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letsbangts · 22 days ago

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answer your phone || jjk

⤷ summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

⟡ sequel to mutt ⟡

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 12.8k+ (I couldn’t stop 😳)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk, jk is on a downward spiral (it's what he deserves), oc is struggling as well, taehyung is the shoulder to lean on everyone deserves

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, groping, protected sex, nipple play, oral (m. & f. receiving), markings (hickeys & other bruising), a bit of dirty talk & praising, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms…I think that’s it?

↬ a/n: HERE IT IS MUTT PT 2! firstly I want to say thank you for all the love & support i received on pt 1 it truly meant so much to me ♡ OKAY so you all wanted #justiceforoc and to see jk grovel so the tables have definitely turned on him ;). angel xoxo

↬ a/n2: p.s the flashbacks are indicated by the arrows (《,》)

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Answer your phone I've got to talk to you

Jungkook is sitting on his couch with a girl's lips all over his neck and her hands all over his body, but his eyes are fixed on his cell phone lying on the coffee table. Instead of focusing on how her tongue is licking at his throat or how her hands grope him through his pants, he can only focus on you.

He stares at the phone that won't ring, at least not with you on the other end. It has been over a month since you stormed out of his place. At first, he left you alone and didn't try to reach out because he thought you needed to cool off. Jungkook has dealt with this hot and cold shit with others before; he knows they’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort or not. And it’s so much easier not to. But he has been calling you for weeks now with no success.

This past month, Jungkook has been with a handful of women, hoping to feel something, but he hasn't. Not even with the aid of an empty bottle or a joint— and he's certainly had plenty of both— nothing makes him feel as good as you do. Whether it's getting his dick sucked by any of the random women he’s taken into the bathroom of a club or bending one over in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo studio, getting on top of someone else to distract him from you hasn’t helped as he thought it would.

Even though the girl with him right now is attractive, with a nice body and a skilful set of hands, he is trapped in his thoughts. He’s annoyed that her lips don't send tingles down his body like yours do, that her hands aren't as soft as your own and that she doesn't have her fingers running through his hair the way you do.

He misses you.

He pries the girl's hands off him and pushes her back as he lets out a deep sigh. She looks at him with a confused expression.

Jungkook licks his lips and, without looking at her, says, "I think we better stop; you should go."

The girl attempts a seductive smile as she moves to unbuckle his belt.

"Stop? We haven't even started anything. Come on, I'll make you feel good, big boy."

Jungkook rips her hands off of his belt, he rubs his hands over his face in frustration.

"Look, I'm just not feeling this, okay?" he says exasperated.

The girl's face drops and her whole demeanour changes.

"Are you fucking serious, Jungkook? Not feeling this? Can you not get it up or something? Is your dick really that pathetic?" she snarks, her eyes scanning him up and down.

He gives her a pointed look with his pierced eyebrow raised as he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek and chuckles bitterly. He shakes his head, sniffs, and sits up straighter.

"Okay, listen here, Emilia—"

"It's Emily!"

"Whatever the fuck your name is, I don't care. I tried to be nice about this, but if you want to provoke me, that's fine. You're right; I can't get it up because I can't even pretend for a goddamn moment that you turn me on, not even in the slightest, so get your ass out of my fucking house," he sneers through clenched teeth.

Right after Jungkook finished speaking, he felt a sting on his cheek. The response to his words was a sharp slap to his face and, once again, another upset girl storming out of his place, slamming the door behind her.

Jungkook shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. A metallic taste begins to form in his mouth; he must have bitten the inside of his cheek on impact. He rises to his feet and walks to the bathroom. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as he spits out blood. Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror and runs a hand over his reddened cheek, marked with a fresh cut from the girl's ring-clad hand.

He isn't bothered that the girl is upset because he doesn't care about her. Jungkook couldn't care less about whether he was an asshole to Emma; all he cares about is you and how he needs to talk to you.

Answer your phone Give me a minute, please Has your heart turned to stone? Have you no sympathy?

He has texted and called you an embarrassing number of times, waiting with every ring to see if you'd pick up so that he could hear your sweet voice. And he does, but only when he's met with your voicemail — "Hey, this is Y/N. Sorry, I missed your call. Please leave me a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"— which is a lie because you never do. Still, he leaves voice messages, hoping you will listen to them and call him back. He hopes that with every call, his persistence will make you curious enough to answer and talk to him—even if only for a minute.

Jungkook turns on the tap and washes his face; the cool water momentarily clears his head. However, once he raises his head and looks at his reflection again, his fringe drips with water, droplets falling onto his shirt. He is overwhelmed by the thought of you all over again.

He knows you can't be too mad at him because you haven't blocked him—not his number or on social media. This is how he knows you're not that hung up on what happened since he sees you posting, whether casually going out for coffee or all dressed up to go party with your friends; regardless, in all of them, you look stunningly beautiful.

This makes him miss you even more and makes him unsure if blocking him might have been better since Jungkook has seen some guys in your posts and noticed how they sometimes have an arm around you or how you lean in a little bit too close to them for his liking. He wonders if they are just friends; even if they are, he's sure they want to be more. Have they tried anything with you? Are you dressing up like that for one of those guys? Are you trying to move on with one of them? Is that the reason you're ignoring him?

The thought alone of you with someone else drives him crazy, but having to see you with some guy who probably doesn't even know you that well makes him furious. Jungkook knows you better than any one of those chumps could, yet they get to be around you while he is stuck looking at your angelic face beside some happy idiot through a screen like a loser.

Jungkook bets none of those guys know that you hum while getting ready, don't know that when you're in the car while it's raining you turn off the radio to listen to it fall, don't know that you can't sleep wearing pants or socks, don't know that you hate drinking room temperature water, don't know that you do this adorable little happy dance when you really like the food you're eating, and bets they don't know that the guy who put that tattoo on your hip has fucked you every way under the sun.

Shit. He misses you.

Misses how you would thread your fingers through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp while he had his head in your lap as you both watched TV, misses how you would listen to him complain about a client while you fiddled with his earring but with such attentive eyes that showed you were paying attention, misses how you would scrunch your nose and blush when he made a flirty comment, misses how you would somehow take the pressure of the day off him simply by hugging him.

Why won't you answer? Why won't you give him a proper chance to explain himself and apologize? Did all your feelings for him vanish; has your heart just turned to stone? Don't you see how hard he's trying? Don't you have any sympathy for him?

Upon realizing that his teeth are grinding together and his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, he pulls himself together, relaxing all his muscles, and heads back to the living room with determination.

Jungkook grabs his phone off the coffee table before sitting on his couch. With his elbows resting on his knees, he goes to his call log filled with your name and presses it, lifting the phone to his ear as he listens to the ringing for the umpteenth time.

I know I fucked this up I know I let you down But I've suffered long enough And you're still not around

He bites his nails while tapping his foot anxiously; he concentrates on what seems like endless ringing. His eyes glance at the clock. You should be home from work by this time, he thinks. When your voice finally comes through—voicemail, of course. Jungkook didn't honestly expect anything else.

He leans back, tips his head back against the backrest, and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts, and when he hears the beep of the answering machine, all those thoughts spill out of his mouth.

I know I don't deserve it But please have some mercy 'Cause I just might die if you don't

Y/N POV

You hold your buzzing phone in your hand and watch as the screen dims once it's finished, only to light up a few seconds later with a notification about a voicemail.

You hit on the notification and bring your phone to your ear, you bite your lip when you hear the deep voice of the man you've been keeping at bay.

"Hey Y/N, I don't know if you even listen to my messages anymore or if you ever did, but I'm not going to give up. I'm sorry, I know I fucked up and I know I let you down, but—fuck, Y/N, I miss you so goddamn much. It feels like I've been suffering for so long like there is this knife that's buried in my chest and keeps twisting the more time you're not around. I know I don't deserve it, but please have some mercy and answer me. Fucking shout at me and curse me out. Answer me and don't say anything— stay silent if you want, but just answer me, please. I need to hear your voice, or see you, something—anything, because this is beginning to feel like a slow, painful death."

You sigh as you lower the phone from your ear, swallowing the lump in your throat. You've never heard his voice so shaky; you've never experienced Jungkook being anything but confident.

Jungkook has been persistent in reaching out, and you have told yourself you must be just as persistent in your resolve not to answer. This past month has been devoid of any trace of him, but just because he hurt you doesn't mean all your feelings for him have vanished. It's been hard on you; many times your thumb has hovered over the accept button when he called, but by the time you contemplate it, the call has already gone to voicemail.

Regarding that night, you have calmed down significantly since leaving his place feeling angry and upset. You have thought it over countless times, and although you still don't condone what he did, you genuinely believe he didn't act with ill intent. You just expected more from him; he always told you how it was different with you, that you meant more to him than anyone else. Only to then treat you like any other one of his insignificant flings. It made you question if you were so whipped for him that you failed to see he viewed you as a girl easy to fool. But you know Jungkook is more than just that one night; he may have disappointed you, but there have been many times he hasn't.

You have ignored every attempt he made to communicate with you; yet, you haven't blocked him on anything—it feels too final. Instead, you have been keeping yourself occupied. When you're not working, you've been going out with friends, reminding yourself of who you were before Jungkook. Of course, you didn't completely ignore your friends when he came into your life, but he did take up a big part of your free time.

They knew about him as well; while they may not have known all the dirty details of your relationship, they did know that you spent a lot of time with him and enjoyed doing so. And if you were happy, so were they. So when you replied in the group chat that you'd be joining them for a night out, they were shocked but didn't ask any questions. They were excited to have the gang together and didn't hesitate to ensure you had a good time.

Usually, you'd spend your weekends with Jungkook since you both were off then. You would be tangled in his sheets, a sweaty mess put in various positions inducing multiple orgasms. You had forgotten the thrill of being in the middle of a crowded dance floor, sweat rolling down your body from the heat of so many bodies so close together. Throwing back countless shots, you and your friends could barely dance in your heels and tight dresses without stumbling over.

You'd also forgotten how much male attention you receive when going out and mingling with new people. Although there are still many creeps around—for whom you had to get your guy friends to come to your rescue—sometimes there would be someone who seemed harmless enough to flirt with, but then you would remember a certain doe-eyed, dimpled-smiled man and would turn them down.

One time, when you had used your friend Taehyung as an escape from an otherwise seemingly good guy, pulling him behind you and wrapping his arms around your dancing figure for protection, he asked you why you didn't go for it. That was when you opened up and told him the full story about you and Jungkook. Taehyung has been a caring and understanding person for as long as you have known him, and he empathized with you when you explained your feelings and complicated situationship.

Since that night, he has been your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. He has witnessed firsthand how this month has not been easy for you, no matter how much you tried to forget about your fuck buddy/friend. After hearing about the detailed story of the last night you spent with Jungkook, he has been vocal about how you deserve someone who wants to be with only you and that you are more than enough. Yet, he never judges you and understands that you know a different side of Jungkook.

You know the Jungkook who moved all the mugs to the lowest shelf in his cupboard so that you could reach them, the Jungkook who sings loudly in the shower, the Jungkook who when he first falls asleep starts twitching with a cute, peaceful smile on his face.

You miss him.

You've passed the tattoo studio on your way home, stared at that flashing neon-red sign, and thought how all it would take to see him is for you to step through that door; if you just walked in and talked to him, maybe everything could turn around in your favour. You both could patch things up and be happy. You could be together.

You've looked through that window from afar, hoping to catch sight of the pierced, tattoo-covered man, reminiscing about when you were on the other side with him.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

The bell of his studio dings, signalling your entry. At the counter stands the pierced, tattoo-covered man you came for. He looks up from the book with his scheduled appointments, and when his eyes land on you, he flashes you that big, dimpled smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling in delight.

"Hey, baby. I wasn't expecting you. What are you doing here so late?"

He drops his pen onto the book and rounds the counter, meeting you halfway. His lips press against yours in a quick kiss as his hands settle on your waist while yours find their way around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

"I could ask you the same thing. When you texted that you were still here, I thought I would stop by to see you," you shrug.

Jungkook sighs and gives you a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand to brush through his hair.

"My last client of the day cancelled on me, so I decided to stay back and work on some designs. I sent the others home, and I guess the time got away from me," he scratches the back of his neck.

"Mmm, handsome and hard-working, what a catch," you smile and tiptoe to give his cheek a peck.

"I don't want to disturb you, though. Should I go?" you continue, rubbing your hands up and down his chest.

Jungkook shakes his head as he removes your hands from his chest.

"No, stay. I could use your presence; it has been a stressful day."

He walks over to the studio's entrance, flips the open sign, locks the door, and pulls down the blinds, now closing for the day. Lastly, he switches off the main lights, leaving only the multiple neon lights on the walls in various designs and colours to keep you from darkness.

He takes one of your hands into his, interlocking your fingers, and leads you through the dimly lit room to behind the counter, and to the desk you've seen him work at many times. He rolls out his chair and sits at his desk, looks up at you, and pats his thigh, and you comply with his silent request. You sit, his muscular thighs between your legs. He puts one arm around you, holding your waist to keep you steady, while his other arm rests on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Once in his lap, you look at the glance over the wooden surface covered with scattered papers, all filled with his artwork. Some designs are drawn with intricate detail, while others are simple sketches. But they are all equally impressive—sometimes you forget how talented Jungkook is.

"Oh my gosh, Kook! These are amazing!" you gasp, picking up one of the sheets and turning your head to look at him.

He takes the paper from your hands and places it back on the desk. You see the tips of his ears turning red.

"They're alright," he shrugs; you notice he seems sullen.

You turn in his hold, your body sideways on his lap, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"What has got you so stressed out?" you ask, pushing back his fringe before moving your hand to fiddle with his earring.

Jungkook closes his eyes at the feel of your touch, exhaling a breath in relief. He leans forward, rests his forehead on your shoulder and hugs you tight.

"I just—that client, that was the fifth cancellation this month. I don't understand why; we had several consultations, and I listened to all his requests. I showed him so many different design options that I had sketched for him. I don't know maybe I—maybe I lost my touch or something."

"Hey, now that's not true; this stuff is unbelievable, Kook." you gesture at the multiple illustrations on his desk. "And you have been completely booked up with back-to-back appointments every day, I have never seen you so busy."

You tug on his hair and he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer.

"Plus, do you think I would let a guy who's lost his touch anywhere near my skin with even a drop of ink?" you tease, your lips brushing his ear.

"That was months ago," he mumbles into your neck, and you feel the coolness of his lip rings against your skin.

“Yeah, and I would still let you be the one to do it."

Jungkook looks up at you as he argues, “Not like I’m going to let anyone touch you besides me.”

You boop his nose with your own, which makes him chuckle.

“I’m serious, Jungkook. You are passionate about your job, and it shows in your artwork. You are such a talented artist, people see your pieces online and come from all different places just to get inked by you. You. Because you are fucking Jeon Jungkook,” you poke at his chest.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles softly as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “How do you always know what to say to calm me down?”

Your eyes sparkle at his question, and you smile gently as you hold his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin while pressing your forehead to his. “I know you. Everything I said is simply the truth.”

Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly in surprise, but his gaze softens. You weren’t sure due to the low lighting in the room, but his cheeks seemed to flush as well.

"Thank you, baby,” he says almost shyly, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man who flirts with you so shamelessly at every chance he gets, nor the same man who has had you screaming in pleasure several times a night.

There are many sides to Jungkook, and you adored all of them.

You wrap your arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, burying your face in his neck, and he hugs your waist just as firmly, kissing your forehead.

You both sit like that for a while, and your breathing becomes in sync as if your bodies had become one.

“I-I'm…I'm glad you came here,” he clears his throat as his arms tighten around your waist, basking in your warmth and comfort.

Jungkook has vented to you about work before, but this time, it feels different. You’ve never seen him like this.

"I'm here anytime you need to talk, Kook," you reassure.

“Well, that's good to know…” He said with a nervous smile. “But I meant…I'm glad you came here that day to get your tattoo, that you came into my life.”

Your body freezes momentarily at his words, but soon a fire ignites in your heart and spreads throughout you. You are filled with pride and relief that he feels comfortable and trusts you enough to share his personal feelings so openly.

"I'm glad I did too," you whisper, "I meant what I said though, I'm here if you ever need to talk."

“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. But on one condition.”

"What?"

He tilts his head to look down at you, you look up at him through your lashes.

"You have to come and hold me like this when I do."

"Deal," you giggle.

"Seal it with a kiss," he leans down slightly.

You lift your head and meet his lips in an emotional kiss which soon turned more heated as your tongues mingled together.

You move down his body, kneeling between his thighs. Your hands grip his belt, and Jungkook pants lightly, his anticipation and need high. You unbuckle it and unbutton his jeans effortlessly, then quickly pull them down far enough for his bulge to be exposed. As expected, he is already hard for you. The effect you have on him is always intense. You glance up at the heavy-breathing man above you, eyes hooded and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You shift your focus from his bulge to his t-shirt, gripping it by the hem and pulling it up. When he realizes what you want, he assists you; he sits up a little, grabbing the back of the collar and pulling it over his head with one hand, fully exposing his toned core. Just like that, his shirt is off, and he tosses it to the floor to be found later.

Your hands create goosebumps across his exposed skin as they brush against his lower abdomen when you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. His erection springs up and rests against his abdomen, impatient for your touch.

At the sight of his big, veiny dick, you unconsciously drag your tongue along your upper lip. You quickly remove his jeans and boxers, along with your shirt, leaving you in your bra, panties, and skirt.

Your hand wraps around his shaft, and your thumb swipes across his head, smoothing the precum over his length to make it feel better. You stroke him gently a couple of times before leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock. Jungkook hisses at the sensation, and he throws his head back.

You slowly begin to move your hand up and down his cock; you enjoy building him up gradually and prolonging his release. A knowing look flashes across his eyes when he discovers what you are doing. He chuckles, and then you swirl your tongue around his head, causing the smile to fall from his face immediately as his hand grips the sides of the chair.

“D-don’t tease,” he breathes heavily.

Your lips curve up into a barely noticeable smile at his reaction. You lick him from the base of his length to the top, swirling your tongue around his head once more before slowly pushing him between your lips and going down on him, your tongue pressing against his hardness as you take him in.

His abs clench at the contact, and a moan slips past his lips, “Fuck, yeah."

You glimpse up at him; his eyes are closed tightly, and sweat is forming on his golden skin, the exact way you like seeing him when you suck him off. The fact that you could affect him like that without even doing very much boosts you with confidence.

You start moving back up slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing him gently, earning a whimper. You repeat your movements with eagerness.

You love giving him head, hearing his moans of pleasure, having him fall apart at your touch.

After a few rougher squeezes from your hand, you suck harder and take as much of him as you can into your mouth, using your hand to pump the rest of him that you can’t fit.

"Feel good?" you ask the obvious question.

He whines and raises his hand to your hair, pushing his fingers through the locks and out of your face. “That feels so good," he rasps.

You hum around his dick; you look up and find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark with lust—an image you will carry with you to your grave.

You flutter your eyelashes at him and take him even deeper, fully engulfing his dick, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bob your head.

Jungkook gulps and his eyes roll back in his head. You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust up into your mouth on instinct.

You go back to slowly moving your hand up and down his length, and it lasts for a few seconds until his hands are over yours, stopping you. Before you can question him, he takes your head in a tight hold and forces you to move faster, his large hands enveloping your head. He gently pushes down against your head until his entire cock is in your mouth and holds you there, your nose touching his pelvis. Your eyes water, but you power through, breathing deeply through your nose.

The man appears to be in pure bliss. His thighs are shaking, and his eyes are blinking rapidly, trying hard to stay open. His mouth is agape as he releases breathy moans, his chest heaving up and down.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby, fuck,” he growls.

When he is satisfied, he pulls you up off of his cock and removes his hands. You pop back up and let go of his throbbing length, a string of saliva briefly connecting your mouth to his tip. You gasp for air with tears streaming down your face, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren't you?” he says, lifting your chin and wiping your wet cheeks.

You nod with a sniff, your eyes still glassy.

Jungkook suddenly reaches forward to grab your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You quickly straddle him, your hands pressing against his chest as you grind softly against his dick. His lips crash into yours in a messy kiss; it lasts for a little while before he pulls away and looks straight at you, “You know I love having your mouth around me, baby, but I need to be inside you."

Then he’s capturing your lips once more, his arms encircling your legs around his waist as he does so. His hands rest under your thighs, effortlessly supporting your weight. You’re so immersed in how seamlessly his lips meld with yours that you don’t notice you both have shifted from the chair until you feel him place you on the desk.

Jungkook glides his hands up your thighs, only to have them wound around your waist, pulling you against him with force. He stands between your legs, with your pussy pressed directly against his member.

You grind your soaked panties against him, causing his lips to detach from yours, letting a groan escape from his lips as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck in the process. You trail small, wet kisses from the side of his face, along his jawline, and down his neck, before stopping at the junction between his neck and collarbone. You suck harshly on his skin, earning yourself a few moans from Jungkook, and you feel his chest vibrate.

Jungkook takes hold of your neck, his hand on your throat and kisses you intensely, attempting to express the longing he has felt for you since the moment you walked into the studio. His tongue swipes against your lower lip asking for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to let him in. As his tongue dances with yours, you feel his hands tug at your skirt before he pulls it down, pausing to allow you to lift off the desk enough for him to remove it along with your bra, tossing them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.

The sight of your naked torso distracts him from doing anything else, his gaze lingers on your breasts before it shifts to your hip where your tattoo is. Jungkook’s hand instinctively glides over the skin adorned with black ink.

“It's still my favourite piece I've ever done,” Jungkook mutters before he plants kisses along your sternum and then finally on your breasts. Before his lips can explore further, you cup his face and bring it back to yours, and you both smile into the kiss. He gathers you in his arms and moves toward the tattoo chair behind him.

Jungkook carefully lowers you onto the reclined chair, and you watch as he stands at the edge of it, removing the black jeans that are already halfway down his legs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that you’re watching every movement of his; you bite your lip and smirk, and it seems to turn him on even further, which urges him to discard his pants and join you quickly.

He crawls over you, supporting his weight with the arms on either side of your head. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he begins his exploration of your body, using his lips. Open-mouthed kisses are placed along your neck, across the curve of your breasts, and back up to your neck, where he decides to leave his mark by sucking on the skin at the base of your neck. The noises that escape your lips only motivate him to suck even more aggressively, creating even more red marks as he moves down your body.

“Kook, do something,” and as if he had been waiting for those words, Jungkook starts to move lower on your body until he’s hovering over your clothed pussy. You watch as his nose skims over the wet patch on your underwear. His hands smooth over your legs before they settle onto your hips, which he doesn’t leave unmarked as he sucks on the skin above your tattoo. Your hips rise, yet his stronghold stops you from squirming. “Kook, I need you.”

Upon hearing your desperate begging, Jungkook presses a finger to your covered heat, skillfully finding the bundle of nerves that have you writhing beneath his touch. He begins to rub between your legs, with the sole barrier to full contact being the delicate piece of cloth. He keeps teasing you through your panties, relishing the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Deciding that you’ve had enough of the torture, Jungkook hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties before pulling them down, revealing your glistening cunt. He locks eyes with you, and you observe from above as he slips a finger inside you, his stare unwavering. As he pumps his finger inside you, your head tilts back, and you let out a string of moans.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Jungkook comments before inserting another finger inside you, gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs as your hands weave into his hair. You’re surprised when you feel him sucking on your clit; the extra stimulation makes you tremble against his thrusting fingers.

“Mmm, and so wet. Your pussy tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”

“Oh my god, K-kook,” your back arches off the bed as he adds in a third finger while keeping his mouth on your sex. He smiles triumphantly upon hearing you repeat his name like a mantra, and he sets out to ensure you’re moaning it even more loudly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress your desperate moans, but it's in vain when Jungkook curls his fingers within you, hitting a specific spot that causes you to clutch his hair tightly and cry out his name shamelessly.

Jungkook relentlessly drives into you, his fingers curled to target the spot that makes you moan his name, while his mouth remains attached to your clit, teeth lightly tugging and grazing the bud before his lips form a tight seal around it. You feel the pressure in your lower stomach intensify with every thrust of Jungkook's fingers and every flick of his tongue, all leading up to your orgasm.

Jungkook watches as the wave of ecstasy flows through your body, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the way your face contorts in ecstasy. His fingers are still thrusting inside, helping you ride out your high, but the oversensitivity soon becomes too much, and you have to push him away.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to notice what a handsome man Jungkook truly is. Complementing his defined biceps and strong thighs were his abs, impeccably shaped, and you observe as the stunning man above you licks the remnants of you from his fingers. The sight has you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down so that his chest meets yours. Jungkook smirks at your action before he hungrily attacks your lips with his glistening ones, letting you taste yourself as you recover from your climax.

“Take this off,” you mumble against his lips, your foot at his lower back attempting to push his boxers down. He quickly complies with your request, shedding the dark grey boxers before leaning down to his jeans on the floor to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and get a condom. He rips open the foil with his teeth, being careful not to tear the condom in the process, before rolling it down his length. He hovers over you again, keeping most of his weight off of you with the support of his arms.

Jungkook kisses at your navel before trailing upward towards your breasts. His mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking on it, he takes his time sucking one breast while kneading the other one before he switches. Your hands hold onto his biceps, gliding over his skin as he prepares your body for another climax. When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your two mounds, he places one more kiss against your lips before looking into your eyes.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Mhm, Kook. Want you so bad.”

And so Jungkook takes his length and aligns himself at your entrance, the tip of his member almost pushing past your folds. He gives you one last peck on the corner of your mouth before his member sinks into your pussy, making you wince at the stretch of your walls. He pushes himself until he is buried deep within you, causing you to whimper when you feel his full length inside of you. Jungkook groans loudly as he feels himself being embraced by the warmth and tightness of your wet, velvety walls. He reaches for your hands and lifts them to rest on both sides of your head and interlocks your fingers with his. His forehead meets yours, and both of you share a longing gaze while relishing the moment. Once you've adjusted to his size, you move beneath him, and Jungkook takes it as a signal to begin his ravaging.

