding it out to you. “here,” he says, waiting for you to take it.

you reach out slowly, raising an eyebrow. “thanks?”

he smirks, “again, did your parents never tell you not to take candy from strangers?”

“maybe i like to be a little rebellious,” you say, smirking back at him and he shakes his head smiling.

“well, go ahead, eat it. i don’t want you tossing it away. i spent a lot on that sucker,” he says, a playful grin spreading across his face. despite the oddness of the moment, a corner of your mouth quirks up.

you unwrap the lollipop, examining it with a critical eye before giving him a look that says it all.

he catches it, tilting his head in curiosity. “what?”

“i don’t think i like raspberry flavor,” you admit, holding the lollipop up like a trophy of sorts.

he squints at you, “you’ve never tasted one before?”

you shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “i don’t like raspberries, so i’m guessing this is more of the same.”

he shakes his head, lips twitching into a smirk. “that’s pretty bold, making assumptions without even trying it.”

“just give it a taste; maybe you'll like it,” he suggests, a teasing smile forming on his lips, clearly wanting you to try it. deep down, he doesn't even like raspberry flavor; he just picked it out randomly at the store.

“uh, no thanks. i don’t want that nasty taste on my tongue,” you reply, scrunching your nose a little . “but thanks, you could have—”

your words are abruptly cut off as he grabs your hand, the lollipop still held tightly between your fingers. in one swift motion, he leans in, wrapping his mouth around it. his tongue swirls around the candy, and then he pulls it out, his lips glistening with a reddish-pink hue that matches the flavor.

you're completely taken aback, eyes widening in shock.

oh what the fuck.

“yeah, you’re right. it does taste nasty,” he says, licking his lips as he releases your hand. “give it to me, i'll just throw it away or something”

suddenly, the lollipop feels trivial compared to what he just did. you stand there, completely speechless, your mind and heart racing as you try to process what jus happened.

“what?” he stares at you.

“you’re good with your tongue,” you say, the words slipping out before you can really think them through.

he pauses, his eyes widening for a second, and he chokes on nothing, almost like he’s been caught off guard mid-breath. “uh, what?” he finally manages, blinking rapidly.

realizing how that might’ve sounded, “i just meant... the lollipop. you seemed pretty skilled with it,” you clarify, though you’re aware it’s not really helping.

what are you even trying to say?

he looks at you, a smirk playing on his lips now. “uh-huh, sure,” he says, teasing you. “that’s what you meant.”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “don’t flatter yourself, i was just making an observation.”

but the way he’s looking at you now, dark eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place, makes it hard to pretend that slip of the tongue didn’t mean more than you intended.

“so, do you want to suck on it?”

“huh?” you blink.

suck on what now?

“the lollipop” he clarifies, a small smile playing on his lips.

oh.

you clear your throat, fighting to keep a neutral expression. “no, definitely not, especially now that you had your tongue all over it.” you try to scrunch your nose, but any attempt at showing disgust falls flat with the heat rising in your cheeks.

“alright then, just asking if you changed your mind,” he shrugs, still holding your gaze.

“i still don’t want it,” you say quickly, trying to sound convincing.

“okay.” he blinks, unfazed.

“okay,” you repeat, awkwardly.

he gestures to the lollipop still in your hand. “uh, so… are you gonna keep holding it?”

you glance down, pulling your hand back. “i’m gonna throw it away,” you declare, though it feels a bit ridiculous now, given everything that just happened.

“i hope so,” he says, one side of his lips quirking up.

why do you kind of like his smile?

you try to shake your thought off, tossing the lollipop into a nearby trash can, trying to act as casual as possible.

“well, guess that's the end of that,” you say, hoping to sound nonchalant. he nods as he crosses his arms.

you raise an eyebrow, mimicking his stance. “do you usually hand out half-eaten lollipops to strangers?”

he laughs, low and soft, the sound surprisingly warm in the quiet night. “only when they look like they need a little distraction.”

you tilt your head. “oh? and what made you think i needed one?”

his eyes meet yours, his expression softening. “just a hunch,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. “we all got stuff we’d rather not think about, right?”

a pause.

there’s something unspoken between you two, a quiet understanding in the way you hold each other’s gaze.

he's right.

you are stressing about things you'd rather not think about, things that seem to cling to your mind no matter how hard you try to push them away.

and then there's him, a stranger but somehow not, going through his own mess. you can see it in his tired eyes, the way he keeps looking off into the distance as if trying to shake off whatever weight he's carrying.

you realize you don’t mind it; you don’t mind his company, or even the strange comfort of this shared silence.

both of you are here, each trying to forget whatever it is that’s eating at you. maybe that’s why this moment feels so easy.

”yeah,” you finally say, “guess we do.”

“i gotta go now,” you announce, hoping to put an end to whatever weird tension is building between the two of you.

he doesn't say anything. no goodbyes, no attempts to stop you. so you turn and start walking away, trying to shake off whatever just happened.

but before you can take more than a few steps, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. you stop, surprised, and turn back to face him. his grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to make you pause.

you meet his gaze, and there's something in his eyes—something intense, something that makes your stomach flip.

“would you like a distraction?” he asks, voice low, almost like a whisper meant just for you.

you blink, not sure if you heard him right. “what?” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

instead of answering, he tugs you gently closer. your body stumbles forward, and your hands land on his chest to steady yourself. his heartbeat is strong under your palm, and suddenly, everything feels too close, too intense.

he looks down at you, his eyes flickering over your face like he’s searching for something. “i think i do,” he mutters. “don’t you?”

your mind is racing, trying to make sense of this.

is he asking what you think he’s asking?

he’s a stranger. someone you barely know beyond a couple of conversations and an awkward encounter in a convenience store.

yet there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it hard to think straight.

“yes,” you hear yourself say before you can even process it.

his lips curve into a satisfied smile, and without another word, he leans in and kisses you.

the world seems to stop as his mouth meets yours. it’s not hesitant or soft; it’s urgent, as if he’s been wanting this for longer than the short time you’ve known him. his hands slide up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

your fingers clutch his shirt, feeling the heat of his body against yours. it’s messy and impulsive, and he doesn't even care that you’re both in the middle of a park, under the dim glow of the streetlights.

right now, all you can think about is him. the way he tastes, the way he kisses you desperately.

maybe you do need this distraction.

his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, letting the kiss deepen. his lips are soft, and you moan as if you're melting into the kiss. there's something about the way his mouth moves against yours; like he's been waiting to do this.

“wait—” you pant as pull back, your heart pounding against your ribs, trying to gather your thoughts. he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he asks in a low voice, “what happened?”

“we're... we're outside,” you point out, glancing around.

he tilts his head, his brows raising slightly as if that’s the least of his concerns. “so?” his voice is low and almost teasing, like he finds your hesitation cute.

you let out a scoffing laugh, “what do you mean so?wee’re literally in a children’s park.” you gesture to the swings and slides nearby, deserted at this hour but still... it’s a public space.

he pauses for a second, “my car’s parked just over there,” he nods towards a sleek vehicle at the edge of the park, his lips curling into a smile. “we could, uh... relocate or—”

before you can even process that, your curiosity gets the better of you. “wait— you have a car?” you cut in, a little surprised.

he chuckles. “yeah, and it’s a pretty one at that.” there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s enjoying this back-and-forth with you, like it’s some sort of game.

you sigh, still trying to wrap your head around the craziness of this entire situation. “okay,” you murmur, almost to yourself, deciding to just go with it. what’s the worst that could happen?

he releases his grip on you, but only so he can grab your hand and guide you towards the car. the walk feels a little awkward now, a heavy tension hanging in the air. you're not sure what to say.

what’s the protocol for walking towards a car with a guy you’re about to hook up with?

as if sensing your nerves, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “come on, my car’s comfy. don’t worry,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. the way he’s holding your hand... it’s surprisingly tender, making it feel just a little less awkward.

when you reach the car, he opens the back seat door for you. you hesitate for a second, “you won’t, like, kidnap me or something, right?” you half-joke.

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “for someone who’s so aware of the things you shouldn’t be doing, you sure do them anyway,” he teases. his words send a shiver down your spine, both a warning and an invitation.

but you ignore that nagging voice in the back of your mind. instead, you climb into the seat and he follows you right away.

“why are you—” your words are cut off as he crashes his lips against yours, the urgency in his kiss making you lose your breath. one of his hands grips your waist, pulling you against him, while the other tangles in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head for better access.

the way his lips move against yours, hot and hungry, sends sparks shooting down your spine, and before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth, matching his intensity. your hands scramble to find something to hold onto, eventually locking behind his neck as if he's your lifeline.

“are we seriously gonna fuck in your car?” you gasp, your words shaky when he pulls away just enough to start trailing hot kisses down the side of your neck. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, drawing him closer.

“no,” he breathes and sucks on a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing the skin before he soothes it with a slow lick. “just couldn’t stop myself,” he admits, voice low and breathy, and then his mouth is back on yours, devouring you with a hunger that makes your head spin.

your hands move restlessly over his broad shoulders, wanting to feel more, wishing his clothes were gone so you could touch him everywhere.

his hands roam your body like he's memorizing it, fingers pressing into the curves of your waist, teasingly brushing against your chest. each touch has you arching into him, wishing he'd just tear your clothes apart already.

it's all too good.

too overwhelming, and before you know it, five minutes have passed with the two of you tangled in each other. when he finally pulls back, panting, his lips are swollen and glistening. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath, both of you staring at each other in the dim light of the car.

he’s leaning back slightly, his hard on pressing against your thigh. it’s impossible not to notice how turned on he is, and it only makes your own arousal spike.

you're so fucking wet right now.

you’re laid back on the seat, eyes locked on him, watching the way he runs a hand through his disheveled hair, pushing it back revealing his forehead.

“hotel? or my place?” he asks, trying to catch his breath “hotel’s just a minute away, but my place… well, it’s a bit further.”

you can practically see the options laid out in your mind like a checklist.

a) go to the hotel, have your fun, and slip away without looking back. no strings, no regrets. just a quick fuck and disappear like it never happened.

b) go to his place, let him fuck the shit out of you, see if he’s worth all this heat between your thighs. maybe wake up in his bed with his arms still wrapped around you... and if he's good enough, maybe get his number so it doesn’t have to be a one time thing.

you bite your lip, your decision already made before you even realize it.

“yours.”

the drive to his apartment is quick, the tension between you both barely held back. you're glad it’s late at night, because the two of you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other and you don't want anyone witnessing it.

the second you step into his apartment, the door slams shut behind you, and it's a scramble to rid each other of clothing. shirts are yanked off, belts undone, pants shoved down until you're both stumbling towards his bedroom in a mess of heated kisses and needy touches.

“o-oh fuck—yes baby, suck it just like that,” jungkook throws his head back, moaning, his breath ragged. he’s sprawled on the bed, legs spread wide, hands gripping the sheets. you're on your knees between his thighs, sucking him hard, your lips stretching around his thick length.

you glance up at him, eyes half lidded, watching the way his abs flex as he tries to keep himself steady. “shit... you look so fucking hot,” he rasps out, voice rough. his gaze darkens, and he pushes himself up, one hand threading through your hair.

“can you take it, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

you know exactly what he’s asking. you nod, barely managing it with your mouth full, and he smiles, almost wickedly, his eyes gleaming.

“good,” he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough on your hair. “tap me if it’s too much.” and with that, he starts moving his hips, fucking into your mouth with slow, deep thrusts.

you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, but you relax your throat, trying to take him in. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of him moving in and out, his groans echoing off the walls.

“fuck—you’re taking me so well, baby,” he praises, his voice thick and raspy, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. each time his cock hits the back of your throat, it forces a choked gasp from him, his hands instinctively tightening in your hair.

your eyes water, tears pooling at your lashes, but you don’t stop, even as your throat aches. your nails dig into his firm thighs, using them for balance as he fucks your throat. you want to show him just how much you can handle.

“i’m gonna—” he grunts, voice rough and strained. a hot burst of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow it all, not breaking eye contact with him for a second. his chest heaves as he watches you, mesmerized, as your tongue slides slowly along his length, cleaning up every drop. his jaw clenches, the sight clearly driving him wild.

“get up,” he orders, voice still a little breathless, and you obey instantly, letting him pull you to your feet. “on the bed, all fours.”

you get onto the mattress, positioning yourself as he asked. there's a moment of stillness as you feel his gaze roam over your exposed body. your heart races, anticipation building as you wait for his next move.

“you’re dripping,” he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath is hot against your soaked core. he licks a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, and your eyes flutter shut, a soft, breathy moan escaping your lips. his mouth envelops your pussy, sucking and licking with an rhythm that makes your thighs tremble.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath before moving up, positioning himself between your legs. his right hand trails upward, skimming over your skin until his fingers brush against your lips.

instinctively, you part them, taking his fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them. the low chuckle that escapes him tells you just how much he enjoys it.

“you like that, hm?” he asks. you moan softly around his fingers, your response muffled but desperate.

he withdraws his fingers, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. leaning down, he wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you slightly until your back is against his chest. you can feel his length pressing against your ass, you move your hips a little causing a little friction.

his hands slide over your breasts, kneading them with just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

you melt into his touch, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his fingers pinch and roll your hardened nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“want me to fuck you, baby?” his voice is soft against your shoulder as he places feather light kisses along your skin. he nips gently, his hands never stopping their teasing, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes when his fingers pinch just a bit harder.

“y-yes,” you mewl, voice shaky with need, “fuck me, jungkook.”

he squeezes your breasts harder, a groan rumbling from his chest as he sinks his teeth lightly into the curve of your shoulder.

“yeah? can i fuck you raw?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

“yes,” you gasp, your voice barely more than a whimper. “p-please.”

his grip on you loosens slightly, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes dark, like he's stopping himself. “you sure?” he asks, one last time, his tone gentle but urgent.

you nod quickly, breathless. “i’m on the pill,” you assure him, and the tension in his shoulders eases.

“fuck. okay, bend over.”

without hesitation, you resume your previous position, arching your back and presenting yourself to him. he groans softly at the sight, his hand sliding down to rub slow circles over your entrance.

he teases you, slipping a finger inside, making you moan softly as your walls flutter around him. he withdraws his finger, watching the way you clench around nothing, desperate for more.

grabbing his cock, he taps the swollen tip against your slick hole. you whine, impatience leaking into your voice, “just fuck me already.”

a smirk curves his lips, and without another word, he pushes into you.

you grip the sheets tightly as you take him in fully, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length. a choked gasp escapes your lips, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious burn that quickly morphs into pleasure.

each inch fills you so completely, leaving you breathless, your body trembling at the feeling.

“fuck,” he groans behind you, his voice low and rough, a sound that makes your toes curl. “you’re so tight, baby... taking me so fucking good.” the words are almost a growl, filled with barely restrained control as he fights the urge to pound into you.

his hands move to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave marks, steadying himself as he sinks even deeper.

your moans spill freely now, raw and needy, muffled slightly by the pillow you bury your face into. he starts to move, slowly at first, pulling out just enough before thrusting back in, his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside you.

the rhythm is torturously slow, each stroke making you whimper, your back arching even further in a silent plea for more.

“please... more,” you manage to gasp out, your voice shaky. “jungkook, i need it.. need you.”

“yeah?” he rasps, picking up the pace, thrusts becoming sharper, each one driving you into the mattress. “want it harder, baby? want me to ruin you?”

“yes.. yes mmph- more!” you cry, your voice breaking as he slams into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. your nails claw at the sheets, the friction of his hips against your ass making stars dance behind your eyelids.

his fingers snake around to your front, finding your swollen clit, and he rubs it in tight, quick circles. your entire body jolts, your hips bucking back against him as you let out a loud, broken moan.

“oh, fuck, that’s it, that's a good fucking girl,” he hisses, feeling you clench around him, your walls fluttering as you near the edge.

“you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls against your ear, bending over you now, his hot breath fanning against your neck. he bites down on your shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to drive you wild.

“you're gonna cum like the good girl you are?”

“yes n-ngh.. i’m close.. s-so close,” you whimper, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. his fingers press harder against your clit, his thrusts turning frantic.

“cum with me, baby” he demands, his voice thick and commanding. that’s all it takes. your body shatters. your vision going white as you scream his name. your walls squeeze him so tightly, milking his cock, and with a deep, guttural groan, he loses himself too, spilling inside you as his thrusts grow sloppy.

he stays buried inside you, his chest heaving against your back, both of you panting heavily. he leans down to press soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.

after everything that just happened. you've made up your mind.

you're definitely going to ask for his number.

a/n: erm.. don't get into random strangers cars !! haha

[brittle-doughie]

Hi Brittle-doughie, sorry for bothering you. I'm pretty sure I sent this once, but If this has been asked before you can delete this.

Every relationship isn't perfect. There's bound to be some challenges.

How would Golden Cheese Cookie, Nutmeg Tiger Cookie, and Smoked Cheese Cookie apologize to their lover after an argument?

Apologies, Apologies (Nutmeg Tiger, Golden Cheese, and Smoked Cheese Cookie)

It was hard for Nutmeg Tiger Cookie, getting used to a different kind of life here in the Cookie Kingdom, where it was complete peace and quiet compared to the tough terrain of the spice desert she was used to.

She hadn’t completely lost all of her previous habits, insulting and shouting at cookies whom she considered beneath her in strength. Which leads to the fight you two have, she didn’t understand why you were defending these bumbling fools that wouldn’t even survive for long if they can’t fight!

She does come around eventually and apologizes after much hesitation. She’s just not used to this change in scenery when she’s been a warrior that valued strength above all else for so long, she’d hate to spit on your trust and care for her with her behavior. She’ll do what she can to adjust herself, but she can’t do it without you.

Golden Cheese Cookie was not budging on any suggestions to move the souls of her treasures somewhere else, they were perfectly fine where they were and she refused to put them at any risk. What if there was an accident and she loses one of her people in the process!? What were you even suggesting!?

You tried to reassure her that the vault concept you had was something planned for a while, you just wanted to give Golden Cheese that extra security that her subjects would be safe from any threats that would come to the kingdom. Golden Cheese didn’t want to hear it and demanded that you leave her alone…

She does deeply regret it once she’s calmed down, you were only trying to help in keeping her citizens’ souls safe. The Secret Vault is built and Golden Cheese spends every waking moment apologizing profusely, she didn’t mean to raise her voice towards her dearest treasure…

You had trusted Golden Cheese Cookie with the kingdom, much to Smoked Cheese Cookie’s irritation. Didn’t you see that another war was upon you all, and Golden Cheese doesn’t want to do a thing about it!

It was a source of arguments where you try to convince Smoked that Golden Cheese Cookie wouldn’t let anyone down, but he didn’t see it that way. If you didn’t want to see it his way, then so be it. He can do this on his own…

It only takes his defeat for him to fully realize what he had done. He expected you to leave him, but that wasn’t in your nature to just abandon him over a petty argument. He’ll call you a fool for being so forgiving…his wonderful fool…

He quietly shares his apologies to you as you two hold each other close together. He didn’t want to be crumbled again, and he didn’t want to be crumbled…alone.

[peachofu]

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ missin’ you 2.3k

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

contains: 18+ smut, explicit language, dirty talk, f and m masturbation, fingering, swearing, brief scent kink, brief mention of pain, multiple orgasms, made with origins!logan in mind, set in late 1970s.

the days were stretching longer as each passed, tedious tasks that distracted you from the distance no longer keeping you occupied.

it had been around three weeks since logan had departed for a mission. he claimed that it was something he had to do, and you didn’t interfere due to his adamance. he stood firmly on getting a job done, no matter the risks, which only made it so much harder for you.

logan hadn’t disclosed the details to you, despite you being the only person he trusts. he was always aloof when you questioned him about his missions, dismissing the conversation with a grumble or quickly switching to another topic.

so you gave up on asking, letting him do what he was so headstrong on doing, regardless of the ache in your heart as you watched him leave. not knowing when or if he was going to return.

-

another restless night approached after a day filled with unwontedly familiar longing. you had slipped into an evening routine, one that brought you an ounce of peace through the distress. it kept you tranquil for a while, focusing on repetitive things like making dinner or engrossing yourself in a book before bed.

you slipped beneath the chill sheets, the lack of a brawny frame to warm you up once again sending a soft huff of dismay from your lips. the bedroom was silent, as it had been for the past few weeks yet you still hadn’t adjusted to it. you refused to.

“god,” you muttered, cupping your face and sighing heavily.

the absence of contact from logan was getting more worrying by the day, and as much as you tried to avoid it, the uncertainty was eating away at you. his missions had never lasted this long, possibly a couple days at most.

constantly feeling on edge led to things worsening, like waking up in the night with nightmares just like logan did. he wouldn’t want that for you. so you stayed optimistic, dismissing the cluster of dreadful thoughts that wavered in your mind.

you reached over the bedside table, fingertips grazing over the pull chain before a ringing sound reverberated around the bedroom. your gaze fixed onto the phone, eyes skeptically surveying over the keypad for a few seconds.

you were taught to always pick up the phone, incase of emergency, but it was almost midnight and you certainly weren’t in the mood for an urgency. but due to the consistent ringing, you reluctantly reached down to pick up the handset, settling it between your ear and shoulder.

“hello?” the words left your lips in a exhausted whisper, voice strained and almost impertinent. but that couldn’t be helped, you had only one thing weighing on your mind, another was unnecessary.

your words were met with ragged breaths from the other end, a sound that you instantaneously recognised.

“logan? is…is that you?” you stammered, eyes wide as you sat up, completely immersed in expecting a reply.

before he replied, the breathing paused for a beat, tension rising rapidly as you began to yearn for a response.

“yeah, darlin’. it’s me,” he finally answered, his voice still retaining its usual huskiness that always put you at ease.

you let out a gentle, breathy exhale of pure relief, a smile spreading over your face. your features twitched indecisively for a few seconds, the overwhelming feeling of consolation consuming you whole.

“i’m—sorry i didn’t call,” he murmured, breaking the momentary silence between you, “things got outta hand. didn’t want you worrying ‘bout me.”

his voice was deep, carrying that standard resonance which you had pined for everyday. to hear his voice after what felt like an eternity filled you with warmth. even with this brief occurrence, despite not being able to see him, touch him, it was enough.

“well you failed at that,” you retorted in a whisper, eyebrows slightly raised as you leaned back against the pillow.

logan let out a low, almost inaudible chuckle in response. the pert tone in your voice never failed to amuse him, especially now. he was well aware of what you were referring to, guilt beginning to creep up into his conscience.

the mission had been rough, sending an array of conflicted emotions his way throughout the process. being away from you for such an unbearable amount of time filled him with anguish, dealing with those emotions didn’t alleviate that.

“yeah, guess i did,” he muttered, a tinge of regret lingering in his tone, “i’m sorry, darlin’. wasn’t fair to leave you in the dark like that.”

another pause filled the line, thick with every left unspoken between the two of you. he could feel the distance between you as much as he could feel the roughness of his own scars. but the sound of your voice was something he had coveted more than he wanted to admit.

“i miss ya,” he said finally, the words a simple gesture of affection but they carried emotion that he rarely revealed to you, “more than anything. you know that?”

your heart swelled with an unmistakable hankering for him, one that you had never experienced before. you wanted no more than to be in his arms again, for him to whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you embraced each other.

“mhm,” you hummed, finger absentmindedly twisting around the phone cord as his voice echoed through your head.

then came another pause, but the mood had shifted, a distinctive tension passing through the line. the momentary penitence that logan had felt was still present, but it wasn’t the prominent thought in his mind.

“never stopped thinkin’ about you,” he spoke again, voice trailing off into a quiet murmur. you both knew where this was heading, but it was unknown territory.

“just ask me what i’m wearing,” you whispered encouragingly, a roguish smile crossing your face.

“what’re you wearing, darlin’?”

the words sent a shiver down your spine, faint puffs of breath leaving your lips as you reached out to peel the silk duvet off your reclined form.

“one of your shirts,” you whispered, fingertips brushing against each button of his flannel.

you had plucked the shirt from the laundry basket earlier today, enveloping yourself in the heady, manly scent. wearing his flannels to bed had become a ritual for comfort, which came to be incredibly fortunate.

“nothing underneath,” you followed on, fingertips running up and down the thin fabric.

logan let out a low growl in rejoinder, his jeans tightening as the image of you wearing nothing but his flannel flooded through his mind. he felt a fleeting note of shame from getting aroused so quickly, but you always had that effect on him, there was no benefit in denying it.

“is that so?” he spoke, his voice dropping an obvious octave.

his free hand snaked down towards his belt, unbuckling it with a deft precision. the soft metallic clink of the prong releasing resounded across the line, the vivid picture of logan freeing his erection from the confines of his boxers sending warmth through your body.

“wish you were here to help me, baby,” he murmured, his voice now a sultry tone.

there was an unequivocal tremble in your breath as his words registered, his sultry tone sending heat directly towards your core. you squeezed your legs together gently, your inner thighs slick with arousal.

“touch yourself for me, baby. give me something to keep me goin’ until i get back,” logan commanded serenely, the underlying hunger in his voice betraying his true intentions.

“okay,” you whispered, obliging to his order almost immediately due to the growing ache between your legs.

your hand glided down the plane of your chest and down your midriff, slowly dipping beneath the hem of logan’s flannel. you adjusted yourself against the mattress, parting your legs slightly and reposing into the pillows.

the handset was still fitted between your head and shoulder, causing your neck to strain scarcely. but you paid no mind to that, gradually working your hand down towards your glistening folds, moist with anticipation.

“god…” you suppressed a moan, your lower lip slipped between your teeth to silence yourself.

“c’mon, don’t hold out on me. i wanna hear all those pretty little moans,” logan whispered, tugging down his jeans and yanking his boxers down slightly.

he freed his pulsing erection, thick veins running along the shaft, stopping at his glossy tip. he grasped the handset firmly in one hand, leaking cock in the other. his calloused palm added a partial bit of extra friction, already causing his ragged breaths to huff heavier.

your fingers finally came into contact with your soaked pussy, a quick gasp escaping your lips at the sudden connection. your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, adjusting to the feeling of your fingers working their way over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“f-fuck…logan,” you moaned, beginning to set a rhythmic circling motion around your clit.

the sound of his name elicited from your lips like that was enough to make him come undone. his grip tightened on the handset, his other hand sliding up and down his length at a slow pace. his jaw tensed, pleasure sparking through his lower half as he jerked himself off.

“that’s it, baby…lemme hear ya,” logan cooed, proceeding to work his hand against his length, pre-cum beading at the tip.

his words sent you into a moaning frenzy, your hips bucking up against your fingers as they continued their stimulating assault. your mind was solely focused on imagining logan beside you, picturing that they were his fingers instead of yours.

“fuck,” he groaned, uneven breaths leaving his lips as he picked up the pace, the pleasure building up at a rapid pace. the sound of your moans drove him unruly, his mind painted with how you looked. all sprawled out on the bed, cheeks rosy and fingers slick with your fluids.

the two of you simultaneously pleasured yourselves, the delicious cocktail of moans mixing together. all of the built up longing was being appeased, a temporary distraction from the distance between you both.

“feels s’good,” you uttered, opening your eyes to glance down at your fingers and the arousal that coated them.

you swallowed thickly, gnawing at your bottom lip as you prodded one against your entrance. you brows furrowed at the sensation, jaw slacking as you slowly slipped your finger inside. the intrusion took a few seconds to adapt to, before you decided to add another.