He pulls back all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before pushing himself balls-deep within you once again. You urge him on with your voice, calling for him to go faster and harder, and he complies by thrusting into you at an astonishing speed. With each thrust of his, Jungkook’s name escapes your lips in moans that fill the studio, along with his panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You feel the warmth of his chest leave yours when he sits up, his hands gripping your waist, pressing his fingernails into your skin. The new position allows him to pull you to meet each of his thrusts, hitting at a new angle that makes you cry out his name. When he starts hitting that same spot that tipped you over the edge earlier, you grab his arms and pull him so that he’s on top of you again. His entire weight is on top of you, but you don’t care, not when his thrusts are paired with his lips on your neck.

You moan loudly, which is followed by your pussy convulsing around his cock, and Jungkook knows that you’re close. Your nails scratch against his broad back, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to his pleasure. You're sure he’ll have red marks all over his back as if he’s been attacked, but it's a fair trade because he’s marked you plenty with his lips.

Jungkook feels you clenching around him even tighter than before, and he’s slamming his hips against yours, urging you to reach your climax. When Jungkook feels your nails dig deeper into his back, his hand reaches between your two sweaty bodies and draws circles on your clit, which sends you off into euphoria. Your second orgasm of the night hits you harder than the first, and your body would have trembled if it were not for Jungkook’s body in the way—the body that is still connected to yours and continues thrusting into you. Your swollen walls clench so tightly that Jungkook starts chasing his high. He groans loudly against your neck as he shallowly thrusts into you, helping the both of you ride out your orgasms.

Jungkook sighs in release, unaware of how long he’s been holding his breath. Jungkook detaches himself from you, and you gasp lightly, feeling somewhat empty as the warmth leaves with him. He rolls off of you, and the two of you lie close together, side by side, attempting to regain your breath after the intense exchange. You sense his gaze from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to face him, your eyes meet his round, dark brown ones.

"Come here."

Unsatisfied with just your shoulders touching, Jungkook turns onto his side, and you do the same before the both of you shift closer to each other. His hands rest naturally on your hips as if returning them to their rightful place. No words are exchanged between the two of you, but there is no need to because you find yourself lost in the softness of his brown eyes, and he can’t help but mirror the wide grin that’s plastered on your face. His hand moves to your tattoo, and you observe his expression as his fingers hover over the indelible design on your skin. His eyes hold a sparkle that evokes a certain emotion to wash over you.

“So, do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence of the afterglow, but he looks confused at your words, and you find the sight adorable. “You were stressed out...”

“Me? Stressed out? Huh, I don't know what you're talking about.”

You are the one who's confused this time, but not for long, because the realization hits you when you see his mischievous smirk. You punch his arm playfully, and he grins almost too widely, his eyes forming crescents. His hands, which were placing feathery touches on your tattoo, are now tickling your sides, and he’s elated at the sound of your joyful laughter before pulling you against his chest.

Jungkook looks around the studio, the neon lights casting shadows on his face, "I feel good; how could I not? This is a first for me though— fucking at work."

You look up at him with raised brows in surprise, Jungkook smiles down at you and continues.

"You know, I didn't think the next time I had you back in my chair would be like this."

"Oh my gosh," you blush and hide your face in his chest, a little embarrassed but mostly shy at his remark. He laughs, and you feel it rumble through his chest; his hand lifts to pet down the back of your head.

"You can't be shy with me after all that. Every time I'm working on a client now, all I will be thinking about is you beneath me in this chair."

"I can't imagine what the crew would think if they found out what we did," you mumble into his chest with a little laugh.

"They would think I'm a sterilizing expert because there will be no evidence of what happened here," he sits up and gently strokes your ass, and then gives it a pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, "You're in charge of the desk, you little minx; I'll do the chair," he winks at you.

You're left to blush again, swooning as you both get up to remove any trace of the two of you in the studio.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your thumb hovers over his name, considering calling him back just as you hear a knock at your door.

Answer your phone I've got so much to say I'm at my all-time low And it's just too much to take

Jungkook can raise his hands and admits he didn't handle that night as well as he could have, but he is truly sorry. He realizes that even if his intention wasn't to hurt or offend you, what he did wasn't his best moment. As much as he tells you that you are special to him and that what you two have is different—which is true—his actions didn't match his words, and you deserve better than that. Jungkook may not be the perfect gentleman, far from it, but he is better than that, especially when it concerns you.

As the hands of the clock tick away and more time passes, he gets up and begins pacing.

If you listened to his message you would have called by now right?

Jungkook isn't used to this—needing someone. Sure, he has desired certain women, and he always got them, but once the lust faded, he never wanted them to stay; never needed them to stay.

He hasn't always been like this, and he knows where it all began: the fear of giving his all to someone and then losing them, of handing over his heart to another and having them desecrate it.

Jungkook refused to be like his father; he watched him give his mother everything and love her immensely, only for her to run off without regard for him or Jungkook.

He fears emotionally connecting with someone else will end as he has always seen: being left alone and heartbroken.

Because inevitably love is never simple, nor is it equal in the sacrifice of pouring oneself into another.

He can't imagine what could be worse than letting someone in and loving so wholly only to be left empty because you offered yourself up to someone undeserving.

Jungkook knows how good of a man his father is, and if he could get burned and scarred by love, Jungkook knows he doesn't stand a chance.

And who would willingly walk into a fire?

When people asked him why he didn't get into a serious relationship, he would say, “I like change. Life is too long to commit to one person and too short not to explore your options.”

But that was before he discovered you. Once you fit into his life so perfectly he knew he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He knew he had found that one constant in his life.

The constant being: Y/L/N Y/N.

What he shared with you has always been simple, and the effort you both put in has always been equal.

Jungkook never believed he would find that kind of connection, one that flows with ease. Now that he has found it, he desires to keep you in his life and wants you to remain a part of him.

He will walk through the flames if you're on the other side.

Jungkook has never been fond of lingering and preferred moving from one thing to the next, one woman to the next. He didn't enjoy being too close; he always kept people at a distance maybe not physically but emotionally. Tattooing has been the only steady thing in his life; he was committed to his craft.

But you broke down his walls, shattered the pattern—you got close. He found the courage to let his guard down. He knows there is nothing to be wary of, no looming feeling that he will be met with disappointment. Everything is easy with you.

His cowardice had him ruling out a love that hadn't happened yet. Maybe he is a fool, but he can't live with regret. He's ready to dive off the deep end. It's draining to always be on the defence, ready to push people away, and he's tired. He wants to settle down and commit to you.

Jungkook can be vulnerable around you; he knows you won't use his weaknesses against him like people have in his past. You don't even view them as things that make him weak just what makes him human, because no one can be perfect. However, he would argue that you seem to be pretty damn close.

He feels most comfortable with you; he trusts you and can be himself. There is no pretence with you; Jungkook likes who he is around you.

Jungkook loves you.

In your eyes, he is the guy who comforted you when he saw how nervous you were while getting your first tattoo. The one who keeps an extra hoodie in his car for you because you are never dressed for the weather. The one who finishes work and picks up takeout for the two of you to eat together. That's the Jungkook you see, the one you know better than anyone else—the one you have wrapped around your precious finger.

You've never asked him to be any different from who he is, despite his shortcomings in many aspects. You never judge him for the life he's leading and never pressure him to change his ways, no matter how flawed. Yet you still never expect the worst from him.

So now, all he fears is that he has accomplished the one thing he dreaded the most, and has destroyed the link holding the two of you together.

Should he go to your place?

Jungkook hasn't gone over because he didn't want to seem overbearing; he wanted to give you your space until you felt ready to talk to him on your terms. Also, if you weren't answering his calls, you most likely wouldn't answer your door either.

But he doesn't want you to think he won't fight for you. He won't lose you without a lack of trying. If Jungkook is anything, he is persistent. He has too much left to say to you and he isn't about to sit here and take this distance any longer. He's willing to do whatever it takes.

As he looks out of his window and stares at the hundreds of lights, he feels a new surge of determination; he is rising from this low point he has sunk into, fed up with wallowing in his self-pity.

He turns and strides to his door, yanking it open with vigour. He sprints down the stairs and rushes outside into the chilly night, heading straight for his car.

Jungkook pulls out of his spot and drives the familiar route to your house, accelerating down the road at the maximum speed permitted by law. In his state of urgency, it seems that all he encounters are red lights and stop signs.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light turns green.

Answer your phone I've got to get to you God, I hope you're alone And someone new isn't next to you

Y/N POV

You gather yourself and halt your wandering thoughts to get up and check who is at your door. You are not expecting anyone, and you told your friends you won't be going out with them tonight. Your excuse was being too tired from work, but honestly, you just were too sad to pretend that you were okay.

Could it be him? He said he wouldn't give up, that he had to see me.

Do you want it to be him? You would be lying to yourself if you said no.

So it's a surprise when you open the door and see Taehyung standing there with his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on his heels.

A part of you is disappointed, not because it's Taehyung but because it's not Jungkook.

"Tae? I said in the group chat that I'm not going out tonight. Didn't you see my message?"

He looks you up and down and barges in, walking past you.

"And didn't you see my message? I said you are going out tonight and I was coming over to pick you up. Why aren't you ready?"

To be fair you were so preoccupied on your phone, listening to Jungkook's message and reminiscing, that you didn't notice any other messages. But when you go to your chats, you see his words are true.

He plops down on your couch, stretching his arm out on the back and gives you an expectant look, his eyes wide and his brows raised.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? Go get ready," he makes a shooing gesture with his hand and continues.

"The clubs aren't open all night—well, actually they are..." his brows furrow as he looks off into the distance for a brief moment, then catches himself. "But I don't have all night, so let's go!" He demands with a clap of his hands.

"I'm not going out tonight, Tae. I told everyone I'm staying home."

You lie down on the couch next to his seated figure, with your back resting against the armrest.

"Didn't we just go over this?" he points between the two of you. "You are going out; everyone is already at the club. They got a table, and I'm sure Jimin has already downed a shocking amount of shots, so we have to leave soon if we want to catch up."

Taehyung taps your knee twice and then shoves your legs off the couch, bringing you to a sitting position. You take a deep breath and throw your head back, crossing your arms while closing your eyes.

"I don't feel like going out. I want to stay home."

"And do what? Continue to sulk over pretty tattoo boy?"

You open your eyes and turn your head toward him, pouting, "I was not sulking."

He stares at you with a raised brow, filled with doubt.

Rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh, your arms drop to your sides, "I'm just not in the mood, I'll only bring down the vibe."

Taehyung turns his body to face you, a sympathetic expression on his face.

"You're only making this harder for yourself by just sitting around and thinking about him, Y/N. I understand that you like him a lot—I do—but a guy like that isn't worth wasting your life waiting for him."

You look down at your hands in your lap and chip at your nail polish.

"He's been leaving me messages. He tells me how sorry he is and that he misses me. He sounds like he's having a rough time, too. That doesn't erase what he did, I know, but it was just one mistake. He's a good man, Tae. I've always known he wasn't perfect, but everyone has faults, right?"

Taehyung holds your hand and squeezes it, leaning down to meet your gaze. His voice is careful when he speaks.

"People like him always know the right thing to say. If he were such a good guy, he wouldn't have used you the way he did. Yes, everyone has faults, but you can find someone whose faults don't hurt you. It may have been only one mistake, but if he truly cared about you as he claimed, he would have never treated you that way."

Tears form in your eyes and your voice cracks. "It's just—I know him; it sounds pathetic, but he has shown me a side of himself that I know he doesn't show everyone. The real him and that's the Jungkook who has my heart. That's the Jungkook I love. We've experienced so much together, it's difficult to just move on from him."

"If you don't try to move on from him, how can you expect to, babe?"

He's right; you haven't tried. Throughout this entire period of your ignoring him, you have consistently kept Jungkook in your thoughts. Every time you went out with friends, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, and every time you held your phone—Jungkook. When you woke up, when you were at work, and when you went to bed—Jungkook. Even when you heard a knock at your door, as Taehyung did earlier, you hoped it was Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

Your mind and heart were devoted to Jungkook. Everything revolved around him.

Your tears overflow, and you finally break. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, and you cry into his shoulder. He holds you until you calm down, and your sobs turn into sniffles.

You lift your head and wipe your cheeks.

"I'm such a mess, I'm so sorry, Tae. You came out to have a good time, and here you are consoling me. I have probably fucked up your fun night out," you croak out. "I must seem so stupid, all hung up over a guy."

"You haven't ruined anything, and you certainly aren't stupid. I would never think that of you. I know how much of yourself you give to someone important to you. I wish you would give yourself to someone worthy, not someone who takes advantage of you. You are an amazing person, and if Jungkook hasn't realized how lucky he is to have you, then he's the stupid one, Y/N."

"Thank you, Tae. Not just for tonight, but for listening to me go on about Jungkook this past month like a sad, broken record. You stuck by me, have been so caring, and always validated my emotions. I swear I'm the one who's lucky and unworthy of you."

"Nonsense, you know you can depend on me anytime," he says, patting your head and smiling affectionately.

You smile back, glance down, and see his shirt is stained with your tears.

"I ruined your shirt," you sniffle, pinching at the fabric.

Taehyung looks down at it and shrugs, "Hey, I prefer your tears to stain my shirt rather than Jimin's vomit," he jokes to lighten the mood.

You laugh, and he points at your face, his expression bright.

"Aha! There she is! Happy Y/N, I thought I had lost her!" he exclaims.

He turns his head, looking around, arms stretched out as if speaking to a crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, no need to fear; I have managed to make Y/N laugh."

Taehyung once again proves to be the best friend one could have; you can always count on him to cheer you up and gather the pieces of your broken heart without fail.

"Shut up, Tae. I have neighbours," you giggle, playfully pushing him.

He joins your giggles and returns your playful push, "Well then, go get dressed! If you don't I will run up and down the hallway screaming. I came here to take you out and have fun. Sitting at home alone can't be better than partying with your insanely funny, incredibly handsome best friend. And if that isn't enough, Seokin's dancing is a sure way to lift anyone's spirit."

"Okay, fine," you agree, getting up with a big smile. The image of Seokjin's dancing already boosts your mood.

Making your way to your bedroom, you yell out, "But if anyone comments on my swollen eyes, you'll be dealing with them!"

"I've got your back, babe. Don't worry!"

You can always count on Taehyung.

Tell me, tell me now am I too late Is there somebody new taking my place? Is there somebody's lips on you Where mine used to be, yeah?

Jungkook parks across the street from your building; he sits in his car, pondering whether it's too late to knock at your door. Are you already asleep? Should he have waited until tomorrow? If you answer and open it to find him standing there, will you shut it in his face?

He knows right now he's not your favourite person, but he doesn't believe you would be so cruel as to turn him away at your doorstep.

He rubs his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh.

How could he let things end up like this?

He ruined something so special, so sacred. Building a relationship so pure and superior doesn't happen to everyone, and he managed to have it hanging by a thread.

Your relationship can't just end because of one mistake—a big mistake, yes, but he believes that what you two have is strong enough to overcome this. The two of you have made so many wonderful, meaningful memories.

Jungkook remembers how good things were before this—before he ruined everything.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

Jungkook never imagined he would witness such a breathtaking sight: you bare before him, glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, lovely sounds escaping as he traced wet kisses along the nape of your neck, down your throat, over the curves of your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue over a sensitive bud, drawing out his name from your throat, the same one now decorated with shades of blue and purple.

“Please, Kook,” you beg, pleading with him for more, and he is more than willing to give it to you, knowing he can hardly deny you anything.

He smiles, kissing his way back up to your lips, positioning his body over yours and aligning his hips so he can slide into your warmth with a soft thrust, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs showing how aroused he has made you.

You clutch at his shoulders with a moan, nails digging in and creating crescent shapes with every thrust he makes. Jungkook fucks you slow and deep, hitting every nerve within you, making you unravel before him in no time at all. His lips move slowly against yours, tongues twirling together as your legs wrap tightly around his body, drawing him closer and deeper into you, his sighs of contentment pouring into your mouth.

Jungkook is sure this is what heaven feels like: his hands on you, hips rocking against your own as you devour the sounds escaping each other's lips. You encourage one another until he picks up pace, gazing down at your face, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

The coil in your stomach tightens, twisting, and is ready to snap. Jungkook is also at his limit, eyes hooded but maintaining eye contact with yours, his forearms supporting his weight on either side of your body.

Overcome with pleasure, the feeling of his skin against your own, united with you in the most intimate way two people can be. The act is sinful but fully infused with the profound bond you both share. What you and Jungkook have cannot be expressed in words, and he does not think the two of you need to articulate what you both understand.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he husks, gently nibbling at your jaw.

One of his hands moves to where your bodies meet, flicking his thumb over your clit repeatedly. Then you come undone, the release so intense that his name echoes off every corner of the small bedroom. He continues throughout your orgasm, prolonging it until the sensation of your walls tightening around him brings him to his climax, spilling inside of you with a groan of your name, lips pressed harshly to yours, putting everything he feels into a single kiss.

He pulls away, carefully removes the condom and ties a knot at its end before disposing of it and falling onto the bed, shifting onto his side to look at you. The moonlight streams through the window, illuminating your skin in a radiant glow. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the surface of your arm, moving down until he reaches your hip, pulling you closer to him as you tuck your head into his chest.

Jungkook spots the numerous red crescents on your body already beginning to take on a darker colour — almost as deep as the black ink he used for your tattoo. Jungkook wishes for nothing more than the colour of the marks to be so deep that it will cover you forever.

He holds you close, his thumb brushing over the familiar tattoo on your hip— the everlasting mark that brought you two together. You found each other that day months ago when you walked into his studio and had him ink his design on you, and ever since then, you have been a part of his life. The ink serves as a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, etched onto your skin just as you are to him.

“You should let me give you another one."

“What do you think I should get?” you whisper against his chest.

"My name, here," he replies, his inked finger tracing just above the left side of your chest, right over your heart.

You smile as you push him so that he lies on his back; you move to lie on your stomach between his legs, your chin resting on his chest. His hands come to your back, caressing it up and down.

"Hmm, and you'll get my name here," you lightly run your pointer finger over his left pec.

Jungkook lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles tenderly, and nods while humming in agreement. His fingers linger, skimming your face as his gaze softens. His eyes are filled with adoration as he looks at you.

Jungkook can feel your heartbeat against his stomach; he wonders if you can feel his own under your touch. Both of your hearts are beating rapidly, which he assumes is due to the physical exertion you both just experienced and not from this impassioned moment you two are having.

He can physically feel how much affection there is between you two. He has never felt that before. It's moments like this that make Jungkook feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

"Aren't tattoo artists usually against getting other people's names tattooed?" you tease with a smirk and a raised brow.

Jungkook shrugs with a smirk, his tongue playing with his lip rings, "I live by my own rules."

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, "Oh, what a rebel you are."

Jungkook's hands go to your sides and tickle you with a gentle pinch.

"Kook!" you laugh as you jolt further up his body.

"Kook!" he mocks in a high-pitched voice, imitating you before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

You pout and make a soft 'hmph' sound so insanely cute that Jungkook can't resist the smile spreading across his face; he laughs and then kisses your pouty lips and all over your face. You giggle and lightly tug his necklace with your finger, bringing his mouth to yours for a long, sweet kiss. When you break apart, Jungkook gives one final peck above your left breast.

"I was serious, you know," he murmurs, voice low. He juts his chin lightly to where he last placed his lips.

"Haven't you marked me enough?" you stretch out your neck and gesture at the hickey-covered skin.

"I wanna mark you every way I can, baby," he smiles smugly.

One of your hands plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the other plays with the hoop in his ear. You avoid eye contact, keeping your eyes focused on the earring.

"Tattoos are forever, Kook," you say sheepishly.

"You're telling me," Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head toward his right arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He turns his head to kiss your wrist and then cups your face with both hands, making you look at him, "Hey, you planning on going somewhere and not telling me?"

You shake your head, his big hands still holding it.

"Hmm, I'm a bit worried now; I need to hear you say it," he squints his eyes, teasing.

"No, I'm not going anywhere," you grin.

Jungkook mirrors your grin and nods, "Good," he pulls your face closer and nudges his nose against yours, "Because I'm not either."

He squishes your cheeks together in his hands, making your lips pucker out.

"It's not easy to find someone this cute," he coos, shaking your head.

You pull your head from his grasp and lightly slap his chest. His hands slide down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze, long fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

"Even harder to find someone equally as sexy,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth grazing lightly. His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his body against yours.

"Huh, it can't be too hard, I found you," you quip, poking his cheek.

Jungkook gives your ass a spank, and you gasp as he flips you both over, with you now under his hovering body.

"Why don't I show you just how lucky we both are?" his tone dripping with seduction.

The tip of his nose trails down your neck as his lips ghost over your skin, down to the valley of your breasts. He stops to knead the soft mounds, surging forward to swirl his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. He hums in satisfaction. He releases it, giving it a gentle bite, and switches to show the other the same attention.

Once pleased, he continues his trail past your stomach and stops at your pulsing heat. He nestles his head between your legs, his hands grip your thighs and spread you wide open, your already slick folds clench around nothing in anticipation.

Jungkook gives your clit a teasing lick before diving in without hesitation. You whimper when his mouth latches onto you, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit, your hands flying into his hair. He groans, his eyes rolling back as he tastes you, his tongue circling your clit and then flicking over it repeatedly before dragging down to press at your entrance. Your hand tightens in his hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole.

“Fuck, Kook,” you whine, grinding harder as your thighs tighten around his head.

He exhales through his nose, eyes crinkling as he smiles into your pussy when you buck your hips against his face. The sequence of sucking, licking, and prodding with his lips and tongue has you both writhing in ecstasy. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against you fill the room. The intimate night of passion continues until the moon gives way to the sun.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

Jungkook is pulled out of his memories when he sees the door of the main entrance to your building open. He watches you step out, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest upon seeing you.

Your short, tight dress hugs your body in all the right places. Your tall, thin high heels complement your legs phenomenally. Your hair cascades down your figure, making you look like an angel. You look gorgeous.

The sight of you would bring any man to his knees. You must be dressed to go out for the night, so he must act now if he doesn't want his drive here to be for nothing. He moves to get out of his car, but just as his hand touches the handle, he sees a man walk out right behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook looks closely at the man's face; he's good-looking. He's sure he recognizes him from your posts. He looks like one of the guys you've tagged in your pictures, the ones where he's had his arm around you. The happy idiot. What was it... Taemin? Taejin? Taewoo?

Whoever he is, he extends his arm for you to link with yours, and you do. You're about to step down the stairs when you stop and say something to the man. You have an anxious expression, but whatever you say to the man beside you only brings a fond smile to his face. He responds to you and leans down to kiss your cheek.

The cheek that Jungkook's lips have been on more times than he can count.

And you light up as if he made everything better. You walk down the stairs, arm in arm with the man whom Jungkook worries has taken his place.

Once you step off the last step, you stop once more, unlink your arm, and pull out your phone. The light from the screen shines on your face; you tap your fingers on it for a few seconds before putting it back in your purse. You relink your arms with who Jungkook thinks is the luckiest guy in the world and set off down the street, heading to your destination.

Jungkook feels the wind being knocked out of him. He hadn't even realized he had gotten out of his car. He stands far enough that you don't notice him, but close enough to see you perfectly. To see how you were on the phone he knows is full of his messages and calls—that you are still ignoring.

Tell me, tell me now, what can I do To make it up to you Won't you tell me, please? Tell me, please

All the hope and determination he had when he left his house seemed to have disintegrated. He feels small, much like your figure becomes as you walk further away from him on the arm of another.

Jungkook stares at your back until he loses sight of you as you round the corner. He stands there feeling like he has just been slapped in the face for the second time tonight, but this one stings much more.

What else can he do?

Jungkook doesn't know how to make it up to you, and at this point, he's unsure if he's fighting a losing battle. You seem to be doing just fine without him. It hurts to see you happy when he has been miserable without you.

He needs you to talk to him, to tell him what to do to win you back. What he has to do so he can hear your laugh, smell your scent, and touch your skin. He needs to have you back in his arms, on his lips—in his life.

He tilts his head back, eyes focused on the moon and how it mocks him, shining brightly while he is filled with darkness.

He stands there, disoriented; all he can do is let out a bitter laugh at the irony that he drove all the way here to watch you walk away from him—now and quite possibly forever.

With a sad smile, he is overwhelmed with questions, out of his mind. Why are you two ending? How can you? How can you two end?

All your memories together overflow out of his perforated heart, he puts his hand over his chest trying to block them and keep them inside, but they escape through his fingers.

Jungkook had you by his side and took you for granted; now he is watching you be cherished by another man while he stands by like a stranger in the night.

He doesn't want to be like this, he doesn't. He hates this, really hates this.

He doesn't believe it would hurt this much even if his heart stopped.

Answer your phone I've got to talk to you I'm out here in the cold Trying to get through to you, oh

Jungkook never envisioned that when he finally loved someone, he would be left alone and heartbroken— not because you decided to run off, not because you were undeserving, but because he pushed you away.

He took too long to walk through the flames and got burned. He dove off the deep end too late into a pool of emptiness and hit the bottom.

Jungkook stands in the street, the cold air biting at his cheeks, but he can't find the strength to return to his car and drive home. He came here on a mission to talk to you face to face. He hopes that if he stands here long enough, you might walk back around that corner and come straight to him. He hopes you will answer his plea and do something to fix him. Hold him in your arms and tell him that everything will be okay and that the two of you will work together to mend what has been broken.

But you don't, and Jungkook's heart may be beyond repair at this rate.

Jungkook's heart hurts so badly that it's strange that he's even alive.

He should have followed you, chased you blindly even if you were trying to run away from him. He should have yelled at the top of his lungs that there's a hole in his heart that can't be filled and he's dying of pain.

How can he forget you? He doesn't know how to do that.

Like the tattoo he inked on your hip, you are etched in him— an indelible impression on his heart.

You are the only person he wants, your hands to comfort him, your voice to soothe his heart.

He'll have to settle for listening to your voice through the phone, even if it's only your voicemail.

Jungkook digs into his pocket for his phone, unlocks it and with your name already on the screen, presses the call button and waits.

Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone

But he doesn't have to wait for long.

He's immediately met with a voice, but not your sweet voice; instead it's an answering machine.

And now he has been slapped for the third time tonight, so hard that he stands there in the cold, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles might bleed. He releases a shaky breath as his eyes fill with tears, and spill over before he knows it.

Jungkook is hit with the reality that you still refuse to talk to him. You have now blocked his number on your phone and blocked him out of your life.