“logan!” you whined, another digit sinking into your tight channel.

logan’s whole body tensed at the sound of your voice switching to a higher pitch, a grunt escaping through his gritted teeth. he fisted his cock quicker, knuckles repeatedly grazing against the coarse hair at his base. his hand was slick with pre-cum, eyebrows upturned in bliss with every pump of his hand.

“that’s right, darlin’. so good for me,” he spoke breathlessly, clearly nearing the edge of release as he struggled to choke out the words.

goosebumps travelled up your body as you began to piston your digits in and out of your hole, the sound of his voice urging you on even further. the lewd sound of your fingers penetrating your tight hole filled the room, so audible that even logan could hear it. he let out a guttural groan in response, using all of his strength to refrain himself from cumming right there and then.

“need you, lo,” you cried, drool wetting your lips as they parted even wider.

“fuck, baby, i’m right here. focus on my voice,” he mandated hoarsely, stifling a guttural moan as he thrusted into his hand, pre-cum dribbling down his knuckles.

“you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t ya? you gonna listen to me?”

arousal dripped onto the under-sheet as you continued your movements, curling your fingers into a beckoning motion. tears pricked at your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, fingers plunging in and out of your taut hole.

“y-yes…i’m gonna cum,” you babbled, sporadic moans leaving your lips.

logan felt his orgasm approaching, his pace speeding up against his twitching cock, eager for that sweet release. he grunted softly, that familiar tension coiling low in his abdomen. his jaw slacked, his sealed clutch on the handset almost destroying it from how strong it was.

“cum for me, baby. make a mess for me,” he exhorted through a groan, feeding onto his approaching release with the faint sounds of your pussy and the sultry moans escaping your lips.

you relentlessly pumped your fingers into your aching hole, fingers gripping the silk under-sheet beneath you. the handset was still slotted between your head and shoulder, digging into your cheek. but the subtle pain mixed with the intense pleasure only pushed your further, hips jolting upwards as you felt your stomach tightening.

“f-fuck!” you shouted, your climax crashing over you at an intense force. your eyes turned white for a brief second, slipping back into your head as ecstasy rippled over your body in repeated motions.

logan came just a few seconds after you, bucking up into his hand as hot ropes of his seed spurted all over his abdomen, “f-fuckin’ christ…shit,” he rasped, shaky breaths escaping his lips as his motions slowed, milking his cock for all its worth.

your juices coated your fingers, glistening beneath the dim lighting of the bedroom. you slowly pulled them out of your channel, sighing heavily at the sudden emptiness. your chest rose and fell in exasperation, the aftershocks of the orgasm completely stilling you.

logan basked in the silence for a moment, staring down at the gluey mess of cum dribbling down his knuckles and onto his waistline, coating the coarse hair just below his pelvis.

“guess the wait was worth it then, huh?” logan finally spoke, chuckling breathlessly.

[darkintrinsic]

Devil's Night | Bad Omens

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

One day I woke up and wanted to be chased to the sound of Milagre.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X Female!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. It's devil's night and you've been invited to play. If you don't get caught by them, you win..

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). Foul language, alcohol consumption, masked men, stalking, reverse harem, why choose, taking turns, explicit sex, fear games, submission.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Devil’s Night.

The first time she heard those words, thought it was just another excuse for parties and excess, but here, in Detroit, it’s different. People speak of this night as if it were a tradition, passed down from generation to generation, almost like a silent pact that no one dares to question.

Yes, it’s Halloween Eve, but it carries a taste of danger that goes beyond costumes and carved pumpkins. It’s not about trick-or-treating; it’s more like… a rite of passage, where each person lets their dark side surface, testing their own limits and those of others. And the entire city, somehow, agrees to turn a blind eye to what happens in the shadows.

In the alleys and empty hallways, you can feel something waiting, hidden between the walls and beneath the fog that stubbornly refuses to lift. The seniors, of course, love it. They create challenges, make absurd promises to the freshmen, as if they’re initiating them into some ancient secret. But it’s not a secret; it’s more like a warning.

I don’t know exactly who started it—maybe some group many years ago, looking for a way to release their frustrations, or perhaps the city already came with this curse built in. But, either way, everyone participates, whether in the role of the observers or those who get lost in the night.

You were about to leave home, dressed up for another Devil’s Night in Detroit. Your friends had invited you over to drink a little before heading to the Lions' party, the fraternity responsible for the highest concentration of players that night. At first, you were ready to turn down the invitation, wanting to go straight to the celebration and get it over with once and for all, but seeing the flyer advertising the Geordin’s pub attraction made you change your mind.

Bad Omens was the main act in an intimate show, and you felt a bit excited to know they were back in town. It had been a while since you last saw them—if you weren’t mistaken, on the last Devil’s Night.

"Don’t tell me you’re not even a little excited to see him again…" Ash nudged your ribs with a playful voice, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"They’ve grown so much since the last time I saw them, Ash. They definitely have no idea who I am."

"And what if I told you that’s not exactly true?" Ashley’s glittering eyes blinked behind her long lashes as if she had some valuable information. She rested her hands and phone under her chin while watching you finish getting ready in the mirror. "I messaged Steve; we chat sometimes, and when he told me he’d be in town, I didn’t fail to mention your name…"

"I can’t believe you did that!"

"I scored us four VIPs tonight thanks to my shamelessness. No need to thank me, babe!" Ash winked and blew a kiss at her own shoulder, ignoring when you rolled your eyes at her boldness.

You didn’t want to admit it, but a strange sensation was building up in your stomach, making you feel cold with every step you took out the door. According to your friends, you looked good enough to draw a crowd to your feet, and deep down, you hoped they were right.

Geordin’s was, as always, sweltering, packed, and filled with people dressed up in Halloween costumes. You were just in a short black dress and heavy makeup—this date was special, a night for vixens to leave their homes in their smallest outfits, best heels, and bold eyes to be, for one night, what they longed to be all year.

At the bar, you grabbed a drink and walked with your friends to the VIP area near the stage. With each minute closer to the performance, your stomach grew colder, while your friends chatted excitedly beside you, never quieting for a moment. It had been a long time since you last saw him, and you tried your best not to expect him to remember any fragment of the past Devil’s Night.

“Welcome to the show of bad omens, my friends,” said the recorded voice from the speakers, making the crowd go wild.

The lights went out, and your body froze in place as the intro to the first song began. His voice was still unmistakable and unique, pleasing to the ear, even live, weaving together with the guitar and drum solos as if they were one.

When you turned to the stage, Noah was gripping the microphone with his eyes closed, and you allowed yourself to take in the melody, singing along with all your heart as you remembered why this was your favorite band. At the end of the third song, he glanced over the crowd as if looking for something, seeming about to give up, until his eyes finally landed on you.

A jolt of electricity surged from your legs, coursing through your entire body. Noah gave a brief smile and bowed his head, waiting for the next song’s intro. You knew the setlist, and this wasn’t one of the songs played at previous shows. In fact, you recognized it instantly; it was your favorite track.

Careful What You Wish For hadn’t been played in recent shows, but he knew how much that song meant to you, and he’d included it in Detroit just to show that he did, indeed, remember you. Something damp threatened to pool in your tear ducts; this song reminded you of moments you’d rather forget, moments the band had made more bearable to face.

As the final song ended, the lights went out, and the guys left the stage to the applause of the crowd. Your heart was still racing from the mix of emotions caused not only by the show, but by the series of subtle glances he had thrown your way during the pauses between songs. You bit your lip gently, gripping your glass a bit tighter, wondering if it could be a sign.

But you quickly brushed off that foolish thought and shook your head, dismissing it.

You and your friends finally arrived at the fraternity party, and all of you, including yourself, were buzzing with excitement to start the real celebration. Everyone was in costume, music was blasting, the smell of marijuana filled the air, and alcohol was flowing freely.

It seemed like the perfect night.

“I wouldn’t recommend drinking too much,” Ash warned, pointing at your glass as you sipped the colorful drink through a straw. “The games start in a few minutes, and you won’t want to be throwing up during the hunt.”

You laughed, remembering what happened last year when you mixed a few drinks with cheesy snacks, resulting in a puddle of vomit that took you home before you even considered playing the traditional hunt.

Every year on Devil’s Night, the Lions held a hunt in the Shadow Woods. The game involved all the guests being released into the forest, blindly searching to capture as many targets as they could until they reached the other side. With no flashlights or any source of light, identifying anyone became nearly impossible as everyone wore masks to hide their faces.

A certain chill lingered in your stomach, and a tremor in your legs threatened to shake your confidence, but you preferred to think it was because of the drink, not the fear of who your potential hunter might be. Your mind raced through quick strategies to avoid being caught, though not knowing the Shadow Woods at night made it all the more difficult.

With your feet firm on the earthy ground, you were as ready as the other competitors. You looked around, feeling adrenaline pulse through your veins, filling your brain like a song made to build tension until reaching its peak. You felt ready for whatever the night had to offer.

The whistle blew.

Your legs pushed you forward, running as fast as you could, straining your vision to dodge trees and jump over branches. You listened closely to the sound of dry leaves and twigs that snapped underfoot as the predators ran. All of them were desperate, hungry in their hunt for prey. At the same time, it felt frightening; it was exhilarating enough to make you push for more speed.

Energized, you glanced over your shoulder now and then, trying to detect any approaching threat, but as you pressed on, you heard fewer footsteps. Breathless, you slowed down and marked the trees with your fingers as you continued to walk carefully.

Your steps froze in place when you suddenly heard heavy breathing. The footsteps behind you moved over the dry leaves, signaling that your hunter was approaching stealthily, like a snake. Slowly, you realized your feet didn’t obey the commands in your head—they wanted to keep running, but your body remained there, unmoving.

He knew there was no point in running. He knew you were lost. He knew you didn’t want to go anywhere.

“Good girl.” His voice whispered close to your ear, making you jump in shock. “You didn’t let anyone else catch you. You waited for us like a good girl.”

“She knew that no matter where she hid tonight, we’d find her.”

“We always find you…”

Through your peripheral vision, you counted all four of them, gathered in balaclavas, closing off any way out. Swallowing dryly, you felt your breathing falter as they each took a step closer, forming a claustrophobic barrier around you.

“Now you’re ours.” Noah’s voice echoed in your ear as you felt the fabric of his balaclava graze your cheek. “Once you lose the game, you become our prize.”

A brief jolt made you sit upright when you felt something wrapping around your wrists; he was tying your hands together with a rope. The remaining length of material was used to fasten another knot around your neck, this time slightly tighter.

In your mind, there was no room for doubt, because you remembered the main rule of Devil’s Night. You were free to make your desires real for one night.

Why not surrender to them?

Slowly, Noah pulled you along the length of the leash, and stumbling a little in your own steps, you followed him. He exuded a scent of sweat mixed with Savage cologne; his arms were exposed by the black tank top, and he wore cargo pants and boots. Each determined step he took made you tense up, fearing what was to come, and the walls in the form of men surrounding you added to your apprehension.

Your steps halted when the tall man pulling your collar from the front froze in place. The forest offered little light, and thanks to the moonlight filtering through the gaps in the trees, you could see the intricate tattoo designs on his back, partly covered by his tank top.

A breath, subtle but present, brushed your ears with warm breath from behind.

"How about a game?" Folio’s voice was so soft it seemed to dance at a unique frequency. "We’ll ask a question, and for each wrong answer, you lose a piece of clothing."

"A game is only interesting to me if both parties are involved. In that case, what do I get if I’m right?" You dared to respond, challenging him with a side glance.

"Don’t act as if you don’t like the idea of not being in control for a few hours…" Folio taunted, stepping closer with a deadly step. His body was too close this time. "All you desire is for the reins to be in someone else's hands, just for one night, someone who knows your dirty mind well enough so you don’t have to spell out what you need. Am I wrong?"

You weren’t afraid of anything and made a point to shake your head in defiance.

"Wrong answer."

"Not at all!" you contested without much conviction. Deep down, defying him and contradicting yourself with feigned reluctance was part of your game.

The cold wind touched your back just as one of their fingers slid the zipper of your dress down, exposing your bare skin. Slowly, you felt the fabric glide down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever it passed.

You shrank a little, feeling a hint of discomfort when you noticed several pairs of eyes observing your exposed form, but a tug on the leash immediately made you lift your chin.

"Don’t you dare lower your head, darling" another voice murmured as a finger traced along your chin, the wetness of a tongue brushing against the skin of your ear. "Not when you have a body like this. We can savor you without even touching. Consider yourself a goddess, displayed for adoration and worship."

Gently, he slid his hand from your chin to reach your cold-stiffened nipples, slow circular movements warming your thighs as Jolly’s voice stimulated you, his hands exploring your body without any rush.

They wanted you to surrender.

Indeed, you were already theirs.

For just one night, you belonged to them.

In front of you, Noah watched you with a tilted head, as if watching an intimate moment of pleasure was amusing to him. He wrapped the excess of the leash around his hands until it tightened, lifting your neck up toward him.

In one last visceral glance, Noah pressed his lips against yours.

A fierce kiss, charged with desire pent up since the last visit, filling every corner of your mouth, leaving you wanting for absolutely nothing. Between breaths, you let out a contained, low moan as those hands moved from your chest down to your hips.

His fingers, when they found your entrance, sent a current of electricity through the rest of your body. Jolly was warm and soft as a rose petal, he tortured you with the slowness of his synchronized movements on your clitoris and during the kiss you held Noah's lips between your teeth gasping a heavy moan.

Noah smiled, feeling how his body twitched in his friend's hands, he released his lips and dragged them down his face, allowing his moan to reverberate through his ears more clearly.

Just when you were about to give signs that you were going to collapse under Jolly's fingers they suddenly stopped. You panted and wanted to show that you were disappointed, but you didn't have time, Noah pulled you by the collar and turned you so that you were facing away from him. A quick scream escaped your lips at the surprise of the impact of your hips against his, you felt his bulge harden and let out some air through your nose.

A soft hand ran its thumb over her face, a caress similar to the one she felt on her ass as Noah explored her. At the same time they used their thumbs, Noah lifted your dress until you were completely exposed to prepare you, he dipped his fingers in your wetness and seemed to delight in it. Their eyes were fixed on the man before them, gently brushing strands of hair away from his face and lifting his chin.

“Good girl, good girl.” he whispered, sliding his thumb into your mouth, without breaking eye contact, you sucked his finger slowly until you reached the tip.

You watched as Folio grunted and finished sliding his cock into his free hand and bringing it closer to your face, passing it across your lips slowly. You moaned from containing the desire to take him in at once, and from having Noah playing with his head at your entrance in rotating movements. Little by little you relaxed and used your tongue to greet him and a smile formed on your lips when you saw him sigh once again.

Folio grabbed your hair with a little force and demonstrating that the provocation had made him lose his mind, he shoved his dick into your mouth at the same time as Noah entered you. Your screams were silenced by Folio's cock, you used your tongue to drool all over the compliment and without the help of your hands that were trapped you covered his head with the roof of your mouth. As you sucked him, you felt Noah bump his hips against yours in strong thrusts, pulling the collar from your neck each time he penetrated and stopped with his rigid member inside you.

Your legs shook from the force he used, you pressed him against the walls of your pussy and heard him mutter yet another curse due to the lack of space. Her head didn't stop for a single second, going down and up, sucking Folio's cock while he helped her with his hand in her hair.

With each of Noah's thrusts, you felt Folio's cock tear into your throat and you dedicated yourself to not leaving a single space without the contact of your tongue. He pressed your head down more and you enjoyed the taste of the skin trying to contain the entire volume. Noah grew harder and harder inside you and in an explosion of sensations for a few seconds your legs seemed to float.

This was the effect of the devil’s night.

It allowed you to fulfill even your darkest fantasy.

For one night.

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 15

MASTERLIST

An hour after the hour-long ride from Josh’s house, Delilah was still perambulating around town, her mind filled with everything that she was going to say to Andre. She tried to anticipate his every reaction, mentally preparing herself for anything he could throw at her. What she would do if he cried. What she would do if he yelled. What she’d do if he even became violent. Yesterday in his gym, Josh had taught her a chokehold that she could take down people twice her size with, in the ring and in real life. She even came up with a plan for handling his stoic silence. All bases needed to be covered for a decision this monumental.

But before all that, she made a call to her sister, Simone, to ask if she was home. She needed to talk to her first before anyone else. Her friend and co-worker, Tiwa would be at Simone’s too, as she was the babysitter to CJ, Delilah’s three-year-old nephew. Her mother would also be contacted on FaceTime, so Delilah would be killing several birds with one stone.

It was a somber affair, breaking the news to her family. Over a plate of Simone’s comfort food and a pitcher of Clay’s (Simone’s husband) “famous” iced tea, with Grace on the other end of Simone’s iPad propped up on the kitchen table, Delilah sat them all down and laid out everything that had happened with Andre and Josh and what her plans were. As she unburdened herself, the gravity of what was happening to her life began to dawn on her for the first time maybe since this whole thing started. Overcome with emotion, the tears began to fall as she came to terms with the end of her life as she knew it, which included a decade of devotion to the boy she’d loved since she was a teenager. 

Simone and Tiwa sat on either side of her, the latter handing her a tissue, their embrace warm and comforting, their expressions surprisingly understanding. However, her mother did not share the same empathy, and watching her eyes fill with disappointment through the iPad sank Delilah’s heart. 

Grace frowned. “Child, what on earth are you doing?” 

Dabbing her eyes, Delilah shook her head, refusing to be deterred by the negativity. Not this time. “Something I should have done long ago, Mama. Andre and I’s relationship has been falling apart and I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

“From everything you’ve just said, you’re the reason y‘all are falling apart. You were unfaithful to him and threw away a stable life for some…wrestler,” Grace scolded, ever judgmental. “And you've not even told him! This is ungodly behavior from you, Delilah.”

“Mama, stop,” Simone cut in, “What’s happened has happened. Let’s just be there for her and-”

“I do not accept that, Simone. Your sister is behaving like a child.  Your daddy and I did not raise either of you to be so reckless and irresponsible! If he was here-”

“If he was here, he would have supported me no matter what!” Delilah finished for her, more tears falling as the mental and physical exhaustion of telling her truth took its toll. “All I ever wanted since my wrestling journey began was your support and Andre’s, Mama, but neither of you gave it to me and I ended up finding it somewhere else.” Wiping her eyes again, she shook her head, determined to get her point across. “I never meant for this to happen and I’m sorry that it's going to hurt Andre in the process. But I’m not sorry I met Joshua. Ultimately, he helped me reach my goal and I’m forever grateful to him. I don’t expect you to understand. I’m a grown woman, and the decisions I’ve made thus far are mine and mine alone.”

Grace tsked, her nose turned up at the absurdity of this situation. “You have so much to learn about life, my dear daughter. It’s a shame you chose to learn the hard way.” With that, she ended the call, the screen returning abruptly to CJ's grinning face that made up Simone’s Home Screen. 

Blowing out a shaky breath, Delilah pushed away the plate in front of her, feeling sick to her stomach. “Well…that went well,” she murmured sarcastically.

Tiwa rubbed her shoulder and rested her head on the other one. “It’s okay, Dee. She’ll come around.”

“She never comes around,” Delilah scoffed. Her mother was stubborn and strong headed and stuck to her ‘principles’ no matter how flawed and traditionalist they were.

“I’ll make sure she does,” Simone promised, peering closely at her little sister. “You do understand why she’s acting out, right? She’s just worried and wants the best for you professionally and personally.” Simone had the same concerns as her mother, adding to her disapproval of this love triangle her sister had deposited herself in. But the last thing Delilah needed right now was more scolding. “Tell you what, whatever happens with you and Andre, I’ll make the guest room available for you. You can stay here until your move to Orlando. I know CJ will be happy to have his auntie around.”

Letting her big sister’s words sink in, Delilah smiled a watery smile, grateful that she had someone’s unconditional support in whatever she decided. “Thank you.”

“You never need to thank me for anything, Lilah Girl. By the way, what does this Josh boy even look like? I wanna see what the fuss is all about.”

Tiwa swooned and made a show of fanning herself. “Sis, he is six different kinds of fine.”

“For real? Lilah, let me see!”

Chuckling softly, Delilah opened up her phone and found one of his photos with his newly won Intercontinental championship belt. Simone did a double take. “Damn, girl! Tiwa’s right. He’s gorgeous! Do he got brothers? Asking for a friend of course.”

“It better be for a friend,” Clay chimed in from the living room, making them all laugh. “Of course, baby, I'm asking for Tiwa over here!” Simone joked.

Leaving her sister’s home feeling just a modicum better about herself, Delilah reluctantly made her way back to reality. The closer she got to her trailer home though, the confidence diminished and the butterflies in her stomach increased as she struggled to get her emotions in check.

What she was about to do, the words she was about to say, would signal the end of the only romantic relationship she had ever known. She was about to put a definite end to the only life she was familiar with and launch herself face-first into a completely daunting one that she, for all intents and purposes, knew very little about in the first place. It had nothing to do with Josh, and very little to do with Andre. This was about Delilah finally doing something for herself, something she should have done long ago.

If she was honest, she was glad that Andre had gone to that audition. She was glad that he had been called back. She sincerely hoped that he would make it far in the competition and be on TV too. She wanted him to be happy. But more than that, she had been looking for the perfect way out and finally she’d found it. Having him around all the time, working out with her and attending her shows, was supposed to make everything right again. But it hadn't.

The only real purpose the last few weeks had served was to increase her guilt over sleeping with Josh. As much as she told herself that she pushed her lover to the back of her mind, the truth was that their affair was never far from her thoughts. She had nearly confessed to Andre on multiple occasions, but couldn't bring herself to break his heart. His announcement about the Idol callback had given her the perfect cover to blow up.

But she was tired of pretending and feeling guilty. There were more mistakes in her life to come, but she wanted to make them on her own without worrying about someone else's feelings. She owed Andre complete honesty. She needed to finally confess and let him go. She needed to move on and so did he.

By the time she parked alongside the house, she had resigned herself to her fate. As agreed, she would crash at Simone’s house for her final few weeks in Pensacola and deal with the weight of what she had done. And then she would move down south all by herself and move on with her life. She would be okay. Andre would be okay.

Somewhat quelled by this, she stepped through the front door of her house.

Sitting on the couch with his feet resting atop a big cardboard box, Andre sipped from a beer bottle. "I think this is everything," he nodded to the other boxes stacked around the room. "I kept the dishes, but your pots and pans are in there," he pointed toward a couple of boxes next to the kitchen island.

A numbness settled into her entire body. Opening her mouth and then shutting it again several times, Delilah leaned against the front door and spluttered, "You're kicking me out?"

"You didn't come home. For two days," Andre stated, his voice surprisingly void of anger. "You somehow managed to get it up in your head that I don't give a fuck about you, Dee, but I do. More than you could ever know.” He took another swig of his beer. "The guys left at around one a.m. When you didn’t come back in the morning, I got worried. So I went to Tank’s gym. You wasn't there. Went to Simone’s. Not there, either. Then I remembered the tracker on your bike," he said.

Delilah's shoulders sagged with relief and something else. She knew where this was going. "Andre," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.

But he only held up a hand and continued his dialogue. "You took me a long way outta town, babe," he said, "Luckily, I’ve been to this neighborhood a few times for work, so it was easy to get in. I followed the tracker and I found your bike in some fancy new house parked next to a big ol' Escalade. His security system sucks, by the way. I was able to sneak ‘round the back of the house into the backyard, and who do I see in the pool?" Meeting her eyes, he took another drink, his expression hard. “Y’all were too busy to see me standing there, but now I know who you been learnin’ all your little sex tricks from.”

The bile rose in her throat faster than her body could compute. Rushing down the hall and into their bedroom, Delilah emptied the contents of her stomach into the bowl as sobs wracked her body. She had intended to tell him about the affair. She had planned it perfectly on her way back from Simone’s but now her plan had been blown to smithereens.

As she dragged herself to her feet and flushed the toilet, Andre loomed behind her like a shadow, leaning casually on the doorframe. "How long have you been fucking him? Hmm? My guess is since your tryout," he surmised. It was an image he would probably never forget; not just catching her in the act, but it was the look on her face...the freedom, the euphoria...She had never looked that way in all the years they'd been together. It was at that moment that he made his decision to take this long overdue step.

Splashing water over her face, Delilah rested against the edge of the sink, avoiding his eyes. She couldn't look at him, couldn't bring herself to see the accusations in his eyes. Nodding, she sniffled back another sob. 

"I'm so sorry," she managed to choke out when she risked a glance at him through lowered lashes. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Andre smirked, shaking his head in disbelief. "You don't just fuckin' cheat on your fiancé by accident, Dee. I know it might be hard for you, but can you at least try to respect me enough to tell me the fucking truth now that I know? He's been in our house. Did y'all fuck here, too?"

"No, of course not!" Like a wounded animal, all she wanted to do was hiss, claw, and bite back at him. She wanted to scream for him to understand, to try to act like an adult for once. But she had broken their engagement. She had been planning a life without him. She had no right to fight back.

Squeezing past him, she glanced into their bedroom. The piles of laundry on the floor were seriously diminished, and the candles were gone. The closet was more than half empty, her clothes and the rest of her belongings gone, probably in one of those boxes in the living room. This was really happening, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop it.

"When I met him, he was just Main Event Jey Uso, ya know?" she started, lowering herself to the bed and then standing again. Sitting felt too comfortable. She didn't deserve comfort right now. "One of the most over guys in the business that I wanted so badly to be a part of. He was really complimentary about my talents. And it felt so good." 

The look on Andre’s face made her wince a bit. She knew how absurd it sounded. She knew that it didn't make sense. But she knew that there was nothing she could say that would sound valid. There was nothing that made her actions right. "Knowing that somebody thought I was good enough to make it, that he wanted me to succeed? It was easy to convince myself that I was just thanking him for having faith in me."

In disbelief, Andre sat his beer bottle on the top of the dresser and crossed his arms. "You couldn't just buy him a thank you card or somethin’? Gift basket?"

"How? We’re broke as fuck!" Delilah argued without thinking, regretting it instantly.

A wry laugh escaped him as he scratched the top of his head. "Right. Our money issues. Of course," he started, biting his lip and shaking his head. "Ya know what? I'm not even gonna do this with you. We've both known this was coming anyways," he sighed, turning back for the living room. “I’ll drive you to Simone’s. You need to get whatever else you got here before you head out.”

Delilah followed him, her legs as heavy as lead, wondering why she felt so hollow. It was what she had wanted. She had the gun loaded and cocked before she ever walked in the door. She guessed it was just hard to accept that she wasn't the one pulling the trigger. "Can I ask you a question?" she spoke up.

Andre opened the door and lifted one of the heavier boxes into his arms, leaning against the wall for support when he looked back. “Might as well."

"Why pretend all this time?" she asked, grabbing the box closest to her before moving toward the door.

Andre stepped onto the porch and spoke over his shoulder, "I wasn't pretending," he grunted, laying the box on the ground and opening his trunk to place the box inside. Resting his hands on his hips, he offered her the first genuine smile she had seen since arriving home. "You forget who you're talkin' to, Dee? I’ve known you for half our lives. When you go off to the most life-changing event of your life and you don't call me at all? I know somethin' is up, okay? You had already decided that you were goin' to Orlando before you ever got home. So what was I supposed to do? Fight you?