"We are unable to reach the person you are calling at this time. Please try calling back later."

↬ so how do we feel? hope he suffered enough for your liking. let me know what you think! muah! 💋

taglist: @bangtans-momma @celticcountrygal @annafarrr

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veltana · 1 year ago

Text

No one as sweet as you - Mafia!Stucky/Reader

✦ Pairing: Stucky/Reader ✦ Word count: ~9,4k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Mafia AU, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective!stucky, TW: reader is verbally and physically abused by john walker, idiots in love, sharing a bed, poly relationship, piv sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, praise kink, pet names (Sweets), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends. ✦ Note: This is a fic that was previously posted on AO3, at the beginning of the year. But since I'm stuck in writer's block right now I thought I would post this in case you haven't read it. It's one of my favorites. There are some short prequel fics to this also posted on AO3, about when they were living together in college. I'll post those too in the following weeks.

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

The bouncer gives you one glance before he opens the door for you and the line of people you pass shout angrily but you don’t even spare them a glance, your thoughts elsewhere. The music in the club usually invigorates you but tonight it passes through without leaving a trace.

Making your way to Monica at the bar, the people you pass shoot you weird glances and you know you must look a mess. When she sees you she comes right over, the music is too loud to talk so you share a squeeze of the forearm in place of a hug before she pours you your favorite wine, with a pitying smile at your smeared mascara. You throw a kiss at her before making your way to the back and once again the big man at the door opens it for you after a quick look.

The music is muted as you make your way to the stairs at the back that take you up to their private room. When your heels land at the top and you meet Bucky's eyes he lifts the girl currently on his lap off and declares "Everyone out."

Steve shoots him an irritated look before his eyes follow Bucky's and sees you. You stand perfectly still while the women and men who were enjoying a private party with two of the biggest mobsters in New York mill past you down the stairs, some even shoot you dirty looks.

When the last person has passed, you take a step towards them, but before you're two steps in, Bucky has taken the glass from your hand and Steve has lifted you into his arms. You cling to him, hands grasping his shirts, and finally, you know you’re safe.

Steve sits down with you in his lap, cradling your head to lean it against him, the other arm holding you tight at your waist. Bucky's palms are gentle when he rubs your back soothingly. None of them say anything at first but the tears running down your face speak for themselves. You made it all the way without breaking down but with them, you can be vulnerable. For the last seven years, they’ve been the rock, the shelter, and your haven.

"Talk to us, Sweets," Bucky's voice is only that soft with you, maybe sometimes with Steve too, “What’s going on?” You try to take a deep breath, but it just stutters. After a few more tries it’s better but you’re not sure where to begin. They give you time, and don't press you on information, like they otherwise do in their line of work.

Finally, you release Steve's shirt and instead, you find the hand he has wrapped around your waist, twisting the rings on his fingers as you try to speak. You don't want to look at them, the shame and the anxiety is running high in your body but you want to tell them, you just have to find the right words.

"You know the guy I've been seeing," you start and feel Steve's arms tighten around you. Before you can say more Bucky mutters "I'm gonna kill him." Steve is calmer and asks, "What about John, Sweets?" He speaks into your hair, his voice is gentle but it has a hard edge. "He's been so sweet since we started going out, but he's been having a rough time at work lately," you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to remember, your heart beating like crazy. The memories bring forth the panic and the fear again and your breath gets shallow.

"It's alright Sweets, you're here with us, nothing can hurt you," Bucky's low voice is comforting, together with their touch, and you know he’s telling you the truth. It’s the reason you came here instead of going home.

You take a few more breaths and continue "So I thought I'd do something nice for him. We had a spa day and while he soaked in the tub I made dinner and dressed up for him." Frowning hard, your fingers spin the rings on Steve's hand faster and faster the more your anxiety builds, knowing what’s coming.

"And everything was great until I poured the wine and spilled some on the tablecloth." Your mouth opens and closes a few times and the tears start to fall again but Bucky is there with his thumbs, cradling your face and brushing them away, while Steve rocks you gently in his embrace.

"He was furious," you cry. "Said I ruined everything! He threw the wine in my face, then the bottle across the room. He tried to grab me but I ran out of there." There is a long silence when you finish, it’s just your sobs and the music from the other side of the wall. Then Steve says "I'm gonna fucking kill him," his voice laced with rage, and he hugs you even closer.

"I took a cab here, I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t wanna go home." With the last words out you feel a small relief. You’ve told them. You’ve told someone. The scene still plays in your head, seeing John's eyes turn black with rage when the drops of rosé landed on the white linen, feeling the fear when he started screaming.

"Thank you for telling us, Sweets. You’re an incredible person," Steve says and moves you out of his lap and over to Bucky's. They treat you with the utmost care, moving slowly, giving you time to protest if you want, or detangle yourself if that's what you desire. But you let them manipulate your body how they like because sometimes they know what you need more than you do.

"You did nothing wrong," he goes on to say, holding onto your hands, letting his thumbs caress the skin. "John is an absolute fucking asshole and no one should be treated like that.” You meet his green-blue eyes that are only soft for you, and Bucky. Right now, Steve isn’t the feared mobster that people avert their eyes from when he enters a room, scared they’re going to end up in a ditch because they looked at him wrong. No, this Steve is your best friend.

"I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to go home in case he comes there," you confess. "You'll stay with us," Bucky decides, voice finite. "Let’s go home so you can take a shower and change clothes." You nod and are about to stand up but Bucky is quicker, changing his grip and holding you close as he gets up. He carries you to the car and doesn't let go of you until you're in their mansion, in the room you have there.

When he puts you down your feet are a little unsteady and they both look at you with concern, but you give them a weak smile “It’s okay.” "We'll be right outside, shout if you need anything," Steve tells you and when you nod they both step out and close the door softly behind them.

For a moment you stand still, trying to make sense of the last hours, wondering how everything went to shit. Then you finally get a good look at yourself in the tall mirror and see the black rivulets of mascara and eyeliner smudged down your cheeks, the foundation almost gone.

The dress is ruined by the wine and even if it was expensive and you can get it dry cleaned you don’t want it anymore. You pull it off and throw it into the trash can, quickly followed by the heels. The lingerie is one of your favorite sets but you're unsure if you will ever be able to enjoy it again without remembering how you chose it especially for John. After a moment it goes into the trash, and the earrings too, feeling like you need everything from the night to be gone.

The only thing you keep on your body is the necklace that was a gift from Bucky and Steve years ago and you haven’t taken it off since. It's custom-made with three delicate chains in gold, silver, and black twisted together. You loved it the moment you saw it, knowing that the chains were the three of you, twisted together through the rest of your lives. When you touch it with your fingers it makes you feel better, because you can feel them with you.

The shower feels more than just bodily cleansing and when you remove the last pieces of your smeared makeup, smoothing eye cream over your puffy eyes, the feeling of fear and panic is distant.

In the closet are a bunch of your clothes, probably more than you like to admit, but the best part is the drawer with their old t-shirts. You pull one out, not sure which of them it used to belong to, but it’s worn and soft against your skin. For a moment you press it against your nose, breathing in the detergent that reminds you of this place and all the wonderful memories that you have with them, before you find your pajama pants.

Out in your room you sit on the bed and look around at the muted colors. Bucky and Steve insisted that the room was yours, not just a guest room, and it makes you smile a little when you think about how much fun you had decorating it.

After taking a deep breath you open the door and find them just a few steps away. The look in Bucky's eyes is murderous and Steve's fists are clenched by his side, but when they turn to you they go back to being your best friends that you met in college all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" Bucky steps up to you and pulls you into a soft hug, tucking your head underneath his chin as you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in the smell of him. Steve comes up behind you, placing his palms on your shoulders, rubbing the muscles carefully. "Better now," you answer. "But I never had dinner so I'm a bit hungry."

Bucky pulls away from you, cradling your face, tilting it up until you're looking right into his light blue eyes. "Let's go raid the kitchen," he smiles and holds your gaze for a few seconds more and there is so much love in those eyes it's almost scary. You know he would burn down the city if it made you happy, they both would, and that intensity is one of the many things that have kept you from finding out what it would be like to be theirs. You're not sure you'd be able to handle it.

When Bucky lets go of you, Steve's arm goes around your waist and he pulls you into him, Bucky takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and you walk to the kitchen. You sit down at the kitchen island while they open the fridge.

"The chef made mac'n’cheese," Steve says and pulls out an oven pan, covered in tin foil with a post-it note on top with instructions for heating it. Bucky turns on the oven and says, "Want something to drink Sweets?"

"Soda?" you ask and Steve pulls a can out of the fridge before settling down beside you, handing it to you. You hand it right back "Please? I don't wanna fuck up my nails." That makes him chuckle as he opens it and the sound makes you warm on the inside so you lean your head against his shoulder.

"Thank you," you sigh. "For always being here for me. I'm sorry I ruined your party." "You didn't ruin shit," Bucky spits out, glaring at you from where he is standing by the oven. Steve and you chuckle at his harsh tone but then he leans forward, over the counter towards you, resting his large arms against the surface.

"I mean it, Sweets, don't you ever think you ruin anything by showing up, for any reason," his voice is stern but you know it comes from a place of love. "Thank you, Bucky, it means a lot," you smile.

When the oven is warm Bucky puts the tray in and pulls out plates. It only takes a few minutes and your tummy rumbles as the kitchen fills with the smell of cheese. Bucky and Steve make small talk about work things and you're grateful for them filling the silence while you finally get some food.

But it isn't the nice chicken that you cooked for John that you looked forward to eating and your eyes begin to burn. Even though you try to force the tears back they come anyway and run down your cheeks as you eat. Neither Bucky nor Steve notice until you reach for a paper towel and sniffle loudly. Not a second later you're wrapped up in Steve's embrace, crying into his shirt again while Bucky caresses your hair and nape. They mumble sweet things to you and tell you that you're safe and that nothing is ever going to hurt you again.

After a few minutes, the tears run dry. "I'm okay," you say and Steve loosens his hold, his eyes filled with concern for you. "You sure?" "Yeah, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Should probably try to get some sleep.” "We're sleeping in my room," Bucky decides and you nod, Steve too.

It's not unusual for the three of you to share a bed when one of you has had a rough time. The first time it happened was after finals and you all fell asleep in Steve's bed, totally exhausted, and slept better than you'd had in weeks.

Then it was after break-ups, yours, Steve's, Bucky's, somehow you all ended up in a bed together every time and it wasn't sexual at any point, just friends being there for each other and it continued through the years. The only time it was out of the question was when one of you was in a relationship, then it just felt weird, and from previous experience, it wasn't something that partners were all that accepting of.

You retrieve your pillows and cover from your room before settling in Bucky’s huge bed, your feet twisted up with Steve's, and Bucky is holding your hand. It's nice, it's familiar and you drift off knowing you're safe with them.

The room is dark when their soft voices wake you, but that might be because of the black-out curtains and not because it's still night. They’ve moved close enough to you that you can feel the warmth from their bodies on either side of you, and Bucky’s chest is right in front of your eyes when you open them slightly to peek. They don't notice you're awake and you don't feel like announcing it either, curious what they’re talking about.

"We let her decide." Even if Steve's tone is hushed it's still hard. "She is too sweet, you know she would never hurt a fly, she's going to say no," Bucky protests harshly in a whisper. This is interesting, you think.

"Even if you and I are fine with getting blood on our hands, maybe she doesn't want to live with that, maybe she wants to press charges." Steve has always been the more level-headed of the two, good with looking at things from all angles and keeping his cool. Bucky huffs and you want to giggle. His emotions always get him in trouble, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. When Bucky is angry he sees red and when he loves he does it with his whole soul and being. One time you asked Steve how he isn’t dead yet since his poker face seems to suck, but Steve explained that when they’re doing business he is usually calm and collected. When his emotions finally break through, people know they should probably run.

"Fine.” You can tell Bucky is not happy but he lowers his voice even more, and now it’s tinged with something else. “But I'm never letting her go again." His words together with his gentle tone make your heart skip. There was a time when you seriously thought about asking them to see if the three of you could work it out, and be more than just friends. But what you have with them is so precious that if it fails in the end, and you lose your best friends, you're not sure how you're going to go on.

"And you think I will?" Steve mutters. "We should have said something a long time ago." "Well, we can't go back in time. All I know is that I love her and I can't see her with anyone else ever again," Bucky's voice sounds like it's going to crack. He never cries but that is as close as it gets.

Steve reaches over you towards him, you can't see what he does but you know how Steve's comforting hands look on Bucky, you've seen it before. Sometimes they're even sweeter with each other than they are with you, when they think no one can see them, not even you. It's so clear that they love each other deeply, honestly it's surprising that they don't just date each other.

You hear Bucky hum in contentment and Steve gives a small soft laugh. It feels like a good time as any to pretend to wake up. You file away their words for another day, not ready to deal with them now in the wake of what’s happened. First, you need to heal the broken heart you're already nursing before thinking about giving it away again.

With a groan you turn from your side to your back, stretching and blinking your eyes open. They're lying on their sides, both resting their heads on their hands. "What time is it?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Just past nine," Bucky informs you and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. "And you two are still here?" "Just for you," Steve says softly and finds your hand, twisting your fingers together.

Both of them are early risers and you hate mornings, something they tease you for endlessly. "Honestly though, have you already, like, gone for a run, had breakfast, and then sealed some important deal?" "Nope." Bucky slides his arm in under your neck, placing the other hand on your hip, and pulls you closer to him. "We didn't want to leave in case you woke up." Steve shuffles closer, his chest pressing into your shoulder. "Didn't want you to think we left you all by yourself."

You hum and decide to ask "Would it be okay if I stay here a few days?" "Sweets, stay as long as you want. It's your home as much as ours,” Steve answers. "No,” you correct. “My name is definitely not on any papers for this house." "We can fix that if that's what you want. Just move here." Bucky is serious but you decide to laugh it off. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Like old times." he smiles.

"Except I have no desire to listen to the people you bring home scream and moan, got enough of that in college,” tumbles out of your mouth without really thinking of it. They exchange a look but before they can say anything you hastily continue. "Do you think I need to break up with John, or do you think he got the message when I left?"

An uneasy silence falls and Bucky breaks it. "I'm gonna be honest with you Sweets, I really wanna fucking kill him, and make it as painful and as horrifying for him as possible. Death will feel like a blessing in the end." Steve speaks next. "But it's your decision, and if you wanna press charges against him, we'll make our lawyers available."

It’s a lot to take in at that moment. "I don't know,” you answer truthfully. “It still hurts, I'm still scared but I'm not sure what will make it better." "When you've decided you let us know and we'll do whatever you want." Steve bends down to kiss the top of your head.

"If I see him on the street or something though I'm gonna punch him," Bucky says casually before letting go of you and getting out of bed. When his warmth leaves you, you whine and that makes him chuckle. He kneels on the bed and kisses your forehead. "Steve will keep you company while I make breakfast." "You mean go get what the chef has already prepared?" you joke. Bucky shoots you a look before leaving the bedroom.

"We should be glad he isn't actually cooking. Remember when he tried to make pancakes for his girlfriend and almost burned down the apartment," Steve notes. "That's because he got distracted. I mean, I'm glad I came out of my room when I did but the image of Bucky and her on the kitchen table still haunts me," you chuckle.

"You weren't exactly innocent back in those days either," Steve points out with a laugh. "But I never did it on the communal surfaces," you defend with a huff. "No, all we got was listening to you trying to stifle every sound and failing miserably." "Well, at least I didn't break a wall while fucking someone." "It was a shitty wall, never have that problem here." "See that's why I don't wanna move here." "We can soundproof your room?" "Or I can just live in my apartment?"

Bucky comes back with a breakfast tray and places it on the bedside table before pulling out your phone from his pants. "It's been buzzing nonstop since I got down," he explains and hands it to you right as the screen lights up with an incoming call.

"It's John," you tell them, and your chest floods with anxiety as you stare at the screen and sit up against the headboard. "Answer it," Steve sits up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Bucky is pressed against you much the same on your other side. "On speaker," he instructs and takes out his own phone to record the call.

Your hands shake as you swipe to answer. "H-hello." Your voice is wavering. "Baby! I'm sorry for yesterday, I'm sorry I got mad. I've been calling since you left, I've been so worried. I checked your place but you weren't home. Where are you?" John says in a worried voice. "I'm at a friend's house," you reply.

The feelings in your chest are conflicted, on one hand you never want to see him again but hearing his voice makes you remember that when he is good he is great, amazing even, and you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. For the last few months, you gave it your all and you were even prepared to tell him you love him.

"I'll come and pick you up and let me apologize properly," he sounds pained like he is actually sorry for what he did. Fuck, it's so tempting to go back but you know better. You know that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and getting wine thrown in your face is probably not the worst that can happen.

"No, John." You try to sound confident but you're not sure it comes across. "I don't think it's going to work out between us." The moment you say the words the tears well up and Steve starts rubbing your shoulder." You're doing great," he whispers right by your ear so John doesn't hear.

"Are you-" John sounds shocked. "Are you breaking up with me… over the phone?" "Yeah, sorry." You cringe, you shouldn't be sorry. "You scared me yesterday and I feel like I don't know you anymore."

"Babe you don't need to be scared of me, I would never hurt you I swear," he sounds like he is about to cry and a part of you wants to comfort him. "You threw wine in my face and said some really mean things," you point out.

"I didn't mean any of that, I promise. You know I've had a lot on my plate lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you." There is some part of you that desperately wants to believe him. "That's not an excuse," you go on. "I'm not an object for you to take out your frustration on. It's not going to work John."

There is a long silence before he speaks again and now his voice is laced with rage instead. "Then you can come get your fucking things right now." "John, please don't-" you start but he cuts you off.

"You fucking bitch, you lead me on for months and then you break up with me over the phone, because what? You think I’m gonna hit you or something?" "Yeah, maybe," you answer truthfully. "You're such a dumb bitch, I would never lay a hand on a woman I care about."

Both Steve and Bucky stir beside you. When you shoot them a glance they are both staring at the screen with murder in their eyes. "Calling me names won't change my mind, John," it hurts when he says them, like an actual stab in the heart and it brings out more tears.

Bucky leans over and taps the mute button. "There is no way you're going over there, we'll send Sam and Vis." You nod and unmute while John is raging on about how dumb and useless you are and how he wishes he'd never wasted his time on you. "I'm going to send some friends to pick up my things."

"Oh, so you won't even face me yourself?” his voice is unrecognizable now. “You know what? I'm glad for what I did, I'm not sorry anymore, you're obviously a fucking coward and not worth a second of my time." Every ounce of fight is gone from you, you're just tired and want it to be over. You don’t want to listen to the hurtful words anymore so you simply say "Goodbye John," and don't even wait for a response before hanging up. You drop the phone into the sheets and bury your face in your hands, your body jerking with sobs.

Steve and Bucky’s arms go around you but you hardly notice, everything is just excruciating pain, your heart smashed into a million pieces. Twenty-four hours ago you were happy with a man you thought you knew, and loved, but now everything is broken and you're not sure what you’re going to do next.

It takes a long time for you to stop crying and when it finally ends you're exhausted, again. The coffee Bucky brought has gone cold but Steve holds a glass of juice to your lips and makes you take a few sips before coaxing some yogurt into your mouth. "Steve is going to stay with you while I take care of a few things. If you need me, you tell him and I'll be right back," Bucky promises when he leaves the bed again, taking the tray with him out of the bedroom.

"Is he going to kill him?" you ask softly as you sink down under the covers. Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest until your face is squished against it. "No," his voice is soft. "Not without me." "Steve…" "Can you blame us, Sweets? John was lucky it was over the phone or else we would have beaten him into a pulp for saying those things."

"He never acted like that before," you whisper. "I'm just happy you got out before he put his hands on you," Steve whispers back. "If you had shown up with bruises yesterday I might have lost it." "I love you," you tell him and he kisses the top of your head. "I love you too, Sweets, and I know Bucky feels just the same." You hum and let the exhaustion take over.

They have switched when you wake the next time, you're in Bucky's arms and he is carding his fingers through your hair speaking quietly to you. "Wake up Sweets, it's time for dinner."

Even if you’ve slept right through lunch you shake your head and swing your leg over his hip, clinging to him. "Don't wanna get up," you whine. "If you eat dinner, we can watch a movie on the couch afterward." He knows just how to tempt you and you need something to try and take your mind off everything.

"Candy?" you pull back. Even if the light in the room is dim you can still see the blue in his eyes, and the crinkles at the corners when he smiles. "You know we keep stock of everything you like, there is always something sweet for our Sweets."

You hug him hard. "I love you Bucky, you know that right?" "I love you too, Sweets." He kisses the top of your head, much like Steve did earlier. "And I know Steve feels just the same." That makes you giggle "Steve said the same thing." "Well he is a smart man," he shrugs.

Bucky all but pulls you out of bed but he doesn't force you to change out of your pajamas. He leads you to the kitchen where Steve is plating the food and your stomach grumbles when you smell it. They have set the table with candles and it looks lovely but it also reminds you of your last candle-lit dinner. Bucky sees the look on your face turns you away from it and tilts your chin up with his fingertips, "It’s…” he begins, hesitating, trying to find the right words. “We want to replace every bad memory, but if it’s too much too soon we’ll throw it all out.”

The scary thing is that he is serious. If you said the word they would throw everything out, but you don't want that, you want a nice dinner with them and try to get past what happened. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t but you won’t know until you’ve tried. And if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that you are safe with them.

“It’s fine, I’ll try,” you promise with a smile before turning around to sit down at the table. Steve serves the food and Bucky pours you a glass of wine. After a few bites, Bucky brings up some stupid shit the three of you did a long time ago and through dinner, you reminisce about old times.

Since meeting John you haven't seen them as much because you learned early on that partners were weirded out or even jealous of what you had with them. Right now you can’t fathom why you would ever do that, because these two people are the best thing in your life.

You fold your napkin into your lap and look at them. "I'm sorry for, like, ghosting you the last few months," you swallow hard. "I've been a shitty friend but you always take care of me when I need you, and I’m so thankful for that. I promise I’ll do better."

"It's okay sweets," Steve smiles and reaches over the table to grasp your hand. Bucky takes the other and his thumb caresses your knuckles. "Don't apologize, there is no need." The lump in your throat is from love and not from sadness this time and you don't try to speak, just nod, squeezing their hands back.

Afterward, you cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie but ten minutes in you're already nodding off. When Steve and Bucky notice you're asleep they turn the TV off and Steve carries you up to Bucky's bedroom. "She has work tomorrow," Bucky whispers and pulls the cover up over your body. "Fuck, should we wake her?" Steve asks back. "No, let her sleep, she starts at nine so if we let her sleep til seven it should be fine."

Fortunately, the alarm on your phone goes off as usual but when you turn to snooze it, you instead roll into a warm chest. Steve grumbles and reaches for your phone, handing it to you before seizing you around the waist, and burying his face in your neck.

“Hey, I have to get up,” you mutter. It feels like your eyes are filled with sand and your head is pounding but you have to go to work nonetheless. “You don’t have to work,” he speaks into your skin and it makes a tingling feeling travel through you.

“Don’t be silly, let go of me,” you chuckle and detangle yourself. The other side of the bed is empty, Bucky already up. You drag yourself over to your room to shower before getting ready and eating breakfast. Steve insists on driving you to work and Bucky comes and sees you off with a long hug and a kiss on your hair. “I’ve put Clint and Peter to watch your apartment and Sam and Vis are going to be outside your work all day, Sweets.” “Thank you, Bucky.”

When Steve drops you off he points out the car. "If you see John or you for any other reason feel unsafe you can go to them right away, or call us,” he tucks a strand of hair in behind your ear. “Don’t hesitate. You mean everything to us and we want to keep you safe, Sweets,” You nod. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek before heading to work.

What you told yourself would only be a few days, turns into a few weeks and now it’s almost two months. Despite your initial refusal, you’re enjoying living with them again. A few times after the break-up, John tried to contact you and every time the phone started buzzing and your anxiety spiked you found one of them and they helped you through it.

You haven’t slept in your room once and neither has Steve, it's always the three of you sleeping in Bucky's bed. It could be because Bucky has an expensive bed that you sleep so soundly, but in the back of your head, you know it’s because their presence calms you.

If Bucky or Steve can't drive you to work, someone else does, your own car is still parked on the street by your apartment and you don’t have any desire to go get it. But you do miss some of your clothes, and toiletries, so maybe you should take it as a sign that you need to go back.

After getting home from work that day you walk up to their office, a little apprehensive. Both of them are leaning over the desk when you poke your head in, their cuffs rolled up, exposing their underarms. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, they look too good. Steve sees you first and a smile splits his face. “Hey Sweets, have a good day at work?”

Bucky turns and opens his arms towards you when you step into the room. His hug is warm and comforting and you answer Steve’s question with a yes, before taking a step back from them. "I know I said I was only going to stay a few days but it's been way more than that now, so I think I'll go back to my place after work tomorrow." You try to sound as neutral as possible, neither sad nor happy, just stating a fact.

"No," Bucky breathes, fists tightening at his sides. "I agree with Bucky, don't leave," Steve's voice is calm and his face doesn’t give much away but his eyes are betraying him, they’re too glossy, too wide, and too filled with fear to miss.

The other reason you need to go back home is the way they are treating you and touching you. It’s making your feelings run wild and you can't have that, you can’t risk losing them too. And if that wasn't enough they've invaded your dreams with their touches and words, making you wake up aching for them in a way that is totally inappropriate.

"I can't stay, you know that," you sigh. "No, I don't." Bucky is frustrated, staring at you. "I really fucking don't know why you can't stay. We love having you here and you seem to love being here. Just stay."

His mood is making you defensive, you don't want to explain that you're obviously catching feelings soon after getting out of something traumatic. You need to think, and every time you wake up drenched, tucked in between them you are seconds away from ruining everything by confessing or honestly just taking one of their hands and pushing it in between your legs, hoping they will help you get off.

"I need my own space, Bucky," you cross your arms and glare at him. "You have your own room," he states and takes a step closer. "That I don't use anyway," you reply and take a step back. "Because you don't want to!" His raised voice silences you not because you're scared but because he's right. Bucky isn’t stupid and he's not the type to sugarcoat things when he's upset.