"I figured I'd give it a shot. I decided I was gonna try to give it a shot, try to salvage what was left of us. Cuz ya know what?" Tilting his head to the side, he gave her that crooked grin that had always set her heart on fire in the past. "Believe it or not, this ain't easy. It ain’t easy walkin' away from somethin' that's been your life for as long as you can remember. But this has to happen. We ain't been right for a long time, and every time we try to fix it, we fuck it up even more."

For a moment, she thought that she might throw up again. The way that he was shrugging his shoulders made it seem as though he didn't care. But he was right. They knew each other. She could see it in his eyes. He loved her, more than he was ever going to admit in words. "And you don't think that we can co-exist for another couple of weeks?" she asked, unsure of where the questions were coming from. But at the moment, the thought of leaving him hurt more than she could explain. Not Andre, her fiancé, but Andre, her best friend since high school.

"No," he said without hesitation, stepping past her en route to the house to grab the last box. "You need to go, Dee. You need to follow your dreams. I've seen you wrestle, and you shine brighter than a damn diamond. You light up, and the crowd loves you. It’s where you're supposed to be. Not in this house," he explained.

Stepping back over the threshold, she wordlessly helped him carry the rest of the boxes to his truck. Once they were all loaded, she turned and looked at him, slightly amazed by how peaceful all of this was going. "I was gonna leave today," she informed him.

Andre smiled, unsurprised. "I was going to ask you to leave today," he said, "I guess we’re both doing what needs to be done."

At that, a sense of calm filled her beyond all reasoning. She was seconds away from abandoning the union they had worked so hard to maintain, yet both were happier than they had been in more than a year.

Glancing down, she spotted the final piece of her connection to him, the sparkling diamond ring still on her finger. Sighing heavily, she slowly tugged it off her finger and took his hand, pressing it into his palm. Andre locked eyes with her the entire exchange, the sadness, the relief and resignation in his eyes reflecting the emotions she was feeling too.

After rolling her motorcycle onto the back of his truck, Andre opened the passenger's side to help his now ex-fiancée in before moving to his own side, kickstarting the vehicle to begin the ride to Simone’s house. In the rearview mirror, Delilah cast one last look at her former life, heaving a heavy, cleansing sigh. The first chapter of her new journey had been completed, and despite the bittersweet sensations she was currently experiencing, she couldn't wait to crack on with the next chapter.

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

Thoughts?

Please leave comments! I love comments! 😁

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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[16mistypaw]

I borrowed the lovely @skyloftian-nutcase Healthcare boys for a short thing I wrote while feeling miserable from a flu shot reaction. Featuring a feverish Sky, a concerned Legend, and father figure Time.

The song in this fic is There Will Be a Day by Jeremy Camp. I had that song stuck in my head while writing this

---

Legend walked into the staff break room, heading to his locker to grab a new handful of pens to stuff in his pocket. He still didn’t know how he could start the shift with a full pocket, and have none left when he was barely halfway through.

Someone sat at the table, resting their head face down on their crossed arms. All he could make out was the fluffy, dirty blonde hair and rumpled uniform. A white cloth with blue highlights poked out from where it rested between arms and face, and Legend recognised it at Sky’s beloved scarf.

“Sky.” A muffled grunt was the only acknowledgement he received. “There’s better places to take a nap. Like home, didn’t your shift end a while ago?”

“Yea. Jus’ needed a minute.” Sky replied, lifting his head. The pilot’s face was flushed and damp with sweat, his expression more tired than usual. It took a moment for his eyes to focus on Legend.

“Are you sick?” Legend asked, straight to the point. “You look feverish.”

“Not sick, yes I have a fever. Flu shots suck.”

“Ah. The traveling cart found you huh?”

“Yeah, this morning. They asked if I got it, I said no, so they did it. Kinda hard to refuse at that point.” Sky plopped his face back into his scarf, energy seemingly spent. “I should head home.”

“Yeah, you should. Go sleep it off.” Sky sighed, then heaved himself to his feet. He wobbled for a moment, grabbing the back of the chair to steady himself. Then he straightened up, brushing past Legend to grab his clothes from his locker before heading to the changing room.

Deciding to keep an eye on Sky for a little longer, Legend busied himself straightening up the breakroom as he waited for Sky to return. He returned a few minutes later, grabbing his bag and then just… stopped, staring blankly at it for a moment before snapping out of it and gathering his stuff.

Legend didn’t like that.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t think you’re okay to drive, spacing out like that. Can anyone give you a ride?”

“Ah, the rest of my team went home a while ago… and the rest of you guys are either still working or at home sleeping.”

“When does Time finish today?” Legend knew Time had a soft spot for Sky, and had on more than one occasion taken the young man home with him when he was unwell.

“In like,” Sky checked the clock on the wall, brain stalling on trying to read the hands before checking his phone instead. “An hour?”

“Come on.” Legend took Sky’s bag, prompting him to follow as they left the break room. He pulled his phone out with his other hand while they walked, sending a message to Time. Sky didn’t question where they were going, until Legend led him down a hallway he wasn’t familiar with.

“You’re going to rest in one of the empty on-call rooms until Time is done. Then you’re going with him and sleeping this off.” Legend nudged him inside, placing Sky’s bag beside one of the beds. Sky sat on the mattress without protest, still holding his scarf in his arms as he lay down. He was out almost instantly.

Legend turned the main light out, leaving just the small lamp on the nightstand. He paused in the doorway for a moment, looking Sky over once more, before closing the door and hurrying back to his unit.

~~~

The knock on the door didn’t wake Sky, nor the light being turned on. Time gently shook Sky’s shoulder, and after a few moments the younger man blinked blurry eyes open.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Time asked.

Sky stared at him, processing, then, “Like crap. ‘Not exempt because it’s not an allergy’ my ass. Not all reactions are from allergies.”

“Yeah, that’s frustrating.” Time agreed. “Let’s get you home. You’re off tomorrow, right?” Sky only nodded in response, picking up his things and following Time out the door. The walk to the parking garage was short but tiring, and Sky gratefully slipped into the passenger seat, resting his head against the cool window. The rumbling of the engine nearly lulled him back to sleep, but random thoughts kept drifting in, keeping him awake.

“Have you ever thought about why our jobs exist?” Sky suddenly asked. Time glanced over, surprised at the unexpected question.

“Because people get sick and hurt?”

“Yeah, but like. Why?” At this point Time decided to just let the boy ramble, curious as to where his fever-addled mind was wandering.

“I mean, why do people get sick? Why do bad things happen? Because people made it that way. Those things weren't supposed to happen. The world was made perfectly. And then humans went and ruined it. We live in a fallen world of our own making. If that didn't happen, there would be no reason for what we do.”

“And yet here we are, making the best of what we've got in this fallen world.” Time replied. Sky didn't respond, and for a moment Time wandered if he'd fallen asleep. After a few minutes, he was surprised to hear Sky start singing softly.

“There will be a day, with no more tears,

no more pain, no more fears

There will be a day,

when the burdens of this place,

will be no more

Troubled soul don't lose your heart

‘Cause the joy and peace He brings,

and the beauty that's in store,

outweighs the hurt of life's sting.

But I hold onto this hope,

and the promise that He brings,

that there will be a place with no more suffering”

Sky trailed off as the car came to a stop, realizing Time had brought him to his place instead of taking him home.

“Come on, let's get you to bed.” Time steadied him as he stepped out of the car, leading him inside and to the guest room that was unofficially his. Everything was just as he had left it, making it easy to settle in for the night. Time left briefly, returning with a bottle of water, medicine, and something wrapped in a small towel.

Sky accepted the water and fever medicine, before laying down in bed. The towel wrapped object turned out to be an ice pack, which felt amazing on his hot skin. Something small and soft was tucked against him, and he was mildly embarrassed to see it was the worn red bird plush Sun had made for him many years ago.

“I don't need a plushy.” Sky protested. “I'm not a kid.” Despite his words, he held the treasured toy against his chest.

“There's nothing wrong with you having a stuffed animal. Just because you're an adult, that doesn't mean you can't have things like this, especially if it's something that brings you comfort.” Time shook out Sky's oversized scarf, draping it over him like a blanket. “Get some rest. I'll be down the hall, so just call if you need anything.”

Time flicked the lights out as he left, leaving the door cracked in case Sky called for him. He didn't think that would be necessary though. He could already hear soft snoring as Sky slept the fever away.

[castiwls]

Birthday blues .ᐟ

Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader

Synopsis; your son's turning nine and you're finally facing the reality that your ex was officially a deadbeat. Oh and Patrick really can't build a bike (but his hearts in the right place)

Notes; I may start a tag list for this if I get enough interest? hm

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

He was out of his depth. Wayyyy out of his depth teaching kids tennis was one thing but this? This was something he’d never imagined. He wasn’t even sure how he’d been roped into this yet here he was sitting on your living room floor on a Friday night surrounded by balloons and wrapping paper.

He huffed staring down at the instruction manual by his knees as he looked back to the parts of the bike on the floor. His lips pursed as he picked up another screw staring at it for a moment. 

“Keep glaring at it like that and it might disappear.” You quipped looking up from the box in your lap. A small smile pulled at your lips as you watched him raise an eyebrow picking up another screw. “Why can’t they all be the same length.” He grumbled holding them up to show you.

Shrugging you wrapped the wrapping paper placing the box on it. “Because that would be too easy.” He huffed a laugh placing the screws down before stretching his legs out. Humming quietly you grabbed a piece of tape to secure the paper before folding the edges. 

“You make that look so easy,” Patrick murmured watching you. His fingers tapped against the carpet you’d both been at this for a few hours now. You both worked surprisingly well together and besides the bike, almost everything was done and it was only ten.

Blowing out a breath he picked up a balloon before hitting it across the room. “I still think you're overcompensating. I know his Dad’s been a dick but this seems excessive.” 

You finished the present before sliding it into the pile. “I know it’s just-” You paused letting out a sigh. “This is the first year his Dad’s not been in contact at all. I just want him to have a good say still.” Your voice lowered slightly, a look of sadness flashing in your eyes. 

Noah hadn’t exactly taken his Dad’s recent distancing well. Ever since you’d been sick a month ago he’d pretty much refused to see his son, making excuse after excuse leaving you to pick up the pieces.

“Co-parenting was easier than this.”

Patrick smiled sympathetically, his tongue poking at his cheek as he thought for a moment. “You know it’s not your fault? The guy’s a dick, Noah’ll understand one day that maybe it was for the best.” He tried to keep his tone light but even he’d noticed Noah’s slight behaviour shift.

He seemed more subdued at practice, a sad look in his eyes that no child should have. “He’s gonna have a good day.” He shifted slightly closer, eyeing the pile of gifts. “His Dad’s the one missing out.”

He leaned down slightly to catch your gaze, his lips curling as you looked over. His gaze was soft, loving almost as your teeth caught your lip for a moment before your own lips curled into a small smile.

He handed you the instruction manual for the bike, his hand lingering over yours for a moment. “C’mon, let's get this thing finished.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“That took us longer than it should have.” You grimaced looking over to the clock which read 12 am. Patrick chuckled shaking his head. “It wouldn’t have taken half as long if someone knew how to read instructions.”

You shot him an offended look. “It’s not my fault you don’t know your lefts from your rights!”

You glared at each other for a moment before laughing quietly. His eyes crinkled slightly as you straightened your leg out to nudge him. “Hey!” He gasped in mock offence as he grabbed your ankle before running his fingers up your calf.

Your leg jerked at the sensation, a gasp leaving your lips. His eyes widened before they filled with what you could only guess was a mix of amusement and trouble. “Oh. Someone ticklish I see.” He smiled innocently repeating the motion.

You shook your head trying to pull your leg back. “Patrick. Sta-stop.” You gasped as his fingers continued their attack. He hummed pretending to think for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t think I will.”

He grinned at the sound of your laughter between your pleas for him to stop. A warm feeling filled his chest as you all but fell apart on the carpet, tears brimming in your eyes as you tried to pull your leg back. 

You gasped falling back against the carpet as you finally managed to pull your leg away, your breath coming out in pants as you lay still. The room fell quiet as you stared at the ceiling for a moment.

Patrick shifted to sit beside you, his face coming into view as he grinned down at you, his expression filled with joy. You smiled up at him as your breathing calmed down “You’re evil.” 

Shaking his head he poked your side making you squeak. “Careful.” He raised an eyebrow before looking around the room. “We did good hm?”

You had. The room was covered in balloons and a few banners with the bike and presents by the window. “We did.” You smiled sitting up.

You yawned stretching your arms out and groaning slightly. God you were tried. 

“I better get going,” Patrick said as he stood. “Tell him I said happy birthday.” He grabbed his jacket before pulling an envelope out and passing it to you. Your heart warmed slightly as you noticed the slight flush on his cheeks as you turned the envelope over in your hands.

“You didn’t have to-” He shook his head, shrugging. “It’s nothing. Felt wrong to show up empty-handed.”

Your eyes softened as you nodded. That was possibly the sweetest thing he’d ever done. The fact that he’d even had the thought to get a card was adorable and the sheepish look on his face added to that.

“Well, that's very kind.”

He nodded glancing to the door for a moment before raising his hand. “Well… I’ll see you at practice.”

You hummed nodding as you placed the card down by the presents before standing. An idea flashed through your mind as you stared down at the envelope which now lay beside your own.

“Patrick.” You turned back, making your mind up before you could psyche yourself out. “Do…do you wanna stay?” 

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

Noah grinned, bouncing on his feet as you knocked on the guest room door. You pushed it open ever so slightly but before you could say anything Noah raced in. “Patrick!” He grinned poking the man's side.

Patrick mumbled something before his eyes fluttered open with a quiet groan. He frowned for a moment at the feel of something poking him before he remembered the night before. 

You’d let him stay over. You’d let him stay over.

A giddy feeling spread across his chest as he opened his eyes again, now more alert as Noah’s messy curls came into view. “Noah, c’mon give him some space.” You hummed stepping in and gently moving the boy back.

“Can we go open presents now?” He whined looking between you both. A quiet laugh left you as Patrick sat up. Noah whined again looking between you both. 

“Fine.” You relented watching as he squealed. Patrick laughed at his enthusiasm moving to stand from the bed. “Morning.” 

“Morning.” You smiled as Noah tugged on your hand.

The three of you made your way downstairs, Noah gasping as he saw the living room he turned back to you both, his eyes bright and full of joy as he bounced on his feet. “Happy birthday.” Kneeling down you pressed a kiss to his cheek as he wrapped his arms around you. 

Your son's joy was infectious as you found any worry you’d had about his father's absence slipping away. Noah didn’t seem to mind one bit as he pressed into your embrace for a moment before setting his sights on Patrick.

He hadn’t questioned why his coach was here when you’d told him. He’d simply grinned harder before demanding he come open presents with you both. The little boy left your hold to barrel into Patrick’s legs. 

Patrick stumbled slightly but leaned down to wrap his arms around the boy. “Happy birthday bud.”

You watched them both your heart swelling slightly at the sight of your son smile, all thoughts of his dad seeming to disappear as he smiled up at Patrick.

You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t fall for Patrick. You refused to let your son get hurt yet you knew your walls had fallen. Patrick had managed to wiggle his way into your lives and part of you had never been happier.

“Okay.” You shook your head pushing the thought away. Your son's birthday wasn’t the time to have a crisis over your feelings for a guy. “Who want’s to open presents hm?”

Noah’s hand shot up. “Me!”

[funnypages]

Lessons of Resistance from WWII: The Rosenstrasse Protest and Evacuation of the Danish Jews

So a long history rant I think people should know about and keep in mind for the future. I want to talk to people about a little talked about story in the history of WWII, the Rosenstrasse protest: the one time, during the height of the Holocaust, when the German public protested against the deportation of Jews; and they won.

1942-early 1943 was arguably the height of Nazi Germany; with most of the continent occupied, allied, or neutral to them. It was also 2 years into the Final Solution phase of the Holocaust, the planned mass killing of Jews. In February 1943, the government began the final round-up of the 20,000 remaining Jews in Berlin. This included a category of Jews that the government had previously avoided deporting: Jews married to gentile Germans. While the Nazis had cracked down on these relationships since they came to power, there were at this time 1,800 mixed couples remaining in Berlin; almost all Jewish men married to gentile women (After the consolidation of power under Hitler, more German men had divorced their Jewish partners than women).

When these Jewish men were arrested, hundreds of their non-Jewish spouses descended upon the building they were held in, bringing with them friends and families, screaming for their husbands to be released. The protests were so large, that the Nazis could not suppress news of it spreading through Germany and internationally; and they were also genuinely afraid that arresting or shooting these women could cause the situation to spiral even further into an outright uprising. As a result, the men were released, and most of them survived the war.

Now there are a lot of critiques and analyses that can be done of the protest, about privilege and gender, and noting that nothing was said about releasing the 18,000 other Berlin Jews set to be deported to camps. Still, the reaction that the public had to these deportations, combined with the shockingly hopeful story of Denmark in the Holocaust, gives some valuable lessons in how fascists can be thwarted.

Demark was invaded by Germany in 1939 and was given a degree of autonomy, being treated as the "model protectorate." While the Danish government did acquiesce to demands to ban Communist and Socialist political parties, they refused to enact racial laws targeting Danish Jews. While not to say anti-semitism didn't exist in Denmark, for reasons debated by historians and sociologists, Denmark did not have a strong history of "othering" its Jewish community, and it was largely seen as an accepted part of Danish society.

In September 1943, German plans to deport the Danish Jewish community to concentration camps leaked to the Danish government, which then alerted leaders of the Jewish community. Over 3 weeks churches, civil servants (notably mostly working independently of the government), political parties, the Danish resistance (mostly at this point made up of the before mentioned Communists and Socialists), and private individuals helped evacuate 7,220 Jews, plus 686 non-Jewish spouses, by sea to nearby neutral Sweden. For context, the Jewish population of Denmark before the invasion was around 7,800. Of the 580 Danish Jews who failed to escape to Sweden, 464 were arrested; however, work by Swedish and Danish groups saw 425 of them released. Further, when the war ended, it was discovered that 116 Danish Jews had been hidden by their neighbors. In all, a shocking 99% of Denmark's Jewish population survived the Holocaust; the most of any occupied nation in Europe.

I tell both of these stories because they show what fascists and authoritarians are aware of: the limits of their power. They are aware of the simple fact so much of their power comes from average people just accepting what they do with no pushback. These groups thrive on atomization, demonization, and otherization. Because when people refuse to let their neighbors be attacked, that's when issues pop up. There were other individuals and groups in Germany who spoke out against the Nazis (the White Rose and the Edelweiss Pirates to name a few), but they were small and disorganized, they could be arrested or exiled or killed without much effort. But large groups of resistance? How do you arrest or kill those without stopping their families and friends from protesting? And the foot soldiers enacting their agenda tend to get antsy if there is large-scale pushback to them. The big guys in charge might be safe, but them? They are vulnerable to being fired, sued, arrested, or ostracised if they are seen enacting unpopular policies. Such actions put authorities on the defensive, stall them, and make them reconsider their tactics; which in the long run, can save lives.

This is what people mean, whether they know it or not, over the last few days when they have been saying "Help those close to you, keep your friends close." They want you to think they are all-powerful. They want you to think they are unstoppable. They want you to think there is no hope in openly denying them. Because they know that if those few people openly defying them become large groups openly defying them, then things spiral out of control.

[fsfghgee]

I need to see how that double date ended 🫡

Resolution

(Double Date Sequel - Kuai Liang, Harumi, Bi-Han & Sektor)

— You know this is a trap, don't you?

— I know.

— So why are we doing this? Why can't you just ignore her?

— She's your mother. — Standing in front of the busy restaurant, staring at the door as if trying to muster up the courage to walk through it, Bi-Han took a deep breath and squeezed Sektor's hand before entering the place. — I can't disrespect her.

— Even though she no longer respects you?

Ignoring the reality exposed by Sek and refusing to accept that he would not be able to win Madam Bo's favor as he had won Longwei's, Bi-Han looked for Madam Bo as if she were not already expecting them.

— Madam Bo! — Calling out to the elderly woman upon finding her leaving the kitchen, Bi-Han hurried to her. — We came as soon as we received your message.

— Very well. — She looked from one to the other, not hiding her surprise regarding Bi-Han. She already knew that he had been transformed into a creature of chaos by the titan Havik, but she never imagined that he had become so repulsive and dark in appearance. — I see that you are literally living with a monster now. — Ignoring Bi-Han, she looked at her daughter. — Is it still worth opposing Lord Liu Kang's will?

— I don't care about your disapproval or Liu Kang's. I fell in love with his soul. Not his appearance.

— A soul that was corrupted by chaos magic.

— Someone is keeping you well informed. So much effort to please Liu Kang… — Sektor mocked and Bi-Han held her tighter before she got too close to her mother. — It's no surprise that my father didn't go after a woman like you.

— What are you insinuating?!

— Sektor, please… — Bi-Han intervened before that discussion ended in a fight. — She's not insinuating anything. We came because you said you wanted to see her and talk to me.

— Yes, but the conversation we must have cannot be done in front of so many people. — Motioning to the restaurant, which was as full as usual, she waited for Bi-Han to agree before motioning for them to follow her. — Accompany me to a more private place.