Your heart is hammering. "No I don't want to," you confess with a breath. "But I need to." Then you turn to go but only get a step from the desk before Steve grabs your wrist. He spins you into his chest, Bucky coming up behind you, boxing you in between them. Bucky's head falls on your shoulder. "I can't let you go again, Sweets, I can't do it."

Your mind flashes back to the morning when you pretended to sleep and heard them talking. The breath in your chest hitches as you look up into Steve's blue-green eyes. “I’m with him, Sweets,” he says in a low voice and cups your cheek with his large hand. “You belong here, with us.”

Your mouth opens and you try to protest but it dies on your tongue and Steve takes the opportunity to continue. "We love you, more than anything, we want you to be ours, more than just our best friend. Live with us, be with us in every sense of the word. All three of us, together," his voice wavers at the end.

The words sink in slowly. Be with them. Be theirs. Stay. Your body is aching to say yes and your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest. “But…” “All I know is that I feel incomplete without you, like a part of my soul is somewhere else, and the only time I'm at peace is when I'm with you two. I can't keep living like a part of me is missing. So I'm asking you, please stay, please help us figure this out and be with us." Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist. "Every time I see you with someone else my heart gets ripped out of my chest and I've tried to be with other people, we both have, but in the end, they’re not you."

Their confessions break down your defenses as their words ring true. In all your relationships over the years, there's always been something missing but you've never been able to figure out what. There's been passion and there's been love but it's always lacking something and now you think you get it. It has lacked them and the deep connection you share through years and years of friendship. Feeling stupid about wanting to leave and thinking you weren’t ready to be with them makes tears well in your eyes. Whatever it is you three can figure it out, it may not be traditional but it beats being unhappy.

"Don't cry, Sweets." Steve runs his thumb over your cheek. You lean your head into his chest, nodding against it. "I'll stay," you sniffle. The arms around your waist tighten and Bucky speaks into your shoulder. "Really Sweets?" he sounds like he’s worried that maybe you're joking.

"Really Bucky," you promise, wrapping your arms around Steve and hugging him close. For a moment it’s just the three of you enveloped in your shared love but then Bucky rights himself and you look up at him over your shoulder, matching his silly smile.

He leans in like he is about to kiss you but he stops himself, his eyes searching yours for something, and it's scary. If you take the plunge everything will change, or maybe it won't, but it feels like an earthquake is rolling through your life, upsetting everything and if you let him kiss you it will be real. But that's what you want.

"Please?" you ask him and his whole face lights up before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. It could be described as fireworks, an erupting volcano, or maybe feeling the first rays of sunlight on your skin after years in darkness, but nothing will come close to the feeling of being kissed by Bucky.

It's a chaste kiss with just his lips moving carefully against yours. It's over quicker than you want but in his place is Steve, turning your head back towards him and descending on you. His fingers run through your hair and he opens your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, the feeling once again indescribable, it's just the feeling of right. Everything about it feels right.

Even if the kiss is slow when he pulls back your breathing is labored and you're clutching his shirt. "I-" you begin but can’t find any words. That kiss ignited something inside you, it's like you're seeing color for the first time, everything is clearer and sharper. What even was your life before?

"Are doing okay Sweets?" Bucky asks next to your ear and you nod in response. When his soft lips caress the side of your neck you whimper and lean your head to give him better access, he chuckles against your skin, nipping it and making you gasp. "I wanna eat you up, find out what you taste like everywhere."

It’s a badly kept secret that Bucky has a marking kink. You’ve seen his exes, you know he's possessive and likes to leave marks. You can't wait to have them on you so you whisper, "Mark me.”

Steve chuckles above you. "She knows you, Bucky," he says with a smile. "You too, Steve, please?" You’re almost begging, but not quite, just asking nicely. "You want me to give you a hickey?" he asks with a crooked smile but those eyes are too easy to read. He craves you. "Or a bruise, or a bite mark, something, anything," "Fuck…" His face changes to match his dark eyes. "You want everyone to know you belong to us, Sweets?" he asks with a hoarse voice and you feel the large bulge in his pants press against your stomach.

You nod, biting your lip. "Show me how you do it, Bucky.” They spin you around and Bucky grabs at the collar of your blouse, pulling harshly, sending the buttons flying over the office. “Hey-” you begin but he pulls the fabric aside exposing the juncture between your shoulder and neck. First, he sinks his teeth in, hard enough for you to hiss but not breaking the skin, then he closes his lips and sucks.

It's painful but the act in itself makes you throb. When he pulls back you release your breath but Steve is quick to pull the neckline on the other side and do the exact same thing. He is gentler but when he's done there is still a purple bruise on your skin. "Fuck me," you whimper against Bucky.

"Yes, Sweets, we will. Long and hard until you can't take it anymore. We're going to ruin you." Steve promises before he grabs you and lifts you up, spinning you so you can wrap your legs around him as he starts walking to the bedroom, Bucky right behind you. You reach your hand out towards him and he grabs it, kissing your palm and knuckles. "We're going to take care of you Sweets, you'll never want for anything," he promises with a wicked smirk.

Steve places you on the edge of the bed and stands up, looking down at you. Bucky comes up beside him, resting his forearm on Steve's shoulder. "Look at our sweets, can you believe it?" Bucky asks. Steve turns to him with a smile. "Yes." Then he places two fingers under Bucky's chin, turning his head before kissing him. It's heated, filthy and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. You squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure you're feeling in your cunt. Their kiss shows that it's nothing new, they've obviously done it before and you're a little mad that they have withheld this from you.

When Steve starts pulling on Bucky's clothes you can't keep the moan from slipping out. They both break away and turn to you and you feel small in the best way possible. "Did you like that?" Bucky asks before leaning down and kissing you.

The knowledge that his tongue was just in Steve's mouth and is now sliding against yours makes you moan again. You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulls on your top. When you separate, he pulls it off and you’re left in just your bralette. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat at the sight and starts taking off his own clothes.

Bucky kneels in front of you on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, while you stare at Steve as more and more skin is revealed. He holds your gaze the whole time and you bite your lip when he starts at his pants. His chest and forearms are huge, covered in tattoos but in no way hiding the muscle underneath. It makes your mouth water and your cunt clench.

Bucky starts kissing up your bare leg, beginning at your ankles and slowly working his way up your calve and the inside of your thigh. When you're still staring at Steve he nips your skin. "I know he's gorgeous but when I eat your pussy I want your eyes on me, Sweets." He tries to look offended but his pupils are blown wide with lust.

Just the thought of him between your legs makes a shiver run through you and your cunt impossibly wetter. Nodding at him you caress the side of his face and watch him, the closer he gets, the more you start to tremble with need. No one had ever made you feel so needy and horny.

Bucky kisses your cunt through your underwear, making you gasp. "Please Bucky, I need you." "I know, I can smell how fucking wet you are Sweets." He twists your panties out of the way. "Fuck, Steve, look at her, she's dripping."

Steve, in just his underwear now, slides his fingers gently through the mess, making you tremble and moan, before bringing the fingers to his mouth and holding your gaze as he licks them clean. Then Bucky's mouth is on you, his tongue licking from your core up to your clit.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-" you cry and grab the sheets under you, bucking up into his touch. Steve chuckles and gets behind you on the bed. "He looks like he's in heaven, Sweets. He has wanted you for so long." You feel his fingers undo the clasp of your bra and then slide it off. His hands cup your tits a second later, making more sounds spill out of your mouth. His fingers rub, caress, and pull on your nipples while Bucky is hurdling you toward your climax.

"I'm- I'm gonna-" Your legs shake and you grab Steve's arm with one hand, the other going to Bucky's head, grabbing his short hair. Every muscle in your body tenses right before the coil snaps, making you scream out your release, riding Bucky's face and feeling the pleasure-filled waves travel through your body.

You slump against Steve's and he holds you. Bucky pulls back with a shit-eating grin, wiping his face with the back of his hand, saying "Fuck Sweets," before he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.

You already feel amazing, high off your orgasm but you want more and Steve's hard-on is pressing into your back. You turn around on the bed. "Move up," you tell him and his smirk is knowing but he does as you say and moves to sit against the headboard.

You rid yourself of your drenched panties before grabbing his boxers and pulling them off. "Eager Sweets?" he chuckles and fists his cock as soon as it's free. It's thick and long as him and you can't fucking wait. You bite your lip before asking "Condom?"

"I know we should but I want to feel you raw Sweets,” he confesses. “Are you on birth control?" "Sure, and I got tested the week after…" you trail off not wanting the bad memories to ruin the moment. Bucky's heat is suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head back to kiss you deeply. When he lets go he says, "Steve and I got tested like a week before you moved in and I've not even looked another person's way since then." Steve laughs "And I haven't fucked anyone either so get over here and ride my cock Sweets."

To say you scramble is an accurate description, quickly shuffling over to him and straddling his hips. You hold onto his shoulders as he swipes the head of his cock through your mess, holding it still for you to sink down on.

All three of you moan in unison as his dick disappears into your tight hot channel. The grip Steve has on your hips is almost bruising and the look on his face is painful. “F-fuck. Sweets. Damn.” Is all he gets out. You lean in, kissing his cheeks and chin and lips, and start to move, slowly, the feeling is amazing, he's filling you up to the brim perfectly.

"Feels so good," you stutter and then drop down hard. "I'm never watching porn again," Bucky says from behind you and you watch him over your shoulder, kneeling on the bed and jerking his cock. You whine in the back of your throat, you want him too, so you reach for him as you bounce on Steve's cock, making him spill the most delicious sounds.

Bucky shuffles over and you grab his dick in your hand, he's big enough that it doesn't fit all the way around. His hand lands on Steve's shoulder to steady himself and Steve reaches out to place a hand on his hip.

The sounds the three of you make fill the room. It's moans, groans, and whimpers, the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness. Your clit is steadily rubbing against Steve, getting you closer and closer. Bucky is panting heavily, Steve is too.

"Sweets, I can feel you. Are you gonna come on my cock?" Steve is trying to sound unaffected and failing miserably, but he continues to spill filth that rushes you toward the edge. "When I've filled you up, Bucky is gonna fuck my cum right back into you, aren't you Buck?" "Fuck yes," he groans before leaning in and kissing you deeply. “I wanna see you come on his cock Sweets.”

"Next time I wanna feel both of you come in me at the same time," you whimper. "Sweets, you goddamn slut." Steve groans with a laugh and bucks up into you harder. "Tell us more! Please! I want to hear every filthy little thought hidden inside that mind."

You turn to look at Bucky. "I want both of you in every hole. I want you to use me like I'm a toy and worship me like a queen," you tell him, then turn to Steve. "Put my name on the house and celebrate it by fucking in every room, on every surface, show me all of your kinks, give me everything."

Steve's eyes are screwed shut and he's let go of Bucky to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his big cock. "Keep going," you urge him, your release just a few thrusts away. But he's too close and before you can get there he suddenly sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest, thrusting up hard, and comes with a loud moan of your name.

You feel wild, right on the edge of ecstasy but left dangling in mid-air. With pleading eyes and a whine you look at Bucky who smirks at you before pulling you away from Steve and laying you on your back. A second later he fills you up, the sound of his cock pushing through Steve's mess is as sweet as it's nasty.

"Please, Bucky, please," you beg. "Yeah I know, don't worry, not gonna blow my load early," he taunts over his shoulder at Steve who just gives him the finger. "Understand him though, you’re so tight and warm Sweets. Makes me a bit crazy. I just want to fill you up over and over again," he confesses.

"I need to-" you begin but he cuts you off. "Rub your clit for me. Come on my cock," he demands but you know something that is even better than your own fingers and you reach out your arm.

"Steve," you plead and he crawls over to you and lays down beside you, pushing his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit. You arch off the bed with his touch, hands clutching Bucky's arms as he rams into you. The dual sensation is amazing and with how close you were seconds ago the end approaches quickly. Your moans get louder the closer you get and both Bucky and Steve praise you the whole way through.

"You sound so fucking pretty."

"I can barely move you gripping me so tight."

"You're so good at taking cock, Sweets. First mine and now Bucky's, it's like you were made for us."

You nod at the last thing and the pressure in your body is breaking, making your muscles convulse, almost pushing Bucky out with how hard you're coming, screaming their names as you do.

"Fuck! Yes, Sweets!" Bucky’s laugh is a little manic as he works you through it. "I'm going to fill our sweet little cunt with more cum." His hips stutter against you before he groans out your name and collapses on top of you. You run your fingers over his sweaty back and kiss his cheek. Then you turn to Steve, smiling at him beside you. "He's heavy," you complain.

Both of them laugh and Bucky rolls off before they move until you're squeezed in between them, their cum running down your legs, making a mess on the bed. Fortunately, you have at least two other beds to sleep in.

For a few months, you're walking on air. In a throuple with your two best friends, amazing sex, luxury beyond what you could have ever imagined. They constantly spoil you and they've tried to convince you to quit your job since you don't need to work when you're with them.

Tonight you're in another fancy restaurant. Bucky is trying to feed you chocolate cake because it's romantic but you tell him over and over again that you can eat by yourself. Suddenly Steve stiffens beside you and since he isn't known to have tells, you immediately get worried and follow his gaze.

John is standing at the door with a pretty girl on his arm, talking to the waiter and then being shown to a table. Next to yours.

When your eyes meet he stops for a second and his date shoots confused looks between the two of you, before you nod and he nods back, then moves again and sits down.

Steve asks for the check and you're out of your seat and outside the restaurant in no time. Bucky holds your coat as you put it on and a moment later Steve comes out too. His eyes are black with hate and when you're finally in the car you realize that you can't live like this.

"I think-" you begin, swallowing then clearing your throat, "I think I'm going to need those lawyers."

4K notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 8 months ago

Text

home ties | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem bff!reader

got a home race curse? that's no match for the power of friendship

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 31,498 others

tagged: yourbestfriend

yourusername: today i start my pilgrimage across europe - i.e. i'm a 20 something who is inter railing to try and 'find herself' BUT i shall be stopping at any church i can find, bestie @charles_leclerc we're getting that home win this season

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user1: INTER RAILING? BUT BUT BUT WHAT ABOUT CHARLES?

user2: this better be a SHORT trip because i need her in the ferrari garage this season

charles_leclerc: don't have too much fun without me :(

yourusername: iMPOSSIBLE

charles_leclerc: good i hope you miss me everyday

yourusername: like a wife waiting for her husband to come home from the war

charles_leclerc: why am i not the wife?

yourusername: i mean you're the one going here, there and everywhere

charles_leclerc: but i'm the pretty one?

yourusername: die ❤️

charles_leclerc: do you or do you not have a picture of me in your locket?

yourusername: do you or do you not want me to lay offerings for wins this season?

charles_leclerc: noted.

user3: these fools are so dear to me

user4: i know we need positive male and female friendship representation but like god i need them to fall in love

pierregasly: so fuck me then?

yourusername: is your name charles leclerc?

pierregasly: i have known you just as long as charles

yourusername: so has max and este you don't see them bitching up a storm in this comment section

maxverstappen1: i mean i just about to but ummmmmm have fun travelling!

estebanocon: i am very secure in our friendship.... some people not so much

pierregasly: i will spit in your coffee

estebanocon: it's already on the top shelf, good luck goblin!

yourusername: okay............ but thanks max!

user5: i love how most of this grid grew up together - not because it's cute but because they're all rude to each other

user6: they'll cry over each other's wins but won't follow each other on instagram

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,207,683 others

charles_leclerc: an okay start to the season. get well soon carlos!

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user8: @yourusername i know you're on your travels but you really need to get your ass back in the garage

charles_leclerc: trying real hard not to blame her rn

yourusername: skill issue

charles_leclerc: HOW DARE YOU

yourusername: if you need me to perform, then babe that's on you

charles_leclerc: is it really a crime to want my best friend with me at races

yourusername: did you not include my letters to you in your very instagram dump

charles_leclerc: but those are just letters :(

yourusername: just letters? i see. i guess i won't send any more

charles_leclerc: NO I'M SORRY PLEASE KEEP SENDING THEM

user9: i'm so sorry but this is too cute to not be romantic

user10: i know platonic soulmates exist but damn they're making it real hard to not believe they're in love

user11: they're either in love or charles is a puppy with severe separation anxiety

pierregasly: have you considered that he could be both

user12: HUH?

yourusername: regardless .... i'm proud of you doofus

charles_leclerc: thank you pookie

carlossainz55: do i not get a get well soon? anything?

yourusername: i'm glad you didn't die?

carlossainz55: i guess i'll take it

user13: y/n is unapologetically a hater

yourusername: no i'm just a charles stan first and foremost

user14: as you should

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 39,412 others

tagged: yourbestie

yourusername: yeah i'm here in the middle of a random forest eating hard pasta but charles was back on the podium so more candles and offerings coming your way

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yourbestie: do we have to stop in every church?

yourusername: YES

user15: i need someone as passionate about me in my life

yourusername: i am COmMITTED TO THE CAUSE

yourbestie: too committed i'm tired

yourusername: sit back and enjoy the stain glass windows let me do the work

user16: i feel like i'm having charlesxy/n withdrawals already

charles_leclerc: me too

user17: instagram live? twich? TWITTER SPACES? i'll do anything

yourusername: babe i'm in the middle of the forest

charles_leclerc: i thought you'd make it work for me but i see how it is

yourusername: stop i will cry and run home

yourbestie: ?

charles_leclerc: i'm sorry, enjoy your travels i just miss you

yourusername: i miss you too :(

yourbestie: gross

maxverstappen1: so like how do we go about getting you light candles for us?

pierregasly: good luck bro

yourusername: first of all, ew. second of all, no. third of all, YOU DON'T NEED THE HELP

maxverstappen1: okay damn tough crowd

charles_leclerc: you've not got the leclerc charm buddy

maxverstappen1: i've seen the 2012 haircut clearly charm was needed

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 1,409,562 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: look who's backkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

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user20: phew i thought he was gonna die from separation anxiety for a second there

maxverstappen1: he's just dramatic

yourusername: so you don't want the souvenir i got you

maxverstappen1: I DO I DO I DO

yourusername: you know what you have to do

maxverstappen1: ugh. i'm sorry charles, your weird need to be with y/n at all times is kind of cute (if you weren't 26 years old already)

user21: the fact he's so pumped for her to be back - fave duo ever

user22: not to be that one freak but the last picture is looking very girlfriend to me

user23: you make a good point but i don't wanna get my hopes up just yet

user24: was his separation anxiety not enough? i feel like there's no way he could be in another relationship when he wants to be with her so often

yourusername: i'm glad to be back - the wilderness was lovely but nothing compares to you

charles_leclerc: teehee

yourusername: and i get to be reunited with my favourite gal pascale and light votives together

charles_leclerc: my lucky charms for real

pierregasly: i mean only one person has been there for each of your wins in f1 just saying

yourusername: so i'm sorry pierre i'm SORRY THAT MY APPENDIX NEEDED TO COME OUT

yourusername: but i do believe it contributed to the win

charles_leclerc: it did cause i raced so fast so i could get to your side quicker

yourusername: awwww a real gentleman (take notes pierre)

user25: how can they not be in love ^^^ LOOK AT THE MATERIAL PEOPLE

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 59,304 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: this is the set up for monaco week

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user28: babe is taking up residency in saint devote that's crazy

user29: idk what she's doing but the moon was red ... is she really going to manifest the home win

yourusername: if i can, yes! but if he does win it's all charlie and his talent

user30: ugh you guys are so cute

charles_leclerc: having you back and racing in monaco? best week ever

yourusername: it will be

pierregasly: once again no good lucks for us

maxverstappen1: i'm really starting to think our childhood meant nothing to you

yourusername: booooo the home town hero is obviously the one i'm supporting

maxverstappen1: you told me to "choke on your cock" when i asked if you would watch from my garage in zandvoort

yourusername: welllllllllll

pierregasly: just admit you have a favourite

yourusername; fine, charlie is my favourite

charles_leclerc: :)))))

pierregasly: :((((

yourusername: you asked me to???

user31: i don't know who will be happier if charles wins monaco charles or y/n?

charles_leclerc: i know who would cry more

yourusername: i'm a big crier and proud

alexalbon: not you guys coming for my albon_pets brand

yourusername: don't pit the kids against each other

charles_leclerc: let us be dog parents in peace alex

user32: so like that's their dog.... they're together?

user33: they're so confusing

user34: i mean it's so obvious they're in love so a dog really isn't that crazy

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, joris_trouche and 3,874,099 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: monaco finally loves me back (and so does she)

view all comments

user35: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

user36: i am NOT okay

yourusername: so unbelievably proud of you charlie, you deserve this more than anyone and you've made everyone proud ❤️ 🤍

charles_leclerc: thank you my love xx you've always believed in me and i'm so glad i could share this moment with you

yourusername: you're the love of my life and i would do anything for you

charles_leclerc: you already have <3

yourusername: i would light every votive i can find again if it brings you joy like this again

charles_leclerc: you bring me all of my joy

user37: they're so cute your honour

user38: lowkey forgot that they confirmed their relationship because the win was simply hitting too hard

user39: it's hitting like crack and it will be the only thing i talk about for the rest of my life

pierregasly: congratulations calmar!! i knew you could do it and i'm very happy for you both xx

charles_leclerc: thanks brother, you next

yourusername: we love you pear !!

maxverstappen1: I KNEW IT

charles_leclerc: that i would win my home race?

maxverstappen1: yeah, yeah... congrats but I KNEW YOU FOOLS WERE IN LOVE

yourusername: yeah you and about a million other people, we weren't that secretive

maxverstappen1: let me have this one thing

user40: yeah this is the worst kept secret in the world

yourusername: sorry guys but have you seen my boyf, there's no way i wouldn't be showing that off

charles_leclerc: HAVE YOU SEEN MY GIRLFRIEND???

yourusername: awwwww i love you

charles_leclerc: and i love you too

fin.

note: here's a small one to celebrate charles finally winning his home race, i won't lie i did cry. idk it's when he brought up his dad it just started the waterworks but i'm so proud of my lil millionaire racer guy :)))

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic

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obscure-imagines · 1 year ago

Text

wet dreams - Zoro

🍃staring. Zoro Roronoa x afab!Reader

⚔️ preview. The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, wet dreams, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, praise, exhibitionism (sex outside in the Crowsnest), cum play/swallowing, fingering, mutual masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick zoro, fingering, overstim, mutual orgasm, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.

🔫 rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I wc. 3.7k

⚔️ aus. One Piece Live Action, pwp, acquaintances to lovers, etc…

🍀 mlist + an. I showed Sanji and Mihawk some love so I figured I might as well adore my big three and make it a full set with Zoro.

Zoro is exhausted. His body feels heavy as he lumbers around the ship, his footfalls a little too loud on the wooden deck. His eyes are practically shutting on their own, but he resists the need to nap.

He's been having problems lately... when he sleeps.

While he's able to keep himself mostly in check around you during his waking hours, his mind - and body - have been betraying him in dreamland.

He's woken up five nights this week with the soft sounds of your moans etched into his memory and his pants ruined with the sticky truth about his feelings for you.

Naps had once been a time of rest, but Zoro has been anything but restful since Luffy convinced you to join the crew two weeks ago.

Zoro hates feeling like he's not in control. He hates the way you seem so real in his mind's eye, only for him to wake up and watch you acting completely indifferently toward him- as if he didn't just watch you go down on his cock in explicit detail- as if he didn't just try to fuck you so hard you couldn't even walk-

Being around you is something like torture. His tongue gets tied, his heart races, and he's unable to hold a conversation with you about anything unrelated to piracy... and even then, he stumbles over his words and gets frustrated with himself.

You're just too beautiful.

The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.

He does his best to be the last to go to bed, out of fear that someone will walk in while he's sleeping and hear his problem, hell, he wouldn't be shocked if they could even see it.

It's not even midday and Zoro feels like death. It doesn't help that it's hot out. The wind feels practically nonexistent. Everything is stale, sweaty, and full of tension. Even Sanji, who usually dresses in formalwear, has stripped himself of his button-up, opting for an undershirt instead.

Then there's you. Your shorts don't leave much to the imagination, and Zoro has to tear his gaze off of you every time you get within his line of sight. His cock is practically throbbing in his pants anytime you're nearby- anytime your soft scent lingers in the air when you walk past.

"You look like shit."

Zoro sighs at Sanji's words, refusing to look at the chef who's come to lean on the rail next to him, staring out at the sea.

"I mean it. And I'm not trying to be a dick, but seriously moss head, you look like you need some rest," Sanji presses on. "When was the last time you had one of your famous Roronoa naps?"

"I wasn't aware they were famous," Zoro sighs, this conversation is making him even more tired.

"We all know you get a little scratchy without your beauty sleep," Sanji smirks. "Go on, get some rest. It's a shit day, and it will be even more shit if you're in a bad mood. I'll wake you up for dinner."

Usually, Zoro wouldn't do anything Sanji suggests, he wouldn't even entertain it- but the idea of a nap is having a visceral effect on him. He's reminded of the exhaustion that's overtaken him, and the harsh sun is only making things worse.

Zoro lets out a deep breath. "I guess I could use a little shut-eye."

You let out a loud whimper as Zoro drags his tongue across your neck, holding you close on the deck of the ship. Above, the stars are twinkling, but to the swordsman, all that matters is you. He can hardly see anything else, his mind completely blank except for the feeling of your hand stroking his cock.

"I need more," you tell him, applying just the right amount of pressure.

He's tried dissuading you from sucking his cock, but you're absolutely insatiable for him. Stroking isn't enough, and the promise of filling you up all nice and snug doesn't satisfy you either- no, you want him in your mouth, and you're very verbal about it.

Who is Zoro to deny you?

With a sigh, he agrees, and you sink to your knees immediately.

God, you look beautiful like this.

Your thumb strokes the head of his cock, rubbing through precum as you bring your mouth closer.

You're always a bit of a tease, licking at him gently, pumping his shaft. Zoro can't help but release a small groan, eyes fixed on you, waiting.

When you finally take him into your mouth, Zoro moans, his head lolling back as he enjoys the feeling.

"That's it, angel," he tells you, reaching down to grab at your head, helping you find a rhythm. "Just like that."

You take him so deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat much too easily. The feeling of you choking around him has Zoro's abdomen clenching, and a familiar sensation is growing in his balls-

It's as if you can read his mind, your hand snaking up to massage his most sensitive area while you continue practically gagging yourself on his cock.