— Bi-Han, no! — Sektor pulled him, murmuring so that only he could hear. — It could be dangerous.

— She's your mother. — Murmuring back, Bi-Han tried to ignore the concern in her eyes. — What harm would she do to you?

— Not to me. But what about you?!

— She can just try.

— I don't have all day. — Without bothering to hide her irritation, she turned around just to give a scolding before continuing up the stairs to the third floor.

Reluctantly, Sektor went up with Bi-Han to the isolated third floor. There were also tables like on the other floors and all the rest of the decoration, but only muffled noises from the floor below could be heard.

— Have a seat. — The elderly woman waited for the young people to sit down before continuing with the face of a few friends. — You're tired of hearing that what you're doing is wrong.

— In your opinion.

— You betrayed Earthrealm! You betrayed Lord Liu Kang's trust... — Indifferent to Madam Bo's indignation, they just stared at her without emotion. — In exchange for what?

— In exchange for a better future for the Lin Kuei.

— And what future will the Lin Kuei have if you die?

— I will never let anything happen to your daughter. I promise that...

— Your word is worthless, Bi-Han!

— Madam Bo, I-I...

— Don't pretend that you care! — Sektor stood up irritably and shouted in disgust. Interrupting her beloved when she saw how affected he had been by the older woman's words. — You abandoned me! You abandoned my father! You abandoned our clan! In exchange for what? To be a nanny for two farm boys!

— Your mother wisely honors Earthrealm with her services. — Liu Kang intervened, finishing climbing the stairs, making Bi-Han release a guttural sound in contempt.

— Is that what you want her to believe? Like you did with my father?! — Irritated by Liu Kang's sudden appearance, Bi-Han also stood up. — Like you do with my brother?! 

— Bi-Han…

— I've had enough. — Tired of her mother and Liu Kang's presence, Sektor grabbed Bi-Han's hand before he could think of trying anything. — Let's go home.

— Wait! — Madam Bo hurried before they reached the door.

— What do you want now?!

— I made a promise. And I'll keep it. Stay for dinner and I'll make your favorite childhood meal.

— I don't want anything from you!

— We'll stay on one condition. — Sektor looked at Bi-Han in disbelief, but Bi-Han ignored it, still thinking that he could achieve his goal with that visit. — I want you to give me your blessing.

— Bi-Han, you don't have to…

— My mother... — He looked at Sektor before looking back at Madam Bo, serious and resolute. — She would want it that way.

Madam Bo sighs and nods.

— I wish you had half the love for Earthrealm that you have for your mother.

Resigned to the young Grandmaster's lack of response, Madam Bo motioned for them to sit down again before going down with the fire god.

...............................

— You haven't even touched your food.

— I'm not hungry. I want to go home.

— You know this is important to me.

— We have my father's blessing. That should be enough. — Fearing that the day would end worse than it had begun, Sektor cupped his face and pleaded with her eyes. — Let's go home, please.

Bi-Han sighed and was about to do as she had asked, when approaching footsteps drew his attention to the front.

— Do you mind if we join you? — Liu Kang, accompanied by Harumi and Kuai Liang, stood in front of their table.

— Oh, no...

— Calm. — Holding Sektor's hand under the table, Bi-Han motioned with his free hand for Kuai Liang to sit across from him. — Feel free.

— Your manners have improved. But your appearance is still as horrible as your heart.

— You have no vision, Kuai Liang.

— It's your ambition that's blind, Bi-Han! As always. — Outraged by his older brother's disregard, Kuai Liang took a deep breath to control his anger. — There are no limits to your desire for power, are there?

— How can you kill and risk your life for a man like that? — Seeing the derision in Bi-Han's eyes and witnessing once again how unpleasant he was, Harumi questioned Sektor.

— Wouldn't you do the same for Kuai Liang?

— Of course I would. But he isn't Bi-Han.

— Exactly. I know his heart. You don't.

— What heart? — Harumi looked at the Chinese woman as if she had gone mad. — That guy let his own father die! He has no honor, no heart. As you must not have to…

— You know nothing about us! You…

— Kuai Liang. — Seeing that the argument between the women was escalating, Liu Kang intervened, seeking support from Scorpion. — Can you say something to your brother?

— I'll never forgive you.

— Did I ask for your forgiveness? — Bi-Han mocked, much to the indignation of his younger brother's wife.

— This guy…

— This is pointless. — Ready to leave the table, Sektor stood up again. — You're wasting our time.

— Wasn't it nice to see the mother you dishonor again?

— Mind your place, Kuai Liang! Or I…

— Or you what?!

— By the elder gods! — Startled to see Bi-Han jump on Kuai Liang and then the two brothers start exchanging punches, Liu Kang hurriedly stood up to try to separate them. — Enough! Bi-Han, Kuai Liang!

— Kuai Liang! — Harumi worried when she saw that her husband wouldn't stop being beaten by Bi-Han, tried to intervene too, but Sektor threw warning flames in front of the Japanese woman. — What are you doing?!

— Hurt Bi-Han and you'll have to deal with me.

— And let that monster kill my husband?!

— What's going on here?! — Madam Bo, who was carrying another tray of food with her, got angry and put the food aside to hit the tray with all her strength. — Stop now! — Hitting until they moved away from each other, Madam Bo stood between them. — Not in my restaurant.

— Madam Bo, I...

— I've had enough of you!

— But it was Kuai Liang who...

— Let's go, Bi-Han. — Trying to spare her beloved from her mother's wrath, Sektor grabbed his hand and pulled him. — Let's go home. She'll never understand either of us.

— If you're not restored, you'll remain immortal! — Liu Kang shouted behind Bi-Han and Sektor. — And immortality has a high price to pay!

— I am willing to pay any price to break the Lin Kuei free from bondage forever!

— Even Sektor's death?

— Liu Kang! — Taking the dark tone as a threat, he finally stopped and turned around ready to confront him. — If you…

— Sektor will not live forever! She is mortal and you cannot change that. Eventually she will die and you will be alone forever. Do you think that's fair to her?

— He's trying to mess with your mind. — Sektor stated, bringing his attention to herself. — I don't mind dying for the Lin Kuei.

— You will not die! — Shocked by the certainty in Sektor's words, he feared that this sacrifice would one day find her. He could have this from anyone, he would accept it from anyone, except Sektor. He wanted to have anything from her, except this.

— The difficult thing about grief is surviving something that could be normal. Losing someone you love is losing everything you have. No matter how much you cry, no matter how much you go crazy with the absence, no matter the level of your pain, nothing will bring it back. The pain of grief is dying while alive, it is living dying little by little, and what a long vain penance to live forever without feeling loved, without having the one you love.

...............................

— Because you are reckless, Bi-Han! What did you think would happen?! — Furious with his son's disobedience, he just shouted as if no one was watching. — That you would go in there and get rid of them all?!

— I-I never thought that…

— Of course not! Of course you never thought! Because you never think, Bi-Han! You never think! — Unhinged by his own fury, he hits the boy so hard that he knocks him down with the impact.

— Bi-Han!

— Stay out of this. — Longwei murmured while holding his daughter.

— B-But…

— Stay out.

— Forgive me, my friend. But I need to excuse myself and end this night here. — Fixing his own clothes as if trying to calm himself by fiddling with the fabric, he continued to stare at his son on the floor as he spoke to the master armorer. — You understand, don't you?

— I understand. Good night.

— But father… — Unable to see Sektor's concern, he only heard the girl's voice cry out to her father before the loud slamming of the front door drowned out her voice.

— Go to your room.

— I-I want to see my mother. — Weak from the injuries from earlier, some so serious that they hadn't healed yet, he got up with great effort.

— Go to your room before I change my mind.

— N-No, I want to talk to my mother…

— I told you to go to your room! — The older one dragged him by the wrist, freezing him to prevent his resistance and cutting the younger one's arm by throwing him inside his chambers without completely thawing his skin. — And you will only leave there for your training and studies until further notice!

— N-No! — Desperate, he runs to the door, banging on it with all his strength, but the door doesn't budge as if it were enchanted. — I-I don't want to be locked in here! Mom! Don't leave me locked in here! - Banging until he almost ran out of strength, he could no longer hold back the tears and cried. — M-Mom… — Crying profusely, he slipped to the floor. — M-Men don't cry... — Repeating what his father always told him, Bi-Han tried to control his emotions in vain. — M-much less perfect warriors, m-much less...

— Lin Kuei warriors.

— S-Sektor?

— What he says is not true. You can...

— Don't look at me!

Waking up suddenly, Bi-Han sat up in bed and looked for Sektor. Soon seeing that she remained beside him, sleeping soundly with her back to him, he stroked her short hair. He inhaled her sweet perfume and hugged her tightly until he fell asleep again.

He found himself in the middle of a war, it reminded him of Chaosrealm, but he had seen the chaos of that place many other times before. It was the chaos of a battlefield, surrounded by fallen dead bodies, destruction and terror. Combat proved that he was alive, there was no better way to prove his strength and skill than by subduing his enemies. And in the midst of it all, he could only see those who attacked him, killing them all with ease, suddenly a scream of pain reminded him that he was not alone.

— Sektor?! - Amidst the darkness, he searched for her as if nothing else mattered.

What was the point of that battle?

What was he looking for?

Who was his target?

He no longer remembered.

— Sektor?! — The trail of deaths he had created to reach her was the reason why his clothes were already bloody when he found her. — S-Sektor… — The blood that dripped from her stomach without stopping stained his clothes even more, as he held her in his arms and begged her to keep her eyes open. — Chō stay with me… P-Please…

— B-Bi-Han…

— S-Stay with me. — Terrified and in a desperate attempt to keep her with him, he tried to transfer the chaos magic to her, but she stopped him by holding his hand with all her remaining strength.

— I-I don't want to live forever.

— Y-You promised you would never abandon me.

— I-I... I-I love you...

— No!

Feeling tears streaming down his face even after opening his eyes, Bi-Han gasped for the recent nightmare. He couldn't lose her. However, he knew...

He knew she was willing to do anything for the Lin Kuei. And that as much as she had accepted him, she didn't want anything to do with chaos magic. Immortality wasn't something any Lin Kuei desired. And he wondered when he had started to think differently...

Taking care not to wake her, he wrote a farewell letter and got dressed. Leaving the envelope on his own pillow, he kissed the side of her forehead and inhaled her scent deeply to take with him as a memento.

— She will remain Grandmaster and will not be punished for having freed me.

— It is not for this transgression that she...

— Either you promise this or there is no deal.

— I agree to your conditions, Bi-Han. As long as you not only make peace with the Shirai Ryu but also reconcile with Kuai Liang.

— That is impossible.

— He is your brother.

— He stopped being my brother when he betrayed me.

— You disappointed him first, Bi-Han. This condition is non-negotiable.

...............................

5 years later…

— You're ready to go, Bi-Han. Don't forget what you promised.

— Only if you have kept your word.

— I wove the fabric of time to shape your destiny. I saw you born, grow and lose yourself. As much as you continue to hate me and your father for what happened to your mother... It was never our intention to hurt you.

— Bi-Han.

— Kuai Liang. — He greeted him with a brief nod, just as the younger one had just done. Still uncomfortable with each other.

— Are you ready, brother?

— You're pushing it, Tomas.

— Okay! Sorry. — Retracting his arms and apologizing after the older's scolding, he bowed briefly before him after walking away. — One step at a time. — He muttered to himself.

— I hope to see you together more often. — Finishing opening the fire portal, Liu Kang motioned for them to go through. — Have a safe journey.

— Where are we going?

— To the Shirai Ryu. — Upon seeing the alarm in Bi-Han’s eyes, Tomas continued. — You promised you would visit our clan when your restoration was completed.

— I don't recall making such a promise.

— Come on, Bi-Han. Tomas was counting the days until your visit. I agreed because Liu Kang said it would be good for both of us too. I still don't trust you completely. So don't threaten my clan when we get there.

Bi-Han took a deep breath before following the two through the portal. And in the blink of an eye, they arrived at the Japanese clan's compound.

— Bi-Han. — The youngest one bowed briefly in greeting.

— Harumi.

— Welcome to the Shirai Ryu. I hope this can be a fresh start for all of us. And that you don't make any of us regret this.

— Where is Hanzo? — Tomas asked almost desperately, anxiously looking around. — He has to meet you! You two have so much in common…

— How can a indigent whelp who lived on the streets not long ago have anything in common with me? — Bi-Han muttered to himself, trying to hide his contempt as Tomas hurried away. Kuai Liang, next to him sighed, listening to every word.

— By the elder gods, Bi-Han. Make an effort. — Without waiting for an answer from his older brother, who only took a deep breath at his demand, Kuai Liang took front of his wife. — Harumi will show you the rest, I have matters to attend to now.

— Don't be late for dinner. — Harumi smiled as she said goodbye to her husband. Hoping he wouldn't leave her waiting once again. — Kuai Liang has been quite busy resolving conflicts within the clan.

Bi-Han scoffed.

— As expected.

Noticing the mockery in the older one's tone, Harumi narrowed her eyes at him and took a deep breath to ignore it.

— Are you at least happy to see your brother? Because I know you were never really fond of me. — Smiling out of politeness, Harumi continued guiding him.  — I know you introduced Cyrax to Kuai Liang to make him forget about me.

— And she failed.

— You failed. — Ignoring the unfriendly looks towards the cryomancer along the way, Harumi continued distracting Bi-Han so he wouldn't stare back. — The way you always treated me coldly, how you always seemed to dislike me, made me wonder once if you had some kind of crush on me.

— I'm not Japanese. I don't pretend to like someone when I actually don't, nor do I pretend to hate someone when I actually like. Falsehood is not part of my culture. What my brother saw in Japan and in a woman so...

— Be careful, dear brother-in-law! — Harumi smiled after seeing Bi-Han lose his breath when she elbowed him in the stomach. — You don't want to get hurt before dinner. 

— I won't participate in your...

— Eventually I learned that my assumption about you was wrong. — Bi-Han, ignoring the pain in his stomach and trying very hard to hold back his curses, continued to follow the Japanese woman reluctantly. — And that you simply didn't think I was worthy of your brother. Because my blood wasn't Lin Kuei.

— It still isn't. Marrying my brother doesn't make you a Lin Kuei.

— I can't change my bloodline, Bi-Han. And I didn't marry your brother for that. I've loved him since I was very young. I love him with all my heart and I'm willing to do anything to protect him. — She said firmly, looking into Bi-Han's eyes without blinking. — You already know that I would give my life for his.

— I can respect that.

Harumi smiled, pleased to feel that she had somehow touched him.

— Thank you. — And finally entering the living room, simple and modest with typical Japanese decoration, Bi-Han controlled himself not to comment on the conditions they lived in. Having been born and raised in the imposing Lin Kuei palace, surrounded by luxuries, having lived his entire life only with the most influential Lin Kuei families and even with OutWorld sovereigns due to his late father's friendship with the emperor, he could not hide the expression of disgust with the simplicity of the place. The compound had already disappointed him enough, but a Grandmaster living in those conditions... — Most of our warriors hate you, so to avoid conflicts we will have an intimate dinner. I advise you not to leave here alone.

— I really don't want to stay for your dinner.

— It'll be worth it. — The young Shirai smiled mysteriously. — If you want to wash up before dinner, you can go down that hallway and turn right.

— I don't...

— See you later.

That wasn't an invitation, it was a summons.

Convinced that he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, Bi-Han took a deep breath and exhaled slowly in frustration. Frustrated for having to put up with that, frustrated for the time he had spent sleeping until Liu Kang discovered an effective way to restore him, frustrated for not being sure if the conditions he had imposed had been respected by Liu Kang, frustrated for not having returned to the Lin Kuei yet, frustrated for fear that he would never be able to return...

Without paying much attention to the room, Bi-Han locked the door behind him and leaned against it.

— Why wasn't she there? — Sliding from the door to the floor, he curled up and hugged his legs, wishing he was with the Lin Kuei. — W-Where is she? — Wishing he was with her. — S-She can't... S-She can't forget about me.

Tired of holding it in, he let the tears roll down his face twisted in pain. The vision already blurred by his tears.

— M-Men don't cry... — Repeating what his father always told him, Bi-Han, desolate on the floor, tried to control his tears. — M-much less perfect warriors, m-much less...

— Lin Kuei warriors. — Paralyzed, as if she were a mirage, a delirium. It took Bi-Han a while to realize that the warmth in her eyes and her smile were real. She was there. She was there with him this time.

— S-Sektor?!

— Are you still the Bi-Han I know?

— I-I am... — Standing up quickly, he stood in front of her in the blink of an eye. — I will always be. — Looking deep into her eyes, he caressed her bare arms, as if to make sure they were real, and smiled when he felt the softness of her skin under his rough hands again. — Do you still love me?

— Bi-Han, I…

— Say yes… — Whispering as he leaned down towards her lips, he was surprised when she dodged his.

— I don't know if I can forgive you.

— What? I did what I did for both of us.

— No, Bi-Han. You did it for yourself.

— Chō…

— There's no explanation, Bi-Han. — Breaking free from his grip, she dodged when he tried to hold her once more. — Not this time! You abandoned me. You left me alone for 5 years…

— I didn't know it would take this long!