The sound is absolutely obscene, and Zoro's never heard anything so pretty.

"If you keep sucking like that, I'm going to cum," he warns you, wanting to hold out to finish in your perfect, needy little cunt-

The way you suck on him even harder makes Zoro think you want him to cum. You want him to release down your throat, want to swallow him up like the good girl you are.

Again, who is Zoro to deny you?

"Fuck, angel," he groans, orgasm rising even faster. "You're always so good for me."

You whimper loudly around his cock, stroking your tongue along the vein that runs the underside of his length while squeezing his balls, and that's all it takes for him to cum.

He lets out a grunt as he shoots his load down your awaiting throat, his brows knitted together in concentration and something close to overstimulation. He whispers your name, over and over like a mantra while you suck him dry, eager for every single drop he can give- you're his greedy little angel, and he loves you with every fiber of his being.

You pull off of him when he's done, staring up at him with eyes that reflect the stars above. Then, you stick out your tongue, proving to him that you'd swallowed all he had to give.

Zoro can't help but reach for you, lifting you back onto your feet so he can grab your face and press his lips against yours eagerly.

He treasures the moments you're in his arms, and there's something so satisfying about the salty taste on your tongue-

"Dinner!"

Zoro sits up so fast he nearly falls out of his hammock. His heart is thundering in his chest, and when his eyes quickly dart to the door, he sees that Sanji hadn't bothered to enter, only called out a word of warning.

Swallowing thickly, Zoro looks down at his pants. He can feel his cum, hot and sticky against his skin, his half-chubbed length angrily confined by pants.

Zoro's not sure who's more upset about being woken up from his dream, himself, or his cock.

Luffy has already gone through half the food by the time Zoro saunters into the dining area. The swordsman's eyes are downcast while he takes a seat next to the captain, and you're kind of glad for that- you want to watch him, but you doubt you'd be able to make eye contact with him right now.

Your skin tingles with the forbidden knowledge that you now have. Your mind keeps replaying the scene you'd walked in on not half an hour ago; Zoro, asleep, his brows knitted together, your name on his lips.

You hadn't stayed long upon finding him in that state, your skin too hot with the realization of what you'd just witnessed, and now, that fevered sensation returns.

You've always had a bit of a crush on Zoro, but you'd never in your wildest dreams imagined that it could be returned. Out of everyone on the ship, Zoro interacts with you the least. He practically avoids you, and you've just spent two weeks thinking he doesn't even like you-

No, this changes everything.

The man with green hair lifts his gaze, and your eyes meet momentarily, only for you to look away, skin flaring again. Your heart is practically beating out of your ribcage, and you can feel your panties sticking uncomfortably to your core.

You'll have to do something about this. You're not sure what- but... you definitely can't go much longer with this kind of unresolved tension. One dinner with a dripping pussy is enough.

You decide you'll have to confront Zoro, and something tells you that you'll thank God for doing so.

Once everyone is asleep, you slowly tiptoe out of the sleeping quarters. Zoro has been staying up late, keeping watch in the Crowsnest, and you feel like that's a perfect place to talk with him. There's no way he can escape... unless he jumps into the ocean and risks his life- but you don't think it will come to that... or at least, you hope it doesn't.

Carefully climbing the ladder, you think of all the things you can say to him. You're not sure where to even begin, and as you make it to the top, poking your head through the manhole to stare at Zoro's broad shoulders, all the words you'd planned slip your mind.

He hasn't noticed you yet, and it takes closing the ladder cover for him to finally hear you, whipping around with his hand reaching for one of his blades.

Zoro freezes. You both do.

Then his hand drops to his side. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought..." you bite at your lip, "I thought you might want some company."

He gives you a quick once over, then turns to look out at the sea again. "I'm good."

"Why do you act like you hate me so much?" you sigh, ignoring his dismissal and moving to join him.

"I don't act like I hate you."

"You hardly talk to me."

"I'm not a big talker."

You let out another exasperated sigh. There's some truth in what he's just said. "Then I'll talk."

"Go ahead."

Staring out at the sea, you're once again at a loss for what to say. After a few moments of silence, you decide to just... put it all on the table. "I walked in while you were napping earlier."

Zoro goes rigid next to you.

"What were you dreaming about?"

He's quiet, then he turns to look at you. "Sword fighting."

"I didn't think you'd actually lie to me," you frown.

"Who says I'm lying?"

"I just- I don't think sword fighting would lead to you moaning my name over and over."

Zoro looks out at the sea again. "You must think I'm some kind of pervert."

"Trust me, I don't," you assure him. "I'm kind of curious about what we were doing in your dream."

He sneaks a glance at you, and there's a hint of a smile that curls onto his pretty lips. "Yeah?"

You nod. "Maybe... maybe I've been having 'sword fighting' dreams too. We could... compare notes, or something."

Zoro lets out a laugh, shaking his head. The chuckle dies down into a groan. "Fuck." He grips the railing tighter, taking a deep breath. "You really wanna know what we were doing in my dream?"

"Yes, please."

The swordsman turns to face you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You were down on your knees, sucking the fucking soul out of my cock."

If your panties hadn't been ruined at dinner, they're definitely ruined now. "I was?"

"Uh huh. You were begging for it. Begging for every last drop."

Your mouth practically waters at the idea. "And did you give it to me?"

"Of course I did," he says softly, scanning your face. "How could I not?"

"Should we..." Your skin heats at the words about to come out of your mouth, "Can we make that dream real?"

Zoro sucks in a shaky breath. "I think I have a better idea."

"A better idea than me sucking your cock?" You're shocked.

"You're always so good to me in my dreams, maybe I want to be good to you."

Your pussy throbs at the insinuation of what he's saying. Most men would jump at the chance to have your mouth around them, but it looks like tonight, the swordsman wants to be the one pleasuring you-

He's just like the Zoro from your wet dreams, and you have a suspicion that when it gets down to it, he'll be even better.

You can't help yourself any longer, you practically launch your body at him, throwing your arms around his strong shoulders while his hands catch you. Your lips meet as if it's the most natural thing in the world, a soft groan escaping him when you swipe your tongue across his mouth, already eager for entrance.

The kiss deepens, and his hands grip you tighter, pulling you flush to his chest. It feels absolutely insane to be actually doing this in your waking hours- nothing your mind could conjure up compares to the real Zoro-

You can feel his cock already pressing against your hip and it makes you whine loudly, shoving your hand between your bodies to cup him through his pants. He's as big as you imagined he would be, and your pussy flutters with interest.

"Zoro-" you whimper, already needing more.

You've been waiting too long for this, for him-

He groans. "Say that again."

One of his hands joins yours between your bodies, but his slips under the waistband of your shorts, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties.

"Fuck, angel, you're already soaked-"

"Zoro!" you moan, louder this time.

"Tell me you want my fingers."

"God, I need them," you gasp when he leans in, pressing kisses and tracing his tongue along your throat. "I need you inside of me- any of you, I just- I need you!"

"Good girl," he says smoothly, pushing your panties to the side.

His fingers make contact with your dripping cunt, and he teases your pussy lips, just dipping inside enough to coat his skin before he circles your clit.

You cry out, squeezing his cock harder-

"Enough of that," Zoro practically slaps your hand away from him. "Tonight is about you. Let it be about you."

"Fuck, you're too nice to me-"

"Trust me, you deserve it." His fingers sink into your pussy and you moan loudly, leaning forward to begin peppering his own throat in kisses. You thread your fingers through his hair, keeping him close as he begins pumping his digits in and out of your wet core.

You can already hear yourself- the sick squelching of your pussy as he works you open. His palm rubs against your clit, creating a delightful pressure that has your legs shaking and your toes curling.

"You sound so pretty."

Who knew he'd be such a sweet talker.

In the exhibitionistic privacy of the Crowsnest, with the crew sleeping soundly below, Zoro is showing you his true colors, and you couldn't be happier.

No one has touched you like this in too long- but then again, has anyone ever actually touched you like this?

You can't believe how close you already are to cumming. Your skin tingles and you moan louder against his neck, moving your mouth up to suckle on his earlobe.

Zoro groans, and the sound goes straight to your aching core.

"Close already?"

All you can manage is a nod, your eyes closing as you focus on the pleasure of his fingers pumping into your wet hole. "Please-"

"You can cum for me," he tells you. "I wanna hear it."

You can hardly even stand on your own. If it weren't for his strong form, steady under your grip, you're sure you'd be falling. His free palm is on the small of your back, keeping you snug to his front while his fingers work you closer and closer-

"Zoro," you whimper again, feeling tears in your eyes from how tight the coil in your stomach has grown.

"Be a good girl and let go for me. Come on, I know you can do it."

You let out a strangled half sob as your high slams into you. Your entire body tingles with electric energy as your core clamps onto his fingers, which continue inside of you, working you through your orgasm. You shake against him, digging your nails into his shoulders while you whimper and moan, lips pressed to his throat.

"That's it," he praises you, a steady guide through one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

You nearly black out, only for his fingers to slow inside of you, drawing you back into your body. Zoro removes his hand from your pants, and you listen to him suck his digits clean, letting out a small groan at your taste.

"Can I lay you down?" he asks next, tone gentle.

You nod, unable to speak. Zoro softly helps you onto the wooden floor of the small Crowsnest, staring at you with dark eyes that seem to sparkle in the moonlight.

He slowly undresses you, watching as you lift your hips to help him remove your shorts. Your shirt and bra are next, and he's careful to set them nearby before removing his own clothing.

"You still want to do this?" he asks.

"There's nothing I want more."

Once he's naked, Zoro gets between your thighs, holding himself over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. You grab at his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

His hard cock is too enticing for you not to touch, and soon, you're gripping it while your tongues battle. His moans are music to your ears, and you swipe your thumb over the head of his length to smear his skin with precum.

"You know-" he swallows thickly. "After today, after watching you cum on my fingers, I might not last that long."

"That's okay, I won't last long either." Your pussy is already aching for him again, and from the way his cock twitches in your hand, you know he's as into this as you are. "Just fuck me Zoro, please."

He kisses you deeply, allowing you to guide him to your wet hole.

He's big, but you're soaked, and slipping into you is much too easy. He sinks all the way in, his hips flush to yours when he bottoms out. You moan into each other's mouths, and you grab his face, wanting to keep his lips on yours as he begins to thrust into you.

"Fuck, Zoro, it's so good-" you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around him to earn another sound of appreciation.

"Angel, you're fucking perfect," he agrees, pace already quickening.

The sound of skin on skin fills the night air. You open your eyes, looking up at the moon and stars. It feels natural to be with him like this, under the watchful eye of the heavens-

Your nails dig into his shoulders when his hand adjusts your thigh on his hip. He drives deeper into your wet hole, and each thrust has your head spinning.

You can feel him everywhere, and it's the first time you've ever really felt full, complete.

"Zoro," you whisper, gaining his attention as you draw his lips back to your own.

You get lost in him. His cock is filling you perfectly, and his lips feel like they were made to be on your own.

That familiar tightening in your lower abdomen builds much too fast, and each thrust has Zoro grunting and moaning even louder-

"Fuck, angel, I'm close-"

"Me too," you assure him, pressing your forehead to his own and staring into his eyes. "You'll cum with me, right?"

He can only nod as you slip your hand between your bodies, fingers rubbing your sensitive clit-

Your core tightens even more around his thick length and Zoro lets out a deep moan-

"Shit," he mutters, "where should I cum?"

"Inside," you insist. "Cum inside, I'm on birth control, please, I want it, I need it-"

Zoro's hand balls into a fist on the wooden plank by your head, and he groans. "Can't wait-"

"Me neither," you whisper, eyes closing as the feeling ravages your body, "Cumming-"

Zoro buries his face against your throat as you both reach your highs. You can feel him painting your inner walls, making you even more full than you already are with his cock- it's the most delightful feeling.

Your toes curl as he fucks you through it all, his pace even harder than before, if not a bit erratic. The sounds he's making will be something you never forget, and you cling to him like a lifeline, tracing his muscular shoulders and gasping-

It's as if your orgasm lasts ages, and when Zoro's motions finally begin to slow, it's hard to even catch your breath.

He begins to press kisses along your throat again, working his way to your ear, and then your mouth.

You can't help but grin into each soft press of his lips against your own.

"You look happy," he muses.

"That's because I am. Are you happy?"

"Very."

Your smile widens. "So we're done not talking and pretending to be indifferent to each other, right?"

"Completely done."

"Good, because I don't think I could go back to that."

"Me neither," he admits.

"I like you a lot."

Zoro presses another soft kiss to your lips, his pretty eyes twinkling with emotion in a way you've never seen from the swordsman. "I like you too."

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you liked this, check out my fics for Sanji and Mihawk :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here

#zoro roronoa #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa smut #roronoa zoro smut #opla smut #zoro opla #opla zoro #opla #one piece #one piece smut #one piece live action #zoro x reader

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ofstarsandvibranium · 3 months ago

Text

Stitched Together

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so... ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn't seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky's nurse whenever he gets hurt.

A/N: Based off my mini fic here.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You were used to it by now. In the morning, you'd go into work at the hospital. The pediatrics unit was filled with light and color. You made sure to bring as much joy and light into the lives of the children you helped every day. Then when you came home, you'd do work for the darker side of life.

Bucky Barnes was born for this life. Being the first born son of George Barnes, the position of head of the Barnes Family was immediately his.

But growing up he didn't act like that life was for him. You would know since you two knew each other since you were thirteen. You grew up in the same neighborhood. It wasn't until you turned sixteen that you started dating. You knew who his father was, your own dad knew who his family was. As a detective, he told you time and time again that you needed to stay away from him. Being a hormonal and rebellious teenager, you never listened. You should've.

At eighteen years old was when Bucky killed for the first time. Because he was now a man, his father put him up in a cage fight with another man. It was kill or be killed.

He wasn't the same after. He began to push you away, keep things from you, act like a complete asshole.

Then enough was enough. You broke up with him and even though he hurt you, you never told your father the things Bucky told you. Especially after your father became the chief of police.

You two were ignorant with the roles you had to play in your youth, but reality hit you right when you became adults. You became the dutiful daughter of the chief of police, went to university to become a nurse. You stopped keeping track of Bucky's life, but would hear updates along the grapevine every once in a while.

You were there when George Barnes passed. Well, not necessarily in the room, but you were at the hospital when he passed. You were coming up from your break when you saw Bucky at the elevators. He looked upset.

"Bucky?"

He turned at the sound of his name, "Sw-Y/N. Hey."

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh, my dad. He-He had a heart attack. I'm-He-" you could see how distressed he was, so you pulled him in for a hug.

"Whatever happens, you'll be okay," you whispered in his ear.

He fell limp in your arms. You didn't know it then, but Bucky missed you like crazy and being in your arms again that night saved him from spiraling.

It's later that night that George Barnes dies. After everything he's done and been through, a heart attack was what killed him.

Karma, is what your dad said.

Despite the position George Barnes held, he was well-loved around the city due to him caring for the community. The streets were filled during the procession, your dad and his men keeping an eye out in case anything happened. You were also there for the funeral. You caught glimpse of Bucky and you couldn't breathe for a moment. He was clearly tired and you couldn't blame him, considering how things have been going for him lately.

Despite your father warning you to not make contact with him, you felt like you should.

"I'm sorry, again for your loss, Buck."

He gives you a tired smile, "Thank you again for showing up, Y/N. I-I know your dad probably didn't want you to come."

"He doesn't control every aspect of my life."

"Still. I really appreciate you being here."

"Of course. It's always hard when you lose someone you love." You would know since you lost your mother when you were young.

"Bucky," Sam, Bucky's right hand, calls his name and urges him to follow him.

"I gotta-"

"It's okay. Hope things aren't too stressful for you."

"Thank you. I'll see you around," he says as he departs. You didn't know just how soon you'd end up seeing him.

Three days later, to be exact.

It was late at night when there was a knock at your door. You hold your knife close as you peer through the peep hole of your door. Your eyes widen when you immediately pull the door open.

"Holy shit!" you whisper loudly as Sam drags a bleeding Bucky into your home.

"He didn't want to go to the hospital since we don't know whose people might be working there. So he told me to bring him here."

You guide Sam to your couch where Bucky slumps onto it, "Sorry, Y/N. I didn't know who else to trust right now." You turn on all the nights in your apartment and get a look at him. There's a stab wound in his shoulder. It looks like the bleeding slowed though.

You help Bucky out of his jacket and shirt. You apologize profusely for the pain he's going through.

He dryly chuckles, "You know, when I dreamt about you stripping me, I didn't think it'd be in this context."

You pause and look at him, "You dream about me?"

"You haunt my mind, Y/N." He must be delusional due to the blood loss. Before his father's passing, you hadn't seen nor spoke to him in years. There's no way he'd still be thinking about you after all this time, right?

"I'll be back. I need to grab my first aid kit." You rush to your bathroom and grab the small duffle of all your first aid necessities.

You also grab a bottle of vodka and hand it to Bucky, "Drink up, buttercup."

He frowns and looks at the bottle, "Thought you hated vodka."

"It's not my bottle. America left it from a party I held here," you mumble as you pull on some gloves and begin to clean around his wound. You work in silence as Bucky takes swigs from the bottle. Sam watches from the corner of the room, staying out of your way.

While you work, Bucky takes in your apartment. He takes in the pictures, the decor, the trinkets you have around. This is exactly how he'd imagine your place to be.

"Hey, still with me?" you ask as you begin to thread your needle.

"Yup."

"Okay. This might hurt-"

"Probably not as much as getting stabbed."

You can't help but snort a laugh as you get ready to start stitching Bucky's wound. He grins at the sound of your laughter and you see the sliver the Bucky you once knew.

For the most part, Bucky didn't make much of a sound while you worked. He just kept his eyes on you, taking in every furrowed brow, every twitch of your lip. After all these years, you are still just as beautiful as before.

His heart lurches at what's become of you two. You're practically strangers again after spending so many years apart. His own doing really.

Scared of what could happen to you as he fell deeper into the family business. That's why he behaved the way that he did all those years ago. He was protecting you.

Because after all this time, Bucky Barnes still loves you.

"Alright. We're done. How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy," he mumbles as he tries to sit up, but you keep him down.

"Then sleep. You and your bodyguard can stay here for the night."

The man in the corner snorts, "My name's Sam and I am not his bodyguard."

"Sorry, Sam, you and Bucky are free to sleep here for the night." Sam simply nods.

"You don't have to do this. If your dad finds out-"

"He won't. I won't tell him. And you're hurt, Bucky. Doesn't matter what you do or who you are, I can't, in good conscience, let you leave without knowing you'll be okay after this. Just-Just take this as me wanting to observe my patient for the night."

He settles further onto your couch with defeat, "Alright...you know you should've been a doctor."

"Didn't have the time or money to get my doctorate."

"I can help with the money-"

You shake your head, "It's fine, Buck. I'm happy with my job."

"Just..if you need anything, I'm here to help. That's what my dad for the people of this city and that's what I want to continue to do."

"I know. Thanks."

You stand, collecting your things, "I have some spare blankets, pillows, and toiletries. Lemme grab them."

"Okay," he says and watches as you walk to your bedroom.

Sam moves closer, "So that's her."

"Yeah."

"She's nice."

"Yup."

"And beautiful."

Bucky whips his head to Sam, glaring at him, "Watch it."

Sam holds his hands up, "I can appreciate a beautiful face, man. Besides, she's not yours anymore."

"You know how I feel about her."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." Sam says as he plops onto your sofa chair.

You come back with pillows and blankets in arms, "The couch is a pull out, soooo you two will have to share."

"Absolutely not."

"I'm sleeping on the floor."

You snicker, "Okaaay, uh, I have a couch in my room that one of you can take too."

Sam and Bucky look at each other and Sam immediately goes, "I call this bed!" he points to the couch that Bucky's laying on.

Bucky rolls his eyes and you chuckle, "Actually, I think I'd rather have you near me, Bucky, just in case you pull a stitch or start feeling pain again."

"If you're okay with that," he says with a shrug.

"It'll be fine," you respond as you help him sit up and then help him to his feet. He follows you to your bedroom where you show him the couch. You point to the adjoining bathroom, you can take a shower there. I already set out stuff for you and Sam."

"Thanks, Y/N. I really do appreciate it."

"Just doing my civic duty, Buck," you say with a small smile.

He clears his throat, "Yeah. Right. Of course."

"Oh!" you grab a pile of clothes and hold them out, "Here. They're my dad's for some of the nights he stays over."

Bucky can't help but snicker, "If your dad knew-"

"I know," you say with a playful roll of his eyes, "But he's not here and he won't ever know I'm helping you. So go, shower, be careful around your stiches. Call me if you need anything," you turn to set up Bucky's sleeping arrangement, but he grabs you by the wrist.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" you ask when you face him again.

He looks at you with soft blue eyes as he murmurs, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, "Go. Wash all that blood off you."

"Alright," he says and grabs the clothes, going into your bathroom. When the door shuts, you fall onto your bed to give yourself a moment.

A few days ago, you went years without seeing or hearing from Bucky. Now you've seen him twice in less than a week and it's throwing your mind in for a loop.

Hopefully, this will only be a one time thing and you two can go back to being strangers again.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #mob boss au #mafia au #marvel imagine

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starlightkyeom · 2 months ago

Text

as wild and untamable as the sea | l.c

pairing: greek god!chan x reincarnated sea nymph!f!reader genre: angst, romance, smut | reincarnation, fantasy, greek gods!au rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~15.8k warnings: mentions of past unhealthy relationships, (possibly inaccurate) greek mythology, lots of POV switches (but i don't think it's confusing) mentions of eating, explicit smut, multiple sex positions, unprotected sex (just don't), slight edging, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), chan is strong and very in control, i think that's all but let me know if it's not

summary: Chan remembers everything. Every little thing that's happened to him since his days as one of the twelve Olympians. Poseidon to be exact. Even though he tries not to think about it now that he's living in modern times running a sad little aquarium, some memories are more vivid than others. Then, you stumble into his life and he can't explain the draw. You can't seem to figure out how this man is keeping an aquarium like this running when it seems like it's not that busy. Something about him really seems to put you off, despite the fact that he seems drawn to you. None of it makes any sense...until it does.

a/n: this is for the 13 Gods of Olympus collab that @beomcoups & @wooahaeproductions have been tirelessly working on. thank you so much for hosting this! i know this isn't the end for this couple, but i really needed to get this out into the world. if you want to know what happens next with them, let me know.

a/n 2: this is semi-unedited and i'm just throwing it out into the world but i'll come back. if you see anything glaring, no you didn't!

tag list: @illiadiaz, @syluslittlecrows, @yini-yang, @fancypeacepersona, @bitchlessdino, @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @tusswrites, @cookiearmy

Another day, another dollar.

Wasn’t that what the humans said about another day spent working at some mindless job? Despite all the years he’s spent blending into their world, Chan still doesn’t really understand the humans. Doesn’t really understand why they put up with so many things they seemingly hate. Doesn’t really understand why they waste their short lives on something that makes them miserable. But, in fairness to the humans, Chan has also never had to worry about the trivial things that come along with working like money, possessions, or a home. When you’re one of the original gods of Olympus and life is seemingly infinite, money isn’t really an issue.

That’s who Chan was in another lifetime: Poseidon. The God of the Sea, among other things. At least, until Olympus fell. A painful thought that he usually tries to push from his mind.

In the early days after Olympus fell, Chan still went through life acknowledging who he was. He leveraged his powers for favors or for payment. He used his control of the water and everything in it to get him what he needed. But, the years went by and the Olympians became the stuff of myth. Of stories. The kind of characters that you read about in books. Only the most eccentric members of society continue to worship the Olympians as if they’re real. Which they are, Chan reminds himself. Or, they were. As the faith faded, so did the Olympians’ belief in restoring themselves to full power. One by one, they gave up the task of finding a way back until it was only Chan and Zeus left. Two of the brightest minds of Olympus. Even they had to admit their own defeat.

Which leads to the present day. Chan has taken on a new persona, for the…well, he’s lost track of what number this one is. He’s just thankful for his ability to shapeshift into someone new whenever he needs to. Takes a new name every time, too. At first, he tried to keep in touch with his siblings and the other Olympians. That, too, fades over time. It’s been at least a century since he’s spoken to any of them. Though, occasionally, he’ll catch wind of something through the chattering of local sea creatures. Something that says at least some of them are still out there.

Chan sighs. There’s really no reason for him to be wandering down memory lane in this way. He thinks, not for the first time, that maybe he needs to pick a different cover job. One that will keep his mind a little more occupied. The reality is, though, he’s tried nearly everything he could think of over the centuries. Changing professions is a frequent occurrence when he doesn’t want to let his body show too many signs of age. Not that he minds, it’s just that people start to ask too many questions about how he’s handling things someone “his age” shouldn’t be able to handle. In the end, working with sea life has always been the best. And this set up, where he’s running a smaller aquarium off of some long forgotten boardwalk in an area that doesn’t get much traffic, is also great. It isn’t even that Chan doesn’t like being around people. He finds humans entertaining in most senses. It’s just that nothing in this life is permanent for him. He’s not going to fall in love and grow old with someone. Best to just keep things at arm’s length.

Most days are more or less the same and Chan works the majority of them. On the rare days off, he’s not far away since his little house is within walking distance of both the aquarium, the boardwalk it’s on, and the water. He trusts the limited staff that he has because he pays them well. Better than any other similar business, but he values loyalty. And they don’t seem to question how he’s able to make things work. That is largely due to the anonymous donors that make monthly contributions to the aquarium. Really, it’s just Chan funneling money that he’s earned over his many years on Earth so that he can keep a business afloat. Nobody seems to have anything to say. Beyond the staff not asking questions, they are all very good at their jobs. It makes life easier for Chan that way because he doesn’t have to micromanage them. Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do and will only ask questions if they hit an actual block. No, the aquarium runs very smoothly. It just doesn’t get a lot of business.

Since every day kind of blends together, Chan almost never realizes as days or weeks or even months pass by. He’s in a sort of autopilot where he also knows what he has to do and just does it without question. It’s just rinse and repeat day in and day out.

Until it’s not. Until the first day that he notices you in his small, out of the way little aquarium. Until the day that everything starts to change.