— You didn't know?! You told me we couldn't wait to find a cure. That I should stop looking for it, because you were stronger that way… — She had been so angry and sad since Bi-Han had left, that she could barely control the tears that threatened to fall almost as an insult to herself. — Y-You said it was better for the Lin Kuei if you stayed that way, that you didn't care as long as I didn't…

— Sektor…

— W-Why like that… So suddenly?!

— I never wanted to be immortal. I-I never wanted to put your life at risk. I-I… — It was choked, stuck in his throat, very difficult for someone like him to admit… — I was wrong. I want to build a family with you. I want to grow old by your side. I-I couldn't bear a life without you with me! — With his eyes starting to blur again because of the tears he was holding back, he looked at her like the time he realized he loved her. — I couldn't bear to live without you.

— Why didn't you just talk to me?

— I was afraid you would see me as a…

— As a what?

— As a weakling. — Trying to keep his pride, he almost whispered before confessing in a louder tone. — I was afraid you would see me as a weakling. 

— After everything we've been through together, you still...

— I know! I was wrong. I just need you, I need your love... — Eager to be with her again, he cupped her face, making her see the sincerity in his eyes. — I love you like crazy. Don't you love me anymore?

— I wouldn't be here if I didn't.

— Take me home.

— You must stay for dinner.

— I don't want to stay.

— Bi-Han... — Turning her back on him, Sek wiped away the tears that threatened to make her give in once more.

— Don't leave me here. — Almost begging, but too proud to actually beg, he buried his face in her neck. — Take me with you, p-please.

— Arctika is as much your home as it is mine. Even if I don't want you in my bed anymore. You know the way back.

— You can't be serious.

— Think whatever you want. After 5 years I got used to an empty bed.

— So let me get you used to sharing it again... — Hugging her from behind and bringing her close to him, she moved as if she wanted to break free, but she didn't. Letting out deep sighs, her heart raced and he felt her body temperature rise quickly as the sometimes strong, sometimes soft touches of his lips trailed an imaginary path down her neck. He marked her as if she were his, squeezing her to feel every soft part, reminding her body of what it was like to feel desired and loved by him. — Your body still reacts to mine…

— O-Out of anger…

— Is it? — In a sudden movement, he turned her to him, searching for what he already knew he would find.

— B-Bi-Han… — Melting under his touches, her determination to remain angry wavered. She held his hand as he caressed her face with such affection and looked at her with such ardour that it made her want to forget all the nights she had cried herself to sleep.

— You still want me…

— I-I don't want to want.

— Don't say that.

— That letter… — Taking a deep breath so as not to shed more tears for him, she looked away from his intense hazel eyes to the old lamp flickering in the room. — You asked me to be happy, but not to forget about you. How could I be happy while I imagined you trapped in that temple again? H-How could I not want to forget about you after everything?

— Because you love me. — Caressing her nose with his, feeling her breath blow on his face, he sucked and nibbled on her lower lip. — As much as I love you.

— Bi-Han… — He kisses her deeply, a sweet and voracious kiss. Silencing her protests and fading the hurt she felt for him with each movement of his tongue in the warm interior of her mouth. — I-I still haven't forgiven you.

— D-Don't stop me from being with you…

— I'm not going to.

......

[hexlenx]

Could you do a story where Sergei is tough, but also overprotective of the protagonist, pls?

I love your stories

A/N: ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY. I am so glad you requested this because lately I've been obsessed with sergei and have been thinking of a way to make a small fic about his toxic self so you requesting this gave me an idea! Thank you so much anon! It might be a little different from your request though but the tough part as well as overprotectiveness is still there, just more dark themes. I hope you don't mind that though, I just feel like it fits more with his character.

YOU'RE MINE, ALRIGHT? — sergei kravinoff

note: I do not own this man because he owns himself, periodt. This is made purely out of entertainment purposes!

warning!: violence, age-gap, (somewhat) toxic relationship, little blood, swearing, sexual harassment, mentions of death, 18+, and sergei being hot (man is a warning himself) mdni

__________________

You were only taking your nightly stroll in the forest while your lover was in the cabin somewhere in the woods that he made you move in after knowing each other for a while. Your relationship with him was not really ideal but you loved him with all your heart and vice versa.

Your lover might not show it but he cares about you more than he let on. It worried you for quite some time now that maybe you weren't good enough for him, you refused to do such things that he called 'the hunt'. You weren't prepared to do something so unnerving. Surprisingly, he agreed to let you prepare after a bit of arguing and silent treatments of course. Still, you thought that he might leave you because you have never done anything for him other than sit still and be pretty.

But you were so wrong.

Sighing as an owl hoots through the trees and crickets sounding in your surroundings, you now began to walk towards the path to the cabin. You've basically just walked straight from here to there so it wasn't that hard to find your way back.

Noises of leaves crushing alerted you as you walked down the path. Multiple voices sounded from the right side of you but before you could hide, a bright flashlight flickered towards your figure, blinding you.

Hissing a bit from the bright light, you blinked your eyes before your vision focused to four males who looked about a couple years older than you. An ache appeared in your stomach as you felt like you had a bad feeling about the situation.

"Well, well. Look at what we have here." One of the men whistled as his eyes looked at your frame up and down.

"Quite a looker, right?" The other one on his right licked his lips in anticipation.

"Think we could use her for entertainment?" Another one from behind snickered. As if a light bulb appeared on top of their heads, their eyes lit up dangerously making you step back in fear as you heard their conversation.

No, please don't.

"Don't worry, doll. This will only last for the whole night." The man in the middle reassured but it was anything but reassuring. Before you could sprint off, one of them had already grabbed you by the arms, arms tightening around you as you continued to struggle.

Fear was evident in your eyes as tears started to prickle in them. This cannot be happening, you thought. You were a bit far from home so you couldn't scream for your lover because of the distance. You were now sobbing as the men took their time in touching you. Hands ripping off your shirt leaving you in your bra as well as your lover's boxers that you wore since you've used all of yours already.

You could feel their hands groping each part of your body before they finally decided to spread your legs. You were struggling to close it because multiple pair of hands were pinning you down to the ground next to a tall tree.

Sergei, that was the only thing you could think of.

Sergei, my love.

Sergei, please.

Save me.

"SERGEI!" You suddenly screamed out your lover's name making the men flinch from your voice.

"Fucking hell—this bitch is so loud!"

"Scream all you want, love. But no one ain't gonna hear you here." They all laughed as you kept sobbing. Why must this happen? Your bra was long forgotten as you tried to get your hands free but alas you cannot. The man between your legs then lowered his head towards one of your breasts but before he could latch on it a loud thump interrupted them.

"You dare.." A deep voice growled out as the four men stopped what they were doing. They slowly looked up and saw a very muscular man that stalked over them. His eyes glowing in a yellow serpent like color, his forearms hardening, as well as a very dark and murderous look on his face. The man menacingly stalked towards them as the men were quick to scramble up to their feet fixing their clothes before sprinting out.

The man immediately chased them and since all four were running at the same direction, he jumped high and landed in front of them to stop them from escaping.

"You dare to break and enter my forest, not only that.." He continued his words from before. Grabbing one of them by the neck he tossed him to a tree, hard. Making a sickening crack to be heard in the air, causing the others to look at the man in fear.

"You hurt what is mine."

You woke up in a familiar room and the warmth surrounding your from the fireplace. You were confused, weren't you just in the forest taking a nightly stroll while your lover was busy?

Just then your head started to ache as you remembered what happened. You hugged yourself as you now began to sob quietly, you were harassed, sexually to the point that you were ripped off your clothing. It made you feel disgusted with yourself, what would Sergei think of you now?

Footsteps sounded from behind you as you continued to wrap your arms around yourself hoping to shield yourself from the exposure from the world. Hot steaming food was suddenly placed in front of you as you blinked from surprise before looking away, not wanting to consume any food.

"Eat." It was your lover. Sergei plopped down on the spot beside you taking the spoon topped with food from the plate before putting said plate on the drawer beside the bed. He grabbed you by the chin before gently forcing you to look in his direction. This gave you no choice but to eat the food on the spoon he held up.

This continued for a few moments until you finished your food. The silence was deafening and it bothered you but it seems like your lover doesn't see that.

"I'm sorry."

Sergei paused from cleaning up the table before looking at you, confusion evident in his eyes despite his face unchanging.

"O—other men touched me..y—you probably don't want a woman like me a—anymore. I mean, I wouldn't as well.." You coarsed out as tears began to fall from your eyes as you look down in shame. You couldn't look at him in the eyes, you were so ashamed of yourself, hell even disgusted. You felt so dirty as you could still feel those men's hands all over you, tongues licking your neck, fabric tearing away from your skin. It made you feel ill.

Suddenly your face was gently pulled up letting you make eye contact with a pair of dark brown eyes that was in a fixed scowl but if you looked closely, it softened the moment you both made eye contact.

Sergei didn't know how to comfort you as growing up, all he knew was violence. But he did the only thing he knew he could do.

He kissed you.

"I'll make their hands disappear and make you remember mine, instead."

[random-remzy]

"I told you to leave."

"I know you did."

"You didn't listen to me."

You laugh. "Naturally! What else is new?"

"...Please leave."

The laughing stops. You squint your eyes and your fingers clench around the hilt of your sword. "You know I can't do that."

My hand twitches against my own sword. Itching to pull it out of its sheath. But not now. Not with you. "I won't take no for answer."

"Then learn to not ask questions."

"I don't want to fight you. Please just go."

You scoff. "There's a lake of blood where you stand. It's all dripping off your hands. You killed so many. Why hesitate to draw your sword on me?"

"Not you. Never you. You know that-"

"By the Gods I do! You killed my family! My comrades! You burned everything I ever had! The only thing I have left of the life before is a mountain of ash and bones! You- and now... You're here. Here to take away the last thing I have left- Well I won't let you!"

You pull your sword out and in front of you. It glows. Your stance is strong and I feel every ounce of willpower leave my body, as rage fills your eyes to the brim.

I widen my stance. I make myself look larger than you. But I feel my strength wane. "I will not fight you. I refuse to."

"Then I will paint the world with your blood and ash."

You lunge forward. You're faster than I remember, stronger. I cannot step away in time.

There is blood running from my shoulder. I couldn't even tell if it was my own. The only thing that made it stand out, was the dark color, and the cotinuous dripping. Other than that, it may as well have mixed with the thick layer of blood that already caked my skin. I never new how much of it was mine. Not much. That much I knew. "Stop this, please. Just leave."

You lunge again, I reach for my sword, but my arm- Right, I'm bleeding, you hurt it. I barely graze its hilt, before you plunge your own sword deep into my chest.

I feel my body freeze. I cannot breathe. I cannot speak. But my heart keeps beating, and every beat pulses painfully against the cold iron.

I can stop you if I desire. I can make you stop. I can make you stop this in so many ways. I've written every single way I know. It took fourteen leatherbinds to write them all down. But I don't. I don't stop you. Instead I writhe in pain as you stand above me. Trembling.

The words spit out of your mouth, and the rage is slowly seeping out of your eyes. "How dare you- HOW DARE YOU?!"

I say nothing, just meet your eyes.

"How can you come back here... to me! Knowing what you've done- Knowing what you are! What I am!"

I raise my arm. The one you hadn't injured. I reach it out, and place my bloodstained hand, onto your trembeling ones. Still tightly knotted over the hilt. I don't know why I do it. But I do. "I will not- h-hurt you-"

And the rage in your eyes, the hot anger streaming down your face. It doubles. "But I will kill you."

And you push the sword deeper. And then you twist it. I scream. I have never screamed before. I'd only ever heard the screams of others. Never my own. It's loud- deafening. It cracks and chokes. I feel my throat burning. Whether that is from the scream, or the blood. I do not know.

"I will NOT let you pass me. You will lie here and feel every drop of the pain that you showered me with!"

I want to cry. "Please- I can't let you- You'll die!"

You laugh. And what a horrible laugh it is. Broken and frantic. Loud and uneven. "So be it!" You spit in my face. "I died a long time ago. If now it's time for my body to go as well. Then so be it.."

My hand wraps around my sword. No. Stop- I don't wan't to hurt you. But my body doesn't listen. It takes hold of the hilt and in one movement, you jump back. clutching your face.

My hand is shaking. The sword- There was so much blood on it. None of it yours. Except it was. Your blood was always different. Golden. Unlike anything seen before. And it was on my sword, a path of gold etching itself into the cold iron. And my own hand, glowing the same golden hue. I drop the blade.

You let go of your face, stare down in horror at your own blood. Dripping from your face. Into your hands. Trailing down and into the grass. You look at me, meet my eyes. I cannot bear it. Your eye is to bright. Bright and bleeding. I did that. And you smile. And I think I do cry now. Because I cannot bear it. You laugh again. Your horrible, twisted laugh. "You missed~" You lean your head back, and expose your neck. It's smooth and scarless. And there is a river of gold flowing down from your eye. You drag a finger down the length of your throat. And I can see it, even from where I lay, the way you dig your nail sharply into the skin.

You throw your sword towards me. For a moment, I believe that this is it. That I've reached my end. But the sword wedges itself into the soft soil next to my ear. Close enough that, if I so desired, I could reach up with my good hand, and take hold of it.

"Do it."

"What...?"

You gesture to your throat again. "Finish it."

Bile rises high into my throat. Bile and blood and all things bad. "No- I won't!"

You're eyes- I could always read them. Not anymore. They're wild and lost. You bare your bloodied teeth at me. "Why?! Why not?! You had no hesitation when you slayed everyone I used to know! No hesitation when you burned every part of me!" You point accusingly at me, the golden blood shoots off of your hand and drips onto my face. I can feel it burning. I do not care. "So why?!-"

And you fall onto your knees and your hands pull at your hair, covering them in gold. It looks like a halo. You sob. Wretched sounds of dispair tearing through your throat.

The sky is darkening. You need to leave. Now. "Please... leave..."

"No."

Your voice is shaking, so is your body. But your stare holds. You will not leave. I need you to go.

"Please-"

"You said I'll die if I stay..." "...Then I'll die today."

"You can't-"

"I will."

I feel the tears now. It's been so long. I forgot I could cry at all. I need you to leave. Please leave-

"Please- just go!"

"I will not."

And I would've done more. Could've done more. But I didn't. I just laid there, on the soft bloodstained grass. Crimson and gold mixing together and seeping into the soil.

I would've done more. Could've- should've done more. But I didnt. Instead I let you stay there, kneeling on the grass. crying tears of gold and screaming hoarsly into the tress.

I didn't do more. And the world shook. I felt every part of me tremble.

I laid there. I left you there. I think I died there. I think you did too.

I remember closing my eyes. The world was engulfed in flames. It was burning. You were burning. I was burning.

And I thought that maybe. Maybe, now. You would die in peace. Knowing I had burned, just like you had...

~ * ~

(if it wasn't obvious, the word was 'leave')

“A single word can be interpreted in many ways. Shall I take yours as a threat, or something else?”

[regallibellbright]

WIP Wednesday, I guess (hey, I haven’t gone to sleep yet)

This bit, springing off of my tags from this post, shout outs to @purplelea, punched me in the face while I was trying to take a nap or at least think about the two fics I’m actually seriously working on, so I guess you’re going in the rotation.

“Besides, he’s already rejected me,” Joshua says.

Shiki and Beat turn toward him. “What, for real, yo?” Beat asks. Joshua nods.

“He never mentioned it to us,” Shiki says, frowning. “Just that you offered him your job again. Without the guns this time.”

Joshua frowns. “Yeah, and? He turned me down.” When this only makes them look more confused, he goes on. “Clearly if he were interested, he’d have said yes. I’d name him my eventual successor, we stay in the UG together and visit you guys, and then eventually when he was ready to be Composer I’d take over the Producer role, and we'd rule the city together. Obviously.”

“Or maybe he just ain’t interested in the job,” Beat says. Joshua looks at him like he just suggested the moon doesn’t exist. “What? Jus’ sayin’, he didn’t say anything 'bout that, yo.”

“It was implied.”

“In other words, you didn’t confess, and Cowards Club continues,” Shiki says. Beat nods. Joshua groans.

“Like it matters? Even if he didn’t turn me down,” Joshua says, clearly humoring them, “he’s obviously way more into you two than me. One of you should go for it.”

“Uh, no? How’s it obvious?” Beat asks. “‘Cuz I heard ‘im when you showed up, Priss. He wasn't that happy to see me, yo.”

Joshua looks at Shiki. “Neku broke back through a hole in reality to save Beat and punched the power overload right out of Minamimoto. There was glowing. Sparkles. I have seen every ill-conceived dramatic romantic gesture anyone’s ever committed in this city, and it topped all of them.”