You’re not really sure what pulls you in for the first time. You’ve probably passed this sad little aquarium dozens of times without giving it a second thought. Then, one day, you decide that you might as well go in. The cost of admission is incredibly reasonable, but you think that’s probably why you haven’t gone sooner. It might seem counterintuitive. You just wonder how well the animals can be taken care of with such a low cost of admission. You’re not sure if you can handle seeing animals mistreated. Still, there’s no going back now. Even with the outside seemingly a little poorly cared for, you still find your feet pulling you forward.

You’ve never been more wrong about anything in your life.

The dingy outside gives way to a vibrant inside that’s teeming with love and light. The art on the walls is carefully curated to match the different areas of the aquarium. There are workers with genuine smiles going about their days. Even the animals seem to be happy. It’s also deceptively large on the inside. It makes you wonder why it looks so run down from the outside. Surely, someone that cares this much about the animals could care a little more for the outside as well. Maybe that’s the point. Why waste money on an outside nobody really cares about when it can go to the best care possible?

Almost immediately, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. Just this morning, you were ready to explode from all the stress in your life. Now, stress feels like the furthest thing from your mind. In fact, you can’t even remember what you were stressed about. Strange. This is the first time you remember a single place erasing any sort of worry. Just as you’re about to consider that the place holds some kind of magic, you realize that not everyone seems to be as at ease. A mother scolds her child and an elderly couple bicker. It breaks a little bit of the illusion, though you still feel calm.

Subconsciously, your feet carry you to the area with the sea otters. They have always been some of your favorites, even if they’re not the typical sea resident that people think about. As you watch on, two chase each other around the enclosure. They seem like they must be young with the way they can’t seem to stop playing. It’s incredibly endearing to watch. Another, slightly larger, otter emerges from around a bend and the original two quickly dip under the water to shoot off. It almost seems like a mother scolding her children, but maybe you’re creating too many stories within your own mind. Your imagination, especially around sea life, can be a bit active.

A few minutes later, a worker comes out and starts feeding all the otters. They’re quick to come and get the food, showing just how many there are. You weren’t expecting to see such a large population in this off-the-beaten-path aquarium. The man feeding them looks young, but that’s true of nearly everyone that you’ve seen here. They all look young and entirely too pretty. This man is no different. He’s sporting a very blond, shaggy semi-mullet that doesn’t look like it could possibly be his natural hair color. Yet, it looks remarkably believable on him. When you frown at the amount of food he’s giving to the otters, he walks over to the side of the enclosure and leans on the railing close to you. He tosses a bucket of crab legs out into the water and the otters go crazy for that. It seems an odd choice for animals living in captivity, but what do you know?

“Did you know,” the man begins, “that sea otters eat 25% of their weight in food every day?”

Well. That certainly explains it. “I didn’t.”

“I like to give them the crab legs too because it’s a fun little activity for them,” he carries on with a smile. “It’s also something they’d eat in the wild.”

“That seems…expensive,” you say carefully.

The man only smiles bigger. “Oh it is! But our boss has really great donors for the aquarium and we can afford to feed them well.”

“Well, then the otters are definitely lucky,” you note and turn back to the otters.

“We all are. Chan takes care of us just as well as all the animals that live here,” he says.

“Chan?” you ask.

“Oh, our boss,” the man carries on happily. “I’m Soonyoung, by the way.”

You take his extended hand and give your own name in response. Soonyoung happily carries on with telling you all about the otters they have, including the name of each one. Then he offers to take you on a tour of the aquarium because of your interest. It’s too nice of an offer to turn down. It also further proves that you should not judge a book by its cover. Every inch of the aquarium is so masterfully cared for and every living being seems happy. That is, if a fish can also seem happy. The tanks aren’t overcrowded or dirty. And, you can’t explain it, but you can just tell they’re happy. Each person that they encounter seems to genuinely love their job. You’re not even sure why you’re paying such close attention. Or why you care so much.

Truthfully, there’s always been something of a call to the ocean. A peace that comes over you when you’re near the water. It was enough to get you to move cities, figuring that would satisfy that need. The pull only got stronger. Plenty of people feel at peace surrounded by water, you reason, and don’t think further on it. You don’t consider that worrying about the conditions in an aquarium may not be normal. Don’t consider that most people don’t start getting moody when they’ve been separated from the ocean too long. Don’t consider that it really is only the ocean. Although sometimes a freshwater lake, when it’s big enough with plenty of fish in it, will fill up your cup, it never lasts as long. It also never works to alleviate your mood when you do something as simple as going into the pool.

The trip around the aquarium with Soonyoung seems like exactly what you need. Until suddenly, it doesn’t. As he’s taking you through an exhibit area, a young man appears from behind a closed door marked as Staff Only. He’s got a dress shirt on with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His short dark hair highlights striking features. And, you think, he would be beautiful if it weren’t for the frown on his face. He looks entirely too serious for someone so young. He’s also much more dressed up than anyone else at the aquarium.

“Oh, there he is!” Soonyoung exclaims, causing the man to turn towards the two of you. His face softens a bit at seeing Soonyoung before studying you somewhat quizzically.

“Soon,” he says with the air of someone exasperated at Soonyoung’s antics.

“This is Chan, our boss,” Soonyoung carries on and your eyebrows fly into your hairline as he introduces you to his boss.

Truthfully, Chan looks younger than Soonyoung in some ways. But, there’s a wisdom in his face that your new friend lacks. Like he’s lived a hundred lifetimes already. It catches you off guard. But, Chan extends his hand to shake yours and that’s when you feel it. A sudden surge of annoyance that lasts only as long as your hands are connected. If he feels anything, he doesn’t show it. His smile is friendly and it only confuses you further.

A moment later, Chan excuses himself from the pair of you and Soonyoung leads you away to continue the tour. You can’t really shake the odd feeling you got from the handshake, though. When Soonyoung concludes his tour, you ask about opportunities to volunteer. There’s something about this place that feels like home and you’re not really sure what it is. Soonyoung’s face brightens.

“Chan doesn’t believe in volunteers. Even if you only come in once a month, he pays you for your time and obviously waives the entrance fee so you can come visit even when you’re not working,” he says with a bright smile.

“Oh, I don’t need a job…” you start before he waves you off.

“Leave me your contact information and I’ll pass it on. He coordinates everything himself and he can go over it all with you. I’m sure he’d be happy to have another animal lover around here,” Soonyoung says with a smile that you can’t ignore. You just met this man, why are you already incapable of saying no to him?

“Do you have some paper?” you ask.

Chan spends the rest of the day thinking about you after a simple handshake. Then, when Soonyoung tells him that you’re interested in helping out, his pulse races in a way that’s entirely foreign to him. He can’t remember the last time a human turned his world upside down with something so seemingly trivial. In fact, he was so focused on keeping his face neutral, he didn’t notice the look on your face in response to him. He’s too concerned with seeing you again to consider anything else. Too consumed by the need to unravel whatever mystery there is to you that he can’t seem to place. Honestly, Chan can’t remember the last time he felt anything even approaching this. Nothing makes him really feel in this way. Not anymore, at least. He finds himself counting down until your first shift.

Until it actually gets here, that is.

You report to Chan’s office, just as he asks. He holds his breath as you cast your eyes around his office area. Wonders what you’re thinking when your gaze lingers on certain things within the office. For a second, Chan considers whether it seems human enough. It’s been nearly a year since anyone new joined the staff and he wonders if he’s gotten sloppy. Nothing in your face seems to give any sort of feeling away. It surprises Chan a bit that he can’t seem to read anything about you. When your eyes rest on him, he sees a flicker of something he can’t place. Something that looks an awful lot like annoyance.

He confirms it when his hand accidentally grazes yours to hand over your new ID. It says volunteer since you insist on only being there when you have the time, but it’s a full ID anyway. That’s just how Chan does things. When his hand meets yours briefly, he gets the sharpest flash of irritation he’s ever felt. It’s confusing because it is definitely not his own emotion that he’s feeling. And that’s not something that Chan can remember happening before either. Not like this at least.

Chan has powers, he knows that. He can, sometimes, tune into the emotions of others. It’s easiest when he’s trying to tune into a sea animal or someone at home in water. Back before Olympus fell, he was able to tune into the emotions or even the minds of all the creatures in the sea, like the sirens, sea nymphs, merpeople, and everything else you could imagine. Even then, he usually has to actively try to tap into those emotions. It’s not something that just…happens. Not when all he’s done is let his hand graze someone else’s. Not when he’s not actively trying to feel something. It shouldn’t be something that happens with a mere human, either.

You, for your part, don’t seem to realize there’s anything out of the ordinary. Your face looks the same. The same annoyance that you’re trying your hardest to mask under a poor attempt at indifference. Trying to shake it off, Chan calls for Soonyoung to come into the office. But, that doesn’t make it any better. It’s worse, really, because your face immediately changes into one of genuine happiness. Soonyoung seems just as happy to see you and happy at the prospect of showing you around. To be fair, Soonyoung always seems happy when there’s someone new around for him to chat with. Still, your face lighting up for him frustrates Chan in a way he can’t explain.

Your first few times volunteering at the aquarium go really smoothly. Well, once you’re handed off to Soonyoung, it’s smooth. There’s just something about your new boss that you can’t really put your finger on. Seeing him causes annoyance to flare within you. It’s something deep that you can’t really explain and can’t recall feeling before. There’s no reason for you to dislike this man. He’s really just a man, which shouldn’t be enough on its own. Whenever he’s around, he’s perfectly friendly. It’s obvious that he cares deeply for every living thing within the aquarium. This is something he’s incredibly passionate about, which should endear him to you. Yet, it doesn’t. You can’t recall ever disliking a fellow animal lover until now.

Thankfully, you don’t really have to deal with Chan very often. Soonyoung handles your training when you’re working, but everyone that works there seems kind. And everyone seems young. The place is full of bright-eyed 20-somethings who all genuinely seem to want to be there. It contributes to that little nagging feeling in that back of your mind that something is just…off. Not with anyone that works there apart from Chan, though.

Soonyoung seems delighted to see how quickly the otters warm up to you. Apparently, they can be a bit picky with new people. But, the first time you meet them, they all flock to you instead of their normal handler. Anyone else might be frustrated. Instead, he only thinks it’s cute that they seem to love you. Tells you that he thinks he means you're a good person. Apparently, he often judges people based on how the animals react. You both have that in common. It only seems to reinforce the point when this happens with each new enclosure you go to. None of the animals seem to treat you like a stranger. It’s more like they’re greeting an old friend. You can’t really explain that you feel the same way. Your brain periodically supplies a story for some of your new animal friends, too. It’s not the first time it’s happened and you figure it only makes sense in this setting. Your imagination is active and you love the sea creatures.

Each new visit to the aquarium seems somehow better than the last. Well, in most ways. You often feel Chan’s gaze on you before you even look over at him to check. And each time he is actually looking at you. There’s something that just sets your nerves on edge about it. Even the animals around you seem to react to the sudden surge of anger that courses through you. It’s a strong physical reaction without any clear reason that you can figure out. Yet, it’s the way you feel every time you sense his attention on you.

“You good?” Soonyoung asks, eyes cast down at your hands balled into fists.

“Yeah, sorry,” you apologize, turning back to him. “What were you saying?”

“What’s going on with you and Chan?” he asks skeptically.

“Between Chan and me?” you ask with clear surprise.

“Yeah,” he says. “He spends half the time you’re here watching you and…”

“He does, doesn’t he?” you ask, a little too loud. “What’s up with that?”

“What’s up with your hatred for him?” he asks instead.

“I don’t know, I just get a bad feeling,” you say after a moment. “Do you like him?”

“Do I like the boss that overpays me to hang out with animals all day?” he asks with a laugh. Then, he looks at your face and carries on. “Oh, you’re serious. Yeah, I love Chan. None of us really know him that well because he keeps his distance from the staff outside of work, mostly. But, he’s the best boss I can imagine having. I don’t ever get bad vibes off him.”

“Huh,” is all you say before turning back to whatever Soonyoung is teaching you.

Your eyes catch on the mysterious aquarium owner once again and that anger flares. But, you realize that it’s something more complicated than anger. It’s far too complex an emotion to put a name too and definitely too complex for someone you barely know.

It’s just odd you think, not for the first time, that someone seemingly so young is running an aquarium that doesn’t seem to be that busy. How is he affording to take care of the animals and pay his staff so well? How is someone that seems so unlikeable able to convince so many donors to give money when it could be better spent elsewhere?

The nagging voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you seem to be the only person that doesn’t love Chan. Everyone on the staff seems to love him. The few donors his staff have met also seem to only have good things to say. You have to consider the possibility that your feelings about him could be personal or that you’re seeing something that doesn’t impact anyone else. It’s still weird, though. Nothing about this business model should work. Is that a reason to hate someone you don’t actually know? You’re not sure.

Chan speaks with a dolphin that he’s grown to trust. No, not Chan. Poseidon. He’s Poseidon again, in all his glory. And he’s asking the dolphin to find someone for him. He’s explaining where she might be and what to say to her when the dolphin finds her. Stressing how important it is that the dolphin is the one to find her because they’re not the only ones looking. There are others looking as well and Poseidon doesn’t want them to find her. It would be bad, he knows, if anyone but himself or someone working on his behalf were to discover the truth. He’s protecting her as much as he’s protecting himself. At least, that’s what his brain insists. Whether it’s true or not, well…

The scene blurs and shifts. Poseidon is once again by the sea and this time speaking to a giant squid instead of the dolphin. The squid tells him that the woman has been found. That the dolphin succeeded and is currently speaking to her. That brings Poseidon a small sense of relief. Surely, when she understands the situation, she’ll be not only willing to come home but happy to do so. Nothing can keep them separated any longer. They are truly meant to be.

Again, the scene blurs and shifts. This time, Poseidon sits on his throne, trident in hand, while one of his brother’s messengers kneels before him. When she rises, she delivers the message that Zeus has requested for Poseidon and his bride-to-be to join himself and Hera for an upcoming event. That’s not good, Poseidon thinks, not good at all. Surely his brother isn’t fully aware of the situation and yet he sends his messengers with invitations like this. Just as Poseidon prepares himself to make an excuse, the door to the room opens. Usually, he doesn’t allow interruptions, as his guards well know. But, the sight of his love walking through with her head held high keeps him from scolding the guards. He cannot believe that she’s back and walking in as if nothing happened. As if it hasn’t been weeks since they last saw each other. He got word she was coming back, but had not dared to hope for this.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, my love, but I heard your brother had sent an invitation,” she begins. The messenger won’t notice the hesitation or the emotions that pour off of her because she doesn’t have that gift. Poseidon feels it, though. It doesn’t put him at ease

“It’s fine. You are always welcome to hear anything shared here with me,” he says quickly.

She turns to the messenger with her signature soft smile. “I would still apologize for interrupting your message. However, I heard that you were here with an invitation. I fear that my darling may have declined as I was recently suffering an illness.”

“Yes, that is what I was about to do,” Poseidon agrees.

“There is no need for that as I have told you that I am feeling much better now,” she says with a brief, but calculated, smile at Poseidon. She returns to the messenger. “Please inform Zeus that we would be delighted to join him.”

“I am thankful to hear you’re feeling better and to…see you with my own eyes,” the messenger says slightly suspiciously.

“I am also thankful that I will get to see Hera. After all, we have so much to discuss with the upcoming wedding,” his bride-to-be says.

With pleasant goodbyes, the messenger takes her leave and Poseidon excuses the guards remaining in the chamber. He indicates that his bride should follow him to a much smaller room off to the side so that they can speak. After all, there is so much to discuss after her running away and only to finally return. Yes, she had indicated to the messenger that she intended to go through with the wedding, but Poseidon needs answers. He needs to know why she left and to impress upon her that she could not do something like that again.

Chan wakes up in the early hours of the morning in a cold sweat from the most vivid dream he’s had in centuries. The fact that a dream lingers at all is strange on its own. He doesn’t dream. Not anymore, at least. When he does, the subject is usually something inane and the remnants of it are gone by the time he’s fully awake. This dream is both vivid and lingering, seared into the back of his eyelids like it may never leave him. Perhaps it is because it’s not just a dream.

There’s a lot to Chan’s past that he wants to forget and for good reason. When he was one of the gods of Olympus, he made a lot of decisions that he wouldn’t make now. Or, he likes to think he wouldn’t make the same decisions now. It’s hard to remember the feeling of the weight of the world so many years later. But, he knows he did a lot of things in the interest of finding the greater good. Something that ruined some of his closest relationships and clearly still haunts him today.

Which leads him to this dream. A dream of Amphitrite. The legends about the gods of Olympus over the years have gotten a lot of information both right and wrong. Unfortunately, the legend of Poseidon and Amphitrite seems mostly right, at least to Chan. She was the one true love of his life. The only being in the entire universe that he actually wanted to spend an eternity with. And he had not treated her the way he should have. Hadn’t appreciated her and respected her autonomy the way he should have. That’s something he thinks about now, as he continues to mature and evolve to understand all the mistakes he made once upon a time. He knows that the way he tried to hold onto her was wrong and that he worried entirely too much about what the other Olympians would think if he lost her.

There’s also a part of him that lingers on the way she looked in the dream. He remembers that conversation because it actually happened. But, he’s not sure if he’s actually remembering the way she looked or the way he felt a tightness to his chest. That could just as easily be him looking back on the interaction through a different lens. There are so many things he wishes he could go back and change with her. So many things he wishes he could say. Mostly, even though he loved her more than he even loved himself, he wishes he could go back and give her the chance to walk away. To leave him without any sort of reprisal from the other Olympians.

After all these years, he regrets how their relationship went. It wasn’t love when someone didn’t have options. He knows that he can’t change the past. He knows that he can’t even ask for forgiveness. It’s part of why he keeps himself from getting too close to anyone now, he thinks. As a sort of penance for forcing the only one he ever loved into a marriage that he can’t say that she wanted. Of course, she told him when she came back it was because she wanted to. Insisted that she was just nervous to be thrust into such a spotlight by his side. Says that she was worried because he had other relationships with other people and she saw how it affected other Olympians, like Hera with Zeus. That wasn’t who she ever wanted to turn into. Chan took her at what she said. It was only after he lost her that he realized it may not have been the truth. Their love may not have been the great story that he created in his head.

He knows that he won’t be able to fall back to sleep, so he resigns himself to starting his day. After he gets ready, he sits down with a cup of coffee and his schedule for the aquarium. Today is the once per month visit from the local marine veterinarians. Although miraculously, it seems the animals never need much care, the vets still come in every month. They collect samples and run their tests to ensure that everything is going well as a general health study. They have staff that come over more frequently for some of the animals that need more consistent care. It’s also an excellent place to study since Chan allows them such complete access.

That monthly visit isn’t what really catches his eye. Your name is on the schedule and Soonyoung has you listed as the person who will be working with the vets to make sure they have the help they need. It’s standard, really, and Chan knows Soonyoung will be around as well. That man can never ignore a chance to chat with anyone that comes through regularly. Chan also knows that Soonyoung trusts you. There’s just something about your name that sends his stomach lurching without an explanation. Sure, you haven’t exactly been the warmest in the interactions with Chan, but you’re good at the jobs assigned. It’s like there’s something just on the edge of his consciousness about you. Something just out of reach. A connection that he should be able to make and can’t. At least, not yet.

Even though he’s going to be very early, he sets off for the aquarium and tries to shake the feeling that there’s something about you he should see. He’s never been very good when he can’t solve a problem. You may present his most complex puzzle yet.

It’s one of the best days since you first started volunteering at the aquarium. Somehow this is the first time you’ve gotten to see the vets there for a full day and it even makes you extend your own shift. Well, it’s partially influenced by Soonyoung’s offer to buy dinner if you’re still there when he gets finished. Mostly, though, you’re just fascinated watching the vets do their work. It’s interesting to see how willing the animals are to be still for tests and how it seems like they know what to expect. You know that animals are smart and they can learn. There’s something a little different about this, though. Not only do they seem to actually see the veterinarians, but they also actively wait their turns to be seen.

At the end of the day, you’re a little tired and feeling very accomplished at the same time. Maybe all of Soonyoung’s energy is actually infectious because you find that you’re ready to go get dinner with your friend after work. His presence is somehow calming to you even in all of the chaos. Once you make sure everything is done, you change into the spare clothes you have with you. The last thing you want is to smell like fish and whatever else got on you over the course of the day. Then, you go to find your friend.

“Hey, are you ready for dinner?” you ask without realizing that he’s standing with Chan.

“You guys have plans?” Chan asks with curiosity, looking from you back to Soonyoung.

Soonyoung looks incredibly apologetic. “I’m so sorry, but I completely forgot that it’s roomies night in and I can’t skip it because I missed the last one.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” you say quickly and wave it off.

“You should come! We always have a bunch of appetizers and stuff. I can’t remember what movie it is tonight, but it’ll be fun!” he says, as enthusiastic as ever. “I know I offered to buy dinner tonight…”

“I appreciate it, Soonie, but I think I’m just going to get dinner and go home,” you say. “I’m going to hold you to your dinner offer, though.”

“I was actually just about to go get something to eat myself,” Chan interrupts and you narrow your eyes. “I would be happy to get dinner for you as well as a thanks for everything you’ve been doing here.”

“I don’t want to make…” you start, only to have Soonyoung cut across you.

“That’s so nice of you, Chan,” he says and turns to you. “You should go! He’s got the best taste in restaurants. I still think about the last time he took all the staff out.”

“It’s really fine, I can just get something on my way home,” you say.

“I insist,” Chan says with something unreadable on his face. “Please. Let me say thank you for jumping in so completely.”

“Yeah, what reason could you have to say no?” Soonyoung asks with a smirk. That’s the other thing about your new friend. He can be such a shithead when he wants to be. Of course he’s using this to needle you about your dislike of the boss. It comes up at least once every time you’re at the aquarium (and plenty of times when you’re texting outside of work).

You sigh, knowing that there’s no easy way to get out of this. “Okay, let me just get my things and I’ll meet you at the entrance.”

The walk from the aquarium to Chan’s favorite restaurant is outwardly quiet. It’s not entirely uncomfortable to walk in silence with you. Or, it wouldn’t be if your emotions weren’t screaming into the silence. The general annoyance that seems to be present any time Chan is in the same space as you comes through loudest. There’s more now that it’s just the two of you outside of work now, too. He feels a kind of anger and distrust coming off of you along with confusion about why you feel any of these emotions. It takes time to separate that as your own confusion because Chan’s also confused. The two of you barely interact at work and yet your distaste for him rolls off of you in violent waves, like an angry ocean. It’s the only time he’s felt something like this from someone at work. Everyone else seems to like him at the very least. Something about you is very different.

Thankfully, it’s harder for Chan to sense you once you get into the restaurant. It’s a little busier since it’s a weekend, but you still get seated right away. If you’re impressed with how Chan greets the staff like old friends, you don’t show it. Just sit down in the chair and accept the menu with a smile before disappearing behind it. Suddenly, this doesn’t really seem like the best idea. What does it matter if you don’t like him?

“You don’t like me,” Chan announces a second later. He never has been able to let a mystery go unsolved. He’s also always prided himself on being able to work out a puzzle. He tries not to ever be as arrogant as his brother, though.

That makes you peer across the table at him. When he thinks you’re not going to answer, you blurt out: “No, I don’t,” and seem genuinely surprised.

Chan chuckles and looks back at the menu. “At least you admitted it.”

“I really don’t know why I just said that,” you carry on, setting your menu down.

“Is it not true?” Chan asks.

“No,” you say and that makes Chan raise his eyebrows. “I mean, it is true. I don’t really like you. I’m just not sure why…”

“Why you said it? Or why you don’t like me?” he presses.

“Both,” you say with a shrug.

“Can I ask you something?” he wonders.

“You can,” you say. “I’m not gonna promise to answer if I don’t want to.”

“That’s fair,” Chan says with a smile. “Why do you volunteer at the aquarium if you don’t like me?”

“I like to be around the animals,” you say immediately. “I feel at peace.”

“You misunderstood part of what I was asking,” he says. Your eyes are wide. “Why not let me pay you if you don’t like me? You could be making money instead of offering your time for free.”

That actually makes you laugh. Not a fake polite laugh, one of the real laughs he hears when Soonyoung gets you going. It’s a beautiful sound and it instantly reminds Chan of something. Or someone. He’s not really sure beyond wanting to hear it again.

“You’re kind of funny. I’ll give you that,” you concede.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says, eyes still glued to you.

“I don’t know why it doesn’t feel right to take money for working at the aquarium. It just doesn’t,” you shrug. “It’s the first time in my life that I’ve ever really felt like I was where I’m supposed to be and I probably sound crazy saying it. But, I get to the aquarium and my brain gets quiet and it’s like a weight lifts off my chest.”

“You don’t sound crazy,” is all Chan can say for a second.

He’s looking at you differently now and he’s not even concerned if you realize it. It’s like something clicks for him. Like he finally pinpoints what it is about you. Of course he didn’t realize at first. It’s so unbelievably uncommon that he never thought to look. But, there’s no denying it. The way you are around the aquarium, the way you seem to slot in like you’ve been there all along, the way he can read your emotions without trying.

This isn’t your first life. He’s only seen it a handful of times since Olympus fell. The main gods of Olympus, like himself, were able to seek refuge on Earth. Other beings were not so lucky. Many managed one or two reincarnations, but more still just…ceased to exist. It’s something he and some of the others spent a lot of time working through in the beginning. It’s been over two hundred years since Chan came across a reincarnated soul. Yet, here you are. Sitting before him. There’s no mistaking it. Once upon a time, you had been a sea nymph in Olympus. Everything clicks into place when he acknowledges that. He knows the sea nymphs as well as he knows himself. It seems impossible that he wouldn’t recognize all the signs and mannerisms. Then again, he hasn’t come across a reincarnated sea nymph in a very long time. Centuries.

“Are you okay?” you ask after a few moments.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says and shakes his head. This isn’t the place to try to process this. “I just haven’t met anyone that could relate to the way I feel in a long time.”

“You don’t think I’m crazy?” you ask, voice thick with hope. It’s the first time he’s been around you without feeling any negative emotions.

“Not at all,” he assures you. “I should have known that you understood as well. I felt like you were a kindred spirit, but…”

“I’ve been cold?” you offer with a light laugh.

“Cautious, I would say,” he disagrees.

“Maybe we should just start over,” you suggest and that makes Chan smile.

Dinner actually gets much livelier from there on out. Realizing your past allows Chan to entirely change his approach. Without saying anything before you’re ready, he lets his guard down. In doing so, he hopes that some part of you will realize the connection runs deep. It seems to work, even if it’s only a little. Curiosity becomes the most prominent emotion and he capitalizes on it.

Chan is able to suggest some of the dishes that he really likes before you ask if you can just get a few things and share them. You’re asking questions about the aquarium and his life that he tries to answer in a way that sounds honest without inviting follow up questions. Instead, he finds himself wanting to know more about you. Despite your initial reluctance to talk too much about yourself, he gets you to open up to his questions. Each answer you give draws him in further. Gives more of a glimpse into you as a person. Nothing feels too small to learn. He wants to map each of your reactions to things you actually love to things that seem difficult to speak about.

Before either of you realizes it, it’s been over two hours and the restaurant is starting to wind down. Of course, nobody rushes you since Chan knows everyone there by name. But, you still insist it’s probably best to head out. Surprisingly, he’s still only picking up on warmer emotions from you now and maybe that makes him a little bolder.

“There’s this really great ice cream shop just a little walk that way,” he says as you’re exiting the restaurant.

The sideways look you give him leaves him wondering if he’s misread the situation. Then, you’re smiling like you know a secret. “I’m shocked you eat dessert.”

“Are you…are you checking me out?” he splutters. Very little manages to catch him off guard and you have him stumbling over a simple question.

Without answering, you just laugh and start walking in the direction he indicated. When he doesn’t immediately follow, you look over your shoulder and call out to him. “Well? I thought we were getting ice cream.”

“You can’t just say shit like that and expect…” he starts as he hurries to catch up with you.

“Expect what?” you ask, actually poking out at his side. “I would bet my entire life savings that I’m not the first person to check you out.”

“Oh, so you were checking me out,” he says like he’s just won.

“I think that’s only fair with how many times I’ve already caught you checking me out,” you fire back, effectively wiping the smug look of Chan’s face.

It’s been a long time since someone challenged him the way you seem to. Now that you’re talking openly, it feels like he’s known you for years. There’s a comfort that he can’t remember feeling in centuries. It feels like you just implicitly understand a piece of them that he tries to hide in any other situation.

Something whispers from the back of his mind, like a tickle of familiarity. He ignores it, though, in favor of getting to know the incredibly interesting person before him that doesn’t seem to hate him anymore.

After having dinner with Chan, you start to look forward to your shifts for an entirely different reason. Yes, you still get the peace that comes along with being around so many beautiful animals and so much water. You also get to feel the pleasant shift of feelings when Chan is around. Instead of feeling like something gnaws at your consciousness, now you feel a warmth coursing through your body. It’s a little strange, too, because it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

Soonyoung notices the way you and Chan gravitate towards each other now and says nothing despite the knowing smile. You don’t have to ask him to know that he thinks it’s down to him insisting you get dinner together. He doesn’t comment, though, and you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. It’s hard to stop yourself from smiling, even when that makes Soonyoung smile even harder. It’s like he wants all the details of something that you don’t have many details on. At least, not at first.

Hanging out with Chan outside of the aquarium becomes a regular thing, even on the days that you don’t go in. Each of you shows the other your favorite places in the area and you find yourself looking forward to that time more than anything else. Once or twice, you even consider asking Chan if he’s got a more full time position for you at the aquarium. You don’t quite realize you��re not living fully until something like this happens and so much more of life opens up before you. For now, though, you’ll settle for dragging him to a couple of food trucks that you love. He looks entirely out of place in his slacks and dress shirt, though at least he’s rolled up his sleeves.

“So when are you going to come work with us full time,” he asks after sitting down with his food in front of him. He doesn’t ask you to work for him. Even his phrasing is considerate.

“Oh, well, I…” you stutter out.

“You don’t have to, of course,” he assures you. “I’ve just never met anyone that’s better at it than you and you’re not even there that often”

“I have been considering it,” you admit.

“What’s holding you back?” he asks.

You take a bite to give yourself a minute to think about the answer to that. What is holding you back? Admittedly, you’ve never felt more at ease anywhere else. It’s increasingly harder to leave every time your shift is over. You look forward to when the next one will be. Have even added extra shifts when you can fit them in. There’s a part of you that also looks forward to seeing Chan. Although, you know that you could see him whenever you wanted. He always seems to make time for you.

“I don’t know,” you finally say.

“Well, there’s a position waiting for you if you ever want it,” he says with a look on his face that you can’t quite read.

“Why are you so patient with me?” you ask.

“Because we understand each other,” he answers a little too quickly.

“It’s more than that,” you press, feeling, for the first time, like he’s keeping something from you.

Chan sighs and sets his food down. “It is, but this isn’t the place to discuss it.”

That catches you a little off guard. Thinking that there was more to the story and having him admit it so easily were two different things. “You’re not secretly in love with me or something, are you?”

He laughs at the look on your face and it eases a little of the tension. “I don’t think it’s a secret that I love being around you.”

“No, I guess that’s true,” you say with your own laugh.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’ll tell you when we finish eating and we can leave. This kind of thing…well, it’s best to say to you somewhere that’s not so out in the open.”

That announcement surprises you, but it also excites you a little. It’s difficult not to rush through dinner, a fact that Chan picks up on and laughs about. Makes a joke about wanting to get him alone that has color rising on your cheeks. There’s an air of confidence about him despite whatever he’s going to share with you. It makes it a little easier for you to also be calm because it can’t be that bad. If it were bad, he would not seem so confident.

After dinner, and a short back and forth, he takes you back to his apartment, which includes walking by the aquarium. Somehow, you’re still much more nervous than he seems to be. It seems like the most natural thing in the world for him to invite you back to see where he lives. He also seems quick to assure you that it’s not that he’s trying to get you alone. It just needs to be a space that is actually private.

Despite any better judgment you may have, your curiosity is piqued. What is it that he has to say to you that others can’t overhear? Is he about to admit some crazy belief? Or tell you that somehow you were destined to meet? You’re not really sure what sort of comment might come once the two of you are alone, but you’re distracted the second you step into his apartment. It’s amazingly decorated. It feels both cozy and modern at the same time. It also feels so impossibly like him and the ocean combined into one. Maybe that’s saying the same thing. He does give you the impression of the water sometimes.

Being inside of Chan’s personal space also feels surprisingly natural. He disappears off into the kitchen without a second thought and allows you to look around the space. When he returns, it’s with a drink for you as he encourages you to take a seat on his couch. It’s the most comfortable couch you’ve ever sat down on.

“How much do you know about the Gods of Olympus?” he asks without any preamble. Thankfully, you haven’t taken a drink yet. Otherwise, you might have spit it out.

“Like the stuff from mythology?” you ask. It’s so unexpected.

A little voice whispers in the back of your head asking if it’s really that unexpected. The truth is: you’ve always been incredibly fascinated by the myths. There’s a draw to them almost to the point of getting lost in them. But, are you going to admit that you’ve read all the books you could find and watched all the shows or movies? It’s only fantasy, really, when you think about it. You’ve bared a lot of your soul to Chan without meaning to. You’re not sure you want him to laugh at you about this. That same little voice comes back to ask if he would laugh. You’re not so sure.

“Not exactly,” he says with a knowing laugh. “You consume it though, don’t you? I can see it on your face.”

“I - well, lots of people do, don’t they?” you ask noncommittally.

“Not like you, I’d bet,” he answers, unbothered.

“I guess it’s a bit of a guilty pleasure,” you finally admit.

“I think it’s more than that,” Chan presses.

“How can it be? They’re just myths after all,” you say.

“Do you believe that?” he asks and it’s like he’s challenging every one of your long held notions.

“Chan, what did you want to tell me?” you ask.

“Let me tell you about Olympus as I remember it,” he says.

“As you…remember it,” you say slowly. “Chan, what…”

“Just hear me out and let me tell you a story. You can decide afterwards if I’m crazy or if it makes everything fall into place,” he says.

And he does tell you a story. It’s a story about the Gods of Olympus with more information thrown in than you’ve ever read in any story or seen in any movie. It’s at once more fantastical and somehow more believable than anything. There are parts that you recognize. Parts that seem to line up with the stories. And there are parts that feel entirely new. Parts that are deeply emotional and clearly difficult for Chan to say. You delight in the way his face lights up when he talks about the parties or living amongst the sea animals. Completely accept it at face value when he tells you about how his scouts used to be dolphins and how much he misses that. Your heart breaks when he talks about the fights with his siblings and the other Olympians. It all feels like you’re walking along beside him in his stories.

It’s insane to think that any of this could be real. You keep telling yourself as you listen to the stories. But, it’s hard to remember that when you see the look on Chan’s face. There’s fondness when he talks about some of the sillier memories. Like he can’t believe that anyone was ever that ridiculous. There’s genuine pain as he tries to get through the more complicated parts. When it comes time to tell you about how Olympus fell, he chokes up.

You believe him. It’s like something shifts and you can tell that he’s not crazy. He’s not delusional. He’s not on some crazy conspiracy theory. He was Poseidon once upon a time. The feelings of calm that you feel every time you walk into the aquarium wash over you. Like this is the only thing that’s ever made sense. That should be a little disorienting to take in all that information. Instead it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Chan isn’t even done talking when you lean over and press your lips against his. You’re not even sure why you do it or if it’s the right thing to do. When you go to pull away, he puts his hand behind your head and holds you against him. Kisses you breathless like nobody has ever kissed you before. It feels instantly familiar and new all at the same time. Like something you may have done before. But, it also sends sparks flying through your entire body.

“So, should I carry on with telling you how you fit into all of this?” he asks when the two of you break apart from the kiss.

“Me?” you ask, still recovering from the impulsive act of kissing him.

“Yes, you,” he says with a soft smile.

“I’m just a person lucky enough to meet an actual god, what could I…” you start.

“You’re not just a person,” he contradicts with a frown.

“I’m not trying to diminish myself or anything,” you assure him, but he still shakes his head.

“Can I talk?” he asks without any exasperation, though you may deserve it. You just nod. “You’re not just a person. You’re…well, I’m not sure how it works, really. I’ve come across it so infrequently. You have the reincarnated soul of a sea nymph within you. Possibly even one I encountered in another life.”

“How can that be?” you ask with wide eyes. “No, I’m just a normal person, I…”

“If you think about it, it actually makes perfect sense,” he says and carries on.

It sounds so simple when he outlines it for you. He asks you about your connection with the ocean, talks about your instant familiarity with the aquarium and how at peace you feel. Points out that you never feel at peace in a swimming pool, though you’re sure you’ve never said that to him. He talks about your mood shifting when you’re away from the water for too long or the way that everything about the water just seems easier. He even laughs when you admit that once when you were on vacation, a dolphin came right up to you in the ocean and seemed like it wanted your attention. It’s also not the only time something like that happened.

Everything starts to fall into place. It’s like decoding the last little cypher of your life up until that point and showing you memories in a different light. You wonder if you’ll be able to remember anything from being a sea nymph and Chan looks apologetic when he says he doesn’t think it’ll work like that. But, he admits he’s never gotten close enough to another reincarnated soul like this to fully be able to answer it. The excitement drowns out a small voice in the back of your head that’s urging you to move cautiously. Urging you to consider if all of this really sounds right.

You can’t really help the way your bodies seem to be drawn to each other. Many more kisses follow now that the invisible barrier seems broken. When he’s not kissing you, Chan runs his hands along whatever part of you that he can reach.

Eventually, you don’t really want to talk. It seems absentminded, the way that Chan runs his fingers along your arm or squeezes your thigh. It’s driving you insane, though, and you need to know if he’s feeling as bothered as you are.

“How much are you paying attention to this conversation?” you ask.

“Uh…” he says, eyes widening a bit at the question. It’s the first time he’s looked remotely out of control.

“You’re driving me crazy,” you whine and look at his hand gripping your thigh.

That causes his look to change entirely. He’s not out of control anymore. Now he looks a bit smug. “Oh, I’m driving you crazy?”

“Yes,” you admit without a second thought.

“I thought you weren’t even sure if you liked me?” he presses and you huff out a breath.

“I already kissed you, Chan. I think it’s clear I’m not on the fence anymore,” you say.

“Maybe I should show you my bedroom,” he says and stands.

You take his outstretched hand without hesitation. “Finally.”

The two of you get through the doorway into his bedroom and he doesn’t even bother pretending to give you a tour. He only turns around to face you, crowding your space and forcing you back into the doorframe. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you hard. It’s not desperate, it’s perfectly controlled. Nobody has ever kissed you like this before. At least nobody that you can remember. His body presses tight against yours until you’re gasping for breath. Still, he doesn’t let you relax. He’s proving a point. If you thought he was driving you crazy earlier, it’s nothing to this.

You gasp into his mouth when he moves a hand to hitch one of your legs around his hip. Gasp again when he does the same to your other leg and he’s balancing you against the doorframe. It seems impossible that he’s this strong. Maybe that’s part of being a god because he also barely seems to lose his breath as he keeps kissing you. You’re not usually so content to let someone else lead, but it’s so easy with him. It helps that nothing is frantic. Even though he’s driving you crazy, you love that it doesn’t feel rushed. Love that he’s really taking his time with you.

It could be minutes that Chan kisses you or it could be hours and you’re not really sure if you would know the difference. When he sets you down, it feels like an immediate loss. At least until he pulls you towards the bed. Only his eyes give away how badly he wants you. They’re dark with lust that you’re sure your own eyes reflect back at him.

“Is this still okay?” he asks, voice thick with desire. You nod. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Chan. I want this,” you assure him.

Thankfully it’s the only reassurance that he needs. He gently pushes you back onto his bed and immediately gets to work pulling your clothing off you. His eyes drink in every mark on your body and for the first time, you’re not self conscious. You don’t feel like there’s something wrong with you and it has nothing to do with the way he looks at you. Though, it doesn’t hurt that his desire only grows as he peels your clothing off. No, there’s just this inexplicable comfort with him. That voice in the back of your head quiets. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re so in the moment or because this is actually right. You’re not really sure it matters.

When Chan steps back from you, you have the briefest moment of insecurity. It’s gone the next moment when he starts to undo the buttons on his shirt. Actually, your entire mind goes blank. If Chan was beautiful with clothes on, it’s nothing to seeing him removing his shirt. You know that he can change his appearance at will and know that it’s how he’s fit into places this long. So, you know that it might not be entirely him, but you’re not sure you care. Your eyes travel over the scars he still has. Probably remnants of real scars over the years. Somehow the imperfections make him more perfect in your eyes. You’re so caught up in looking at the scars that you miss him removing the rest of his clothing until he’s approaching you.

“Sit back,” he instructs.

You do as he asks without even thinking twice about it. That, at least, makes a voice stir in the back of your mind. Makes you wonder why you’re so content to do as he asks. When he climbs onto the bed and settles between your legs, the voice goes quiet again. He peppers up your leg and down the other with feather light kisses. He doesn’t draw out the build up, though.

Chan runs a finger carefully through your folds and it makes you shudder. He watches your body carefully as he does it again, like he’s trying to map your reactions to everything. Like he wants to know exactly how to make you come undone. It’s such a simple action that works you up. When he licks into your pussy, you think it’s your new favorite feeling. It makes your entire brain go fuzzy. You don’t even realize that you’re arching your back until one of his hands snakes up your stomach to press you back into place.

It’s almost too much, the way he works you over. He’s constantly changing the pace and his movements. His mouth moves up to suck on your clit and his finger moves down to pump into your pussy in lazy motions. The contrast of the movements makes you squirm. When you feel like you’re getting close to an orgasm, he switches it up again and pulls you back from the edge. Over and over again. He keeps switching up his attention every time you feel yourself getting close.

“Chan, oh my fucking god,” you groan. “I’m going to die if you don’t let me come.”

“Well, you got one thing right,” he says, pulling away from your pussy. “I am a god.”

“I hate you,” you say without any heat.

He pulls himself up your body so that he’s hovering over you, entirely too close. You can see the way your juices cover his lips. He eyes you greedily and it’s the hottest thing in the world. It’s even hotter when he lets you pull him down on top of you and kiss him. You moan into his mouth when he ruts his hard length against your thigh.

When he pulls back, you know that you lost whatever game you’re playing. “Doesn’t seem like you hate me.”

“Just please fuck me,” you say, completely breathless.

“Anything you want,” he says.

You gasp when he leans forward again to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. Everything about him seems so in control. Yet, you can feel how much he wants you, too. It’s obvious that you’re not alone in wanting this and that he’s just better at controlling the situation.

Somehow, as he’s kissing you, he manages to spread your legs apart underneath him. It’s embarrassing the way you chase his lips when he pulls back. Or it would be if you didn’t meet his eyes to see all the desire reflecting back at you. He repositions so that he’s between your legs again and lines himself up at your entrance. Chan runs his tip through your folds while he watches for your reaction. It’s all you can do to stop yourself from wiggling to urge him to work faster. Nothing he does is fast, though, and why would this be any different. Slowly, he presses himself into you. Even as you’re begging him for more, he inches into you instead of snapping his hips forward.

Finally, after what seems like minutes (and is probably only seconds), he’s fully buried and it’s the best feeling in the world. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders as he adjusts his position. Then, he pulls almost all the way about before snapping back in and your mind goes blank again. Like nothing else exists apart from the two of you, the sound of his skin on yours, and the words shared between you. Praise spills from Chan’s lips as you’re just asking for more and more of him.

This time, he doesn’t bring you right to the edge only to pull you back. He picks up his pace and has you coming so hard that you see stars without warning. You’re so thankful that you don’t immediately realize that he doesn’t pull out of you. He stills himself inside you and peppers gentle kisses all over your face as you work through the orgasm.

He’s definitely not so gentle once the aftershocks work through your body.

In one motion, he has you in his arms and in a completely different position. It’s a level of strength and speed you’re not expecting. You’re sitting up now and about to protest that you don’t have the energy to fuck him like this, when he does the work for you. Even though you’re straddling his lap, he plants his feet and thrusts into you. It’s a slightly slower pace than you’re expecting. Just enough that you feel the tension building, but not enough for it to do anything. At least for you. You’re not sure about Chan.

You can’t help it. All you want to do is kiss him so that he knows how good this feels. Not that he really needs more of an indication. You think he can probably read your body pretty well. The first time with someone new is usually awkward. This has been anything but. He knows exactly what you need and just how far he can push you before it’s too much.

And that really does seem true. You’re just about to go into overstimulated territory when he changes the position again. You get the briefest of breaks for him to settle behind you. It could be as innocent as cuddling until he hikes your leg up and presses his length into you without warning.

“Chan, jesus fuck,” you cry out.

“You’re being so good for me, baby,” he coos into your ear. “Can you be good for just a little longer?”

“Yes,” you pant.

“Even if I fuck you hard?” he asks, experimentally picking up his pace.

“Yes, please, just…fuck,” you yell out as he snaps into you harder.

“So perfect,” he murmurs into your skin.

His thrusts immediately get faster and you can tell he’s ready to stop dragging it out. He’s still doing more than his share of the work and it’s insane to realize how much stamina he seems to have. The new angle allows him to hit you deeper than before. You’re already so worked up that it’s not long before he’s pushing you into your second orgasm. This time, he follows right behind you, erratically thrusting as his breath stutters by your ear.

He collapses behind you, but still holds you close against his chest. Your breathing matches his without even thinking about it. Neither one of you really needs to say anything to know that it was something completely unexpected. You can’t remember ever having better sex than with him. Leave it to Chan to ruin you for anyone else that could possibly try to come after him.

Eventually, Chan pulls himself out and off the bed. He holds out his hand to help you into the bathroom with him. You make a joke about how you don’t have another round in you and his smile is instant. His features go soft when he says he just wants to help you clean up.

(That doesn’t hold true for the next morning since he insists you should sleep over. You may be incredibly sore afterwards. You also know that you don’t care. In that moment, you think you would let Chan fuck you senseless for the rest of your life without complaining. Who cares if you’re a little sore? You’ve never felt so connected to someone in your entire life. And he just happens to be one of the gods of Olympus.)

Things seem to fall into place quickly for you and Chan after he shares his past with you. It’s like the last two puzzle pieces in an absurdly complicated puzzle. One of those ones where the pieces aren’t in the standard square shapes. Yet, now that you’re perfectly slotted together, it’s like you’ve been that way your whole lives. The two of you are together more often than you’re not. Late nights exploring or staying up until the early hours of the morning talking. Lazy mornings wrapped up in the covers of the bed (where you actually get Chan to spend more time away from the aquarium than he ever has before). Chan doesn’t even really have time to overthink anything.

His biggest win comes when you finally admit that you’re ready to leave your boring job and come to work at the aquarium full time. That only takes a few weeks after he tells you that you were a sea nymph in a former life. He’s still even a little at the complete lack of pushback on it. You accept it just as easily as you accept that he was Poseidon once upon a time. And you’re not accepting it in the way someone does to pacify a crazy person. That much is clear with how much more time you spend anywhere that Chan is. Somehow, the rest of Chan’s staff doesn’t even seem to comment on how quickly you become inseparable. Soonyoung seems to be smiling even more than usual (a feat Chan didn’t think possible). But, otherwise everyone just accepts the new normal. Everyone seems thrilled to have you around more permanently and that makes Chan’s heart constrict.

He doesn’t have time to think about any of it. Until he does, very suddenly, think about all the feelings you bring up in him.

Chan is careful with relationships. He’s friendly with his staff, but they’re not really friends (despite Soonyoung’s best efforts). He doesn’t get to know anyone at any of the places he shops or have any hobbies where he interacts with people. It can get lonely if Chan thinks too closely about it, but what is the alternative? People’s lives are finite, measurable. Chan’s is not. At least, it hasn’t been yet. There are no signs he’s slowing down over the many centuries he’s been through. Then there’s you. You who are very much human. Though, it’s been a long time since he’s come across another reincarnated Olympian. There isn’t a rule book for how those lives go and there’s never been one that Chan stuck by long enough to find out.

The real question, though, is whether he’s willing to stick around this time to see how it works. Is he willing to risk everything only to figure out that you’re merely a mortal? That you’re going to fall victim, if you’re lucky, to the curse all humans succumb to? That’s if you’re lucky enough to live to old age and something else doesn’t happen before then. Human life is so fragile. It’s a lot to process. More so since he’s not really talking to you about how he’s feeling.

You notice. Of course you notice. Chan starts to get a little more distant as weeks turn into months. He’s still physically present with you and he still tries to act like everything is fine. But, he can feel it in the shift of your moods. Doubt creeps in and he gets snippets of your feelings or even your thoughts. It isn’t fair and he knows that it’s not. He knows he has to talk to you instead of just acting like everything is normal.

“Are you ready to talk to me yet?” you ask one evening when you’re sitting on his couch with your feet in his lap.

He stops scrolling through something on his phone and looks over at you. Somehow, you always seem to know when it’s best to apply just a little pressure. Knows his moods and senses when he’s ready to talk about something. There’s no use in acting like he doesn’t know what you mean.

“It’s nothing you’ve done,” he starts and you smile.

“Oh, I know that,” you assure him. That makes him laugh. It’s you all over.

“It’s just…I don’t usually let myself get close to anyone,” he starts and your eyebrows knit in confusion.

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” you say with an attempt at a joke, though it doesn’t quite land.

“I think we both know you’re special,” he says quickly to reassure you. “It’s just…well, there’s a reason for that. Human life is so fleeting.”

“Ah, yes,” you say with a wry smile, “because you’re ancient.”

“Enough,” he chastises without any real heat.

“Sorry,” you say and throw up your arms.

“I am kind of ancient, though. Not in this body since I’m always changing forms, but in mind. I’ve been around a long time and you…” he says and trails off.

“You’re so sure I have an expiration date?” you ask.

“You’re human,” he says simply.

“And also have the soul of a reincarnated sea nymph,” you remind him. As if he could ever forget.

“I know,” he concedes. “But I don’t know what that means for your…”

“Life expectancy?” you offer. There’s something almost detached and also calming about the way you say it. “You can’t say for sure that I won’t live beyond a normal human life, either.”

“No, I can’t,” he says. “I’ve never wanted to stick around another reincarnated soul the way I can’t seem to let you out of my sight.”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s worth at least considering?” you ask.

There’s nothing desperate or emotional about the way you approach the conversation. It’s all based in fact and the information in front of you. As much as you and Chan like to go out on dates, you also like to sit with him while he tries to do research. Both of you want to understand what your soul means for the rest of your body. You want to understand why sometimes he can feel your mood or even hear some of your louder thoughts. It’s fun when you can control it and send something disruptive towards Chan. Fun for you, at least. He doesn’t always appreciate the image of what you want to do to him while he’s trying to do something at work.

So, you go through all the knowns with him again. Go over everything that you’ve learned. Go through the questions you have unanswered and where there might be more information. You talk things through logically in a way that feels familiar to him. Chan finds himself getting lost in his amazement at your brain and the way you process information. It’s also incredible to him to watch you work through a problem. It lulls him into a place that he hasn’t been in since…

And that’s when it clicks. That’s when he realizes. You’re not just a reincarnated sea nymph. No, it’s much deeper than that. He knows your soul more intimately than he knows his own. He can’t believe that he didn’t see it right away. Can’t believe he’s had you in his bed for months now without realizing.

“You’re not listening anymore,” you comment. You don’t seem upset, only curious. It’s like you want to know where his mind goes.

“No, I’m sorry,” he says and you wave it off. “It’s just, well, I figured out who you used to be.”

“Uh,” you say, clearly missing a piece. “Yeah? A reincarnated sea nymph? We’ve already covered this.”

“No,” he disagrees. That makes you raise your eyebrows. “Well, you are, but you’re also more than that. Your soul, it’s…”

“What is it, Chan?” you ask, full attention focusing on him.

“I should have known. You feel so familiar, like I’ve known you for years,” he says and it’s like he’s talking to himself. “It’s not just some ordinary sea nymph’s soul…”

“Yes, because sea nymphs are so ordinary,” you say with a scoff. “Like people every day are just coming across sea n-”

“It’s Amphitrite’s soul,” he finishes and that stops you mid sentence. Your eyes lock onto his, wide and wondering.

“Amphitrite? As in Goddess of the sea, most prominent of the sea nymphs and wife of…” she says and can’t seem to finish the sentence.

“Poseidon. The one true love of my life, yes,” he says.

If you think anything of him referring to Amphitrite as the one true love of his life, you don’t say anything. You go into a contemplative silence. Like if you think hard enough, you may be able to remember her or the relationship with Poseidon. Who knows? Maybe you can. Try as he might, Chan can’t seem to think of a single instance where something like this has happened before. Doesn’t remember someone like Hera returning in this way. He also can’t think of any reason why you would return now, after all this time. Unless this is just the first time he’s found you. There are far more questions than answers.

“This…changes things,” you say.

“Does it?” he asks.

“Doesn’t it?” you immediately return.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “It’s like it suddenly makes sense in a way I wasn’t expecting. But, it also feels…more complicated.”

“Complicated, how? I mean, you were in love with Amphitrite and I assume she, or I, was also in love with you,” you say. “Doesn’t that explain this pull we have to each other?”

“Our relationship was incredibly complicated,” he says softly. “I have…many regrets about how I handled things when it came to her. And I also can’t wrap my brain around her reappearing after so many years or what that means for you.”

“Why don’t we just start at the beginning? Tell me about your relationship,” you prompt.

“There are parts that were ugly,” he says without meeting your eye.

The couch shifts and dips as you get closer to him. You lift his chin up gently so he’s looking at you. “The fact that you can admit parts were ugly or that you have regrets shows you’ve learned. So, tell me the whole story and then we’ll go from there.”

So, he starts talking.

It starts at the beginning. He was at a celebration when he saw Amphitrite dancing among the other Nereids, the daughters of Nereus, who was also known as the Old Man of the Sea. There had been other consorts before her, but he was instantly smitten. She symbolized everything beautiful and kind about the sea. Everything that he could ever want. So, he approached her father before ever approaching her and asked for her hand. Her father was, understandably, thrilled. It seemed like there was no better match than to allow Poseidon himself to marry one of his daughters. In hindsight, that was absolutely the wrong way to go about it. She should have been given a say in her own life rather than treated like property by her father and the man who claimed to love her.

Chan talks about what he can remember of their courtship as honestly as he can. From his perspective, everything went wonderfully. After all, why shouldn’t she have been thrilled that he wanted to marry her. Once he had nothing but time to think back on what he had done, he realized that she had not seemed all that interested. It was more like she was going through the motions because she had to. He tried to include her in everything that he could so she would see what her life could be like. Maybe that had been the wrong choice. But, she was a natural when it came to hosting or offering opinions in meetings. At the time, it made him happy to see how well she settled in. Now, it just felt like she had been forced into a life she never wanted.

As the wedding itself got closer, she fled to the far reaches of the ocean. It was a dolphin scout of his that finally managed to find her. He never knew what his scout said to her that made her return. He only knew what he told the scout. They never spoke about it once she came back. She simply returned, assured him she had only been nervous about how important he was, and said she wanted to get married still. So, he also acted like nothing happened, which he knows was as wrong as he could have been. He does think that he tried to be a better partner to her after that, though he’s not sure he succeeded. When he had to make decisions between what might be best for her and what might be best for his position, he chose himself. He also chose the sea over her when he had to make those choices. It was never fair to her.

Somehow, through all of that, he did really grow to love her. He valued her beyond what he showed. He appreciated her for her unfailing kindness and her insistence when she knew she was right. He appreciated her wit and her mind. He appreciated the way that she was never afraid to tell him what she thought or to let him know when he was making the wrong decision. He appreciated that she didn’t just bend over backwards for him or fawn over him. He only realized after she was gone that he never appreciated her the way that she deserved to be appreciated. Once he lost her, he realized that he should have done anything in the world to protect her. He realized he should have given her the entire sea and made her the ruler because she was far smarter than he had realized.

You only listen intently without interrupting. In the few moments where Chan looks at you, he struggles to figure out what you’re thinking. Not that you won’t tell him. He knows you will. It’s just very daunting to speak that long without you interjecting. When he stops speaking, you’re still quiet for a moment.

“I think…Chan, I think I’m starting to remember,” you say with wide eyes.

And that’s the last thing he expects to hear. He figures you may tell him that he’s horrible for putting someone he claims to have loved through that. Or you could say that it sounds far-fetched to think she’s not just a sea nymph, but a specific nymph that he was deeply in love with. He doesn’t expect for you to look at him in wonder and say you’re remembering. That’s another unknown in this entire mess of a situation.

Before he can consider if this is something that should even be possible, your lips crash into his. There are so many emotions behind that kiss that he can’t begin to process. There’s longing and a long-forgotten love. There’s excitement about returned memories. There’s the sparks that always fly between you two. The mix of the established feelings with ones Chan never expected to feel again is startling. So, he just lets his mind wander. He lets the feeling of kissing you consume him so thoroughly that it pushes any other conversation out the window. All that exists in that moment is the two of you, however you want to define that.

The excitement of finding out a long forgotten identity wears off far quicker than you expect it to. Not that you have any frame of reference for this sort of thing. But, surely it should last longer than this. Longer than it takes for you to fall into bed with Chan again. Longer than it takes for him to worship your body as he’s done before and for him to bring you to an orgasm so good it has you screaming. Somehow, in the post-sex haze, he doesn’t realize that you’re quieter than usual. Perhaps that’s a blessing. He kisses you so softly, so sweet and tells you that he’s going to do some research. That’s fine, you insist, because you want to get back home to really get a good night’s sleep. It seems unspoken that he wants to let you process.

But…well, you’re not really sure if you’re still okay with the information. It’s like having sex this time triggered a new flood of memories. Some come across as clearly as if it was something you directly experienced. Others come through more as feelings than anything else. And it’s a lot. Overwhelming in a way that nothing else has been. It’s how you expected to react to finding out that all those myths you were so drawn to were actually real. That feels easy to accept, especially now. Remembering is something else entirely. Because remembering Amphitrite’s experiences as your own just feels complicated.

Maybe it’s wrong to think of her as a separate person if her soul lives within you. That part isn’t hard to accept, not when you can feel it. The hard part is accepting the feelings about Chan. The memory pushes back on you calling him that. Accepting is also the wrong word. The hard part is reconciling the person you’ve gotten to know with the memories that come flooding back.

Then, almost as if on cue, that whispering voice returns. It reminds you of how you felt when you first met Chan. Of the distaste you had without being able to place it. Which is true, isn’t it? You didn’t like him without any reason beyond just a feeling. The voice presses memories onto you. Things you actually experienced with Chan mixed in with scenes between Poseidon and Amphitrite. The more you see, the more it feels like your own memories. Like something that you took part in directly.

It’s putting it mildly to say that things are complicated. There is clear affection there for the person that Amphitrite got to know. Although it’s clear she did not love Poseidon from the beginning, she grew into much stronger feelings. Yet, she can’t separate those fully. She can’t say for sure that the feelings would develop on their own. Did she just love him? Or was it because she, at times, had little contact with anyone outside their palace? Though, that was largely her own choice as things went on. There were too many things to do at home to leave. And there was too much unrest.

Yes, it feels complicated. Now your own memories or the past few months mingle with decades of memories from someone else. You can’t decide if you want to push your own memories aside to make room for the returning ones or keep them side by side. Your new memories don’t really seem to fit, though. Which isn’t surprising. The person you know isn’t the same one that Amphitrite knew. He’s grown in ways that she can scarcely understand or imagine. He’s thoughtful and considerate and much more mature. That doesn’t sit perfectly with the memories. Although, you can tell that there’s a part of the lingering voice that appreciates the growth. Maybe even feels a little responsible for it. Wants to believe that she’s part of the reason he made the changes.

By the time you make it back to your apartment, your head feels like it’s going to split open. You’re no closer to any answers about what you want to do. No closer to reconciling incredibly complex feelings. No closer to the next step. That’s fine, though. All you can really do now is let yourself drift off to sleep and revisit

The morning, unfortunately, doesn’t bring answers. You’re not sure how to approach Chan other than to ask for time to process your feelings. That seems like as good a place to start as any because it’s a lot to take in. He must know that. Surely he’ll understand. Even though you seemingly accepted the news yesterday, it’s a new day today. And your brain is fighting to catch up.

You’re trying to figure out how to approach the conversation with Chan when you make your way through the apartment. A piece of paper by your front door catches your eye and you approach it. You pick up the envelope and recognize the writing on the front of it as Chan’s. There’s something so impossibly him about the gesture. Of course he would write a letter instead of…wait. A moment too late, your brain catches up. Why would Chan be writing you a letter? What changed?

Opening the letter feels close to the last thing you want to do. But, you know that you need to just open it to see what’s going on. See if anything changes.

A lot can change overnight, it seems. Chan fills the letter with apologies for things you can’t even begin to understand. He’s apologizing to you and also to Amphitrite. It seems he got to the conclusion much faster than you, which shouldn’t be surprising. He’s had centuries, apparently, to learn and to spot things others may never notice. That’s especially clear as you read through his letter, now.

Getting past the general apologies, you find more specific apologies. He’s incredibly sorry, but he’s going to be leaving for a while. He knows that it’s not fair to you, but it’s something that he’s got to do. At least he acknowledges that it should ultimately be your decision on how to proceed with the relationship. He can’t let you do that without more answers to his questions. He needs to know how it’s possible for Amphitrite’s soul to have found its way into your body. He needs to understand what that means for your own mortality. It’s selfish, he admits, so incredibly selfish, but he can’t move forward with you, even if that’s what you want, without knowing more. He can’t watch as you age and he doesn’t. Can’t grow to love you more and more only to know you have an expiration date. It’s cold, he knows, to say it that way. It’s also the way he’s going to approach it. The whole letter is filled with apologies and acknowledgements followed by buts.

Chan goes on to say that he’s going looking for his brother, Zeus. He’s the only one that might be able to help them understand what’s happening. The problem is that he hasn’t seen his brother in centuries and doesn’t entirely know how to find him, or if he’s even still surviving. He just has to trust that he’s out there somewhere, going through the same motions as Chan and chugging forward in the only way either of them know how. Somehow this tidbit is a lot to process. Accepting the existence of Poseidon was easy. Maybe that’s because of your own past. Accepting Zeus is something else entirely. Some of that stems from your own disbelief. Most seems to come from Amphitrite’s complicated feelings about her brother-in-law.

Just as you’re about to put the letter down in frustration, you see the postscript. Chan asks you to help his staff look after the aquarium until he returns. He knows that it’s not fair to ask. He knows you may even say no. Your heart tightens at the thought of the animals without Chan. Now that you know who he is, you know that they’ll miss him when he’s not around. You don’t have powers the way he does, though. And it’s his choice to just leave on a whim to chase answers for a relationship that may not even be there when he returns.

Well, two can play this game, you think. It may not be a fully rational thought. It may not even be fair. Before you can overthink it, you send a text to Soonyoung saying that you’ll be out of town for the next few weeks, at least. You just tell him that you have some things to work through and leave it at that. In the meantime, you throw things haphazardly into a suitcase and you’re out the door before even getting a response.

Your letter from Chan stays sitting on your table as you rush out of the apartment without a second thought. All you know is that you’re going to let Amphitrite guide you on a journey of your own to find missing memories before you make any more decisions.

It seems like both of you have a lot to figure out before you see each other next.

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eskumii · 11 months ago

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❝ TROPHY WIFE ❞ — yandere!uzui tengen/wives + you're his first wife

SYNOPSIS: suppose you're uzui tengen's very first wife, the one that slipped through the cracks of your unwanted arranged marriage with him. along with your disappearance went his heart, and now you must bear the consequences of a man who loves his wife far beyond her understanding—so much so that he would kill for her, die for her, and do anything to make her stay. — navi.

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

NOTES: mdni! (cw: non-con) this is an arranged/forced marriage au. it's meant to be one-sided. it took me quite literally forever to finish this lol ,,

PAIRING: yandere!uzui tengen x wife!reader

CHARACTERS: uzui tengen (19-23), reader (18-22), suma (19), makio (20), hinatsuru (21)

I. TO BE WED

imagine being uzui tengen's very first wife.

your hand in marriage was promised to him by your parents, who owned a tax-collecting business that was often the target of hostility from the impoverished people of your hometown. tengen routinely passed through your village on demon slayer business, so your parents could always rest assured knowing he would take care of the violent stragglers that sometimes loitered outside.

ironically being poor themselves, they had little to offer the hashira as payment for his noble duties; well, that "little" didn't exclude you of course, their only daughter who's failed to find a husband far past the age of when other girls were normally wed. you're still young, fertile, and moderately attractive, but your strong disinterest in potential suitors often drove any chances of a wealthy marriage away.

however, after being introduced to tengen, the man you'll be forced to marry out of obligation, you begin to regret being so stubborn after all.

admittedly, tengen found you to be pretty plain at first. you're poor so you can't exactly dress flashy, and you come from a no-name family with little legacy. your parents swore up and down on your domestic efficiency—hardworking, great cook, a tame disposition—and, well, at least you're kind of cute, too. tengen is intrigued by your potential the most.

your parents force you to do whatever you can to get close to him. the truth is, though, you don't really have to do anything with the way he seeks you out himself. he often shows up at your door asking for you, and your parents have no qualms about dragging you out of your room to make you go out with him.

he takes you to the nicer parts of town and pays for dinner or buys you flowers and little trinkets from the shop vendors that line the streets. it doesn't help that the elderly people running the stands egg you on, saying things like "what a lovely young couple" or "your children would be so beautiful!" tengen simply smiles with ease, accepting their praise as if it's second nature. you get rather embarrassed by his shameless indulgence.

there's small talk but you find it incredibly stifling. tengen does a majority of the dialoguing but most of the time your dates get interrupted by his kasugai crow, who squawks at him whenever a demon shows up nearby. he always looks annoyed and promises to make it up to you, leaning down to pat your head like you're his pet dog or something. you hate it and him too, probably.

"i'll be back before you know it, darling," his smile is charming but not to you. "you'll stay right here for me, won't you?"

regardless of your somewhat obvious hesitance to accept his advances, tengen gets attached to you like it was meant to be. the idea of having a pretty little housewife for him to come home to after his draining missions becomes increasingly attractive, and the more time he spends with you, the more he sees the appeal of your being. it must be a miracle that no man has taken you as his wife yet; surely you were saving yourself for a man like him.

unfortunately, though, you don't want to marry tengen.

an arranged marriage? it's simply not the kind of life you envision for yourself. you aren't willing to bet the rest of your days on a man whom you have a slim chance of falling in love with, all for the sake of financial security. but what else can you do? your parents already made it very clear they would disown you if you refuse, and tengen is pressuring you to your death with his sweet words and annoyingly thoughtful presents. you're stuck.

eventually, the incessant nagging from your parents and weeks of endless courting from tengen sway you so sooner. you fold like a cheap hand fan and succumb to your fate, to a future you knew from the very beginning that you would come to despise.

he's the only suitor you have at this point. it's not like you have a choice. and the one choice you do have just so happens to be him, a man who is the nearest thing to a perfect match as you're ever gonna get. you should be happy. thankful. he'll give you the world if you just give him a chance.

at least, that's what he told you.

II. THE SOUND HASHIRA

your parents are so happy to send you off.

they're completely honored that their letdown of an only daughter is finally getting married—to a well-known and wealthy shinobi at that. it's the only time they've shown any pride in you, yet it really only leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

after your brief introduction to the head of tengen's clan, everything moves so quickly. just a couple weeks later, you're already signing a marriage contract in which you and tengen become official newlyweds. and before you know it, you're packing what little belongings you have to your name and moving in with him, begrudgingly and regretfully so.

the day you arrive, he shows you around his overwhelmingly gigantic residence; the courtyard full of cherry blossoms and koi ponds, the huge kitchen, and the bedroom where he'll eventually fully claim you. there's lots of other rooms too, but they're either empty or reserved for his weapons and training gear. he tries to hide it but he's obviously so over the moon that you're his wife now. he doesn't even notice your misery through his elated delusion of love.

in hindsight, you didn't realize how difficult it can be to share a space with someone you hardly know. you find everything awkward but tengen doesn't, like always. to him, you're so obedient and polite— such a good girl. you take whatever he gives you; kisses, hugs, subtle gropes here and there, and all of his sweet compliments and gifts. you don't argue with him or raise your voice, you fret over his injuries and make his favorite foods. you're observant, collected, and mature.

he didn't have a type before he met you—you're all he can ask for in a woman, really.

tengen is unexpectedly romantic. he constantly boasts about his strength and fighting skills in order to impress you, and he never stops mouthing off about how he'll prioritize you over himself. he puts consistent effort in getting to know you: what you like, don't like, your favorite color, and any other inkling of your personality that he can manage to wrestle out of you. he seems to have gotten the impression that you're shy or something.

flowers are a constant and you're spoiled with fancy, expensive kimonos and jewelry. had you married tengen under literally any other circumstance, you'd find his advances on you endearing but, unfortunately, he just comes off as clingy and unbearable. any woman would die to be in your place yet you can't even find it in you to want to be in your own place.

what do you think of him, though? well, he's handsome, you'll give him that. you don't deny the appeal of his good looks and flashy, fitted clothing. he's strong, established, and knows what he wants. despite your obvious distaste towards his gifts and grandiose personality, it's not to say you're ungrateful that the man you're stuck with is exceedingly well-off and capable of protecting you. you can't say he's a bad guy.

however, he's a moron.

he fell for you fast. a couple months have already passed since coming to live in his residence. tengen requests to have picnics whenever you go with him to visit his siblings' graves on his off days. of course you have no reason to refuse; as much as you dislike him, you're not heartless. they're important days, so you swallow your pride and pack a bento spread you know he'll like.

tengen will confide in you about the memories of his late siblings, his parents, and his life before becoming a hashira. it's a depressing and heavy weight to shoulder, but you still play your role of the loving, supportive wife with your lingering touches and comforting words. you use these outings as opportunities to gain his trust by being vulnerable.

except, this time, the effect you seem to have on tengen is magnified to the point of no return.

he pulls you into his lap and you're suddenly flush against his rock hard chest, trapped in a suffocating hug. you don't know what prompted his sudden affection; perhaps it was the warm atmosphere you crafted or the intimacy of the moment, but the way tengen holds you so close is telling. he's about to say something you've been dreading since the day you met him.

"i love you." tengen confesses, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing as if he'd just released the weight of the world off of his shoulders.

you knew it. it's the first time he's ever said it to you and you'll never forget the wave of nausea that hit you as you glanced up to see him staring back at you expectantly. your heart is pumping out of your chest and your face is flustered—not because you're flattered but because you're ashamed. you feel his hands squeeze your shoulders, almost like a warning, and his grip begins to feel claustrophobic after your prolonged silence.

you have no choice but to reciprocate.

"...I love you too." your voice is quiet, hesitant, and tengen gently teases you about being shy when you refuse to look at him anymore. he's not right but it's true that lying invokes shame.

he almost seems overwhelmed by your response, as if he hadn't just nonverbally threatened it out of you. you don't dare to sneak even a glance at him. he tightens his embrace around you and goes back to burying his face abashedly into your neck, mumbling sweet words against your skin. his body wraps around you like a vice, trapping you in the prison that is his dreadful existence.

you decide, in that very moment, that there was nothing in the world you wanted to do more than run away.

III. A DIRE MISTAKE

one fateful day, you catch wind of the news that tengen is being assigned on a mission quite far away, somewhere down in the southwest.

you're so lucked out that you thought it was a trap at first—a ploy to catch you in your undying desire to leave your husband for good. but when the day of departure arrives and tengen peppers your face with last minute kisses, you know for sure that there's no chance he's caught on to your resentment towards him, nor the plan of escape you've been devising all along.

your eyes are teary when tengen releases you from the last of his spine-crushing hugs and he cooes at your cute crying face. honestly, you're tearing up out of joy because your one and only chance to escape has literally fallen into your lap in a pleated handbasket, but you'll let him believe otherwise. you at least owe him the courtesy.

you already know you don't stand a chance against tengen, at least physically. he can overpower you like nothing and he's so tall that he towers over you, constantly caging you between those muscled arms of his. there's almost nothing you could do against a man like him—well, unless you count poisoning, but you were above murder when it came to getting what you wanted.

as soon as tengen passes through the looming gates of the residence and disappears down the winding road, you scramble to gather a few belongings before making your way out through the back. there's a twinge of fear that grips your gut but you press on, determined to put as much space between you and that wretched place you were expected to call home.

the moment you escaped, you flipped your identity. chopped your hair off, powdered your face in white make-up, and wore headscarves wherever you went. you fled as far as your feet would take you, only stopping to rest in a small village when your aching body could take you no further. you hardly spoke to anyone and left nothing behind that could possibly be traced back to you or be used to pursue you.

it's obvious you can't go back to your parents; they hated you when you lived with them, and they'd hate you more if you returned. they'd sell you out to tengen in two seconds flat, then ruthlessly shame you for running away from a marriage you wanted no part in. the only option left for you is to create a new life for yourself somewhere far, far away.

and that's exactly what you do. you find a little town on the outskirts of the red light district, where business is booming and it's easy to disguise yourself beneath the constant foot traffic. you go undercover as a seamstress, working in a homely tailor shop under the supervision of the owners, who are a kind older couple that are quick to regard of you as one of their own.

time marches on and the jarring memories of tengen do as well. you makes friends with the regulars that come by the store often. you've learned the valuable trade of mending clothing and sewing traditional patterns. you've even developed a crush on one of the men that come by often to repair his work uniform.

your life is finally the way you've always wanted it to be.

meanwhile, tengen copes—barely. days pass. weeks. months. you're still yet to be found, even with the help of all the hashira and the shinobi of his clan. it's as if you disappeared off the face of the planet. he's completely devastated. did you run away because he was gone for so long? were you feeling neglected? did you just want his attention? surely you wouldn't just up and leave when he'd been so loving; he truly couldn't think of anything that would prompt such an extreme reaction.

as expected, he doesn't come up with a justification for your disappearance. how could he? you could be dead by now with the amount of demon uprisings that have been happening lately. or you could even be halfway across the world right now, laughing at how easily you had fooled him. eventually, his sadness melts into anger. you may be gone now, but it won't be for long.

wherever you are, he'll find you.

IV. 'TIL DEATH DO HIM PART

in the following years, tengen's next three wives are chosen specifically by the head of his clan.

and, in the head of the clan's words: "the sound hashira's decision-making must be incredibly poor if he chose a wife who would dare flee from him." the statement only fans the flames of his growing wrath for you.

however, his new wives—suma, makio, and hinatsuru—are all beautiful and talented kunoichi who admire him to their very cores. as ungrateful as it sounds, there isn't a day where tengen wishes one of them were you. they've worked so hard to try and fill the gaping hole in his existence that was left by you, but it hasn't really been working. he needs you.

they're kind, caring, nurturing and most of all, strong. they've trained all their lives to be kunoichi. he knows he shouldn't complain but they just don't cook like you, look like you... aren't you. of course he loves them, but he could never forget the way his heart shattered the day he returned home to find you nowhere in sight. your disappearance left him in utter shambles. did you ever think about that when you left? you're so unbelievably selfish—is that the kind of woman you turned out to be?

his wives constantly question his lovesick behavior. tengen never hides anything from them; in fact, he'll sometimes go on long, borderline maniacal rambles about "the wife who got away." to suma, makio, and hinatsuru, you're an enigma that's broken the heart of their husband, and they're not sure what it was about you that makes him act this way. jealousy sparks—if there's a way to get you back to make tengen happy, they would do it, but maybe you're better off gone after all.

and it's not like tengen didn't search for you. oh no, he looked everywhere within reason. his duties as a hashira kept him chained to his missions near the demon slayers' headquarters, but that never stopped him from interrogating people when he got the chance. any woman that looked even remotely similar to you was sure to be stopped in the middle of the street for further investigation.

master kagaya is exceedingly understanding of the situation, and he bears obvious concern for his beloved sound hashira. while he's sympathetic of the loss of his wife—it's no matter to be taken lightly, of course—tengen must first be loyal to his occupation as a hashira, and that means going on missions in spite of his mourning.

and his newest missions leads him to the red light district.

so tengen goes. he knows his place when it comes to master kagaya, so he has no reason or authority to deny orders. regardless, it's a harrowing and tedious task. drunk concubines practically throw themselves into tengen's arms as he strolls past the many underground sex clubs that line the filthy streets. he has zero interest in any of the debauchery that goes on here, and he especially feels nothing when shoving them away from him with excessive force.

he scours the area for anyplace that looks decent enough to step foot in, as well as a place where he won't get immediately harassed by ran through harlots. turning down a quieter side street where some storefronts have been shuttered, he happens upon a small seamstress shop sandwiched between two restaurants that look as if they've closed early for the evening.

shrugging, tengen wearily thinks it's as good of a place as any to begin his intel gathering on the upper moons' whereabouts. he saunters towards the front entrance and a young woman dressed in traditional geisha wear passes him on the sparsely populated road, her wooden sandals clacking against the ground. he can't help but think her hair looked similar to yours and his heart twists painfully in his chest.

tengen seems to be constantly haunted by the thought of you, forming an obsession in his mind that won't go away until he has you back. until he knows your safe, with him, just like you were meant to be. until he sees you.

no, literally, tengen sees you, right in front of him.

through the window of the upscale seamstress shop, he sees you conversing with a man at the front counter, laughing heartily at a joke he must have made. tengen quickly crouches beneath the display window to spy on you, his heart pounding out of his chest at the events that are currently unfolding. he must be mistaken.

he peeks above the lip of the window to catch a glance and, sure enough, it is you. you're alive and well, almost glowing beneath the low, intimate lighting inside the shop.

he finally found you! he can't believe it. the grin that's stretching across his face is so broad. he'd recognize your face anywhere, even if it's caked in geisha makeup and your hair elaborately styled. you’re beautiful and he’s captivated by your beauty just as he was the day that he met you.

he's so unbelievably ecstatic with the way his hands are clamming up, his feet shuffling in the dirt and...

what?

creeping over the ledge of the display window once again, tengen's eyes immediately grow dark. there's a man there. talking to you. his wife.

in the midst of your conversation, your eyes absently float over to the window. it's there that your gaze clashes with his, and a blood-curdling look of terror overtakes your features. is that… tengen?

there's a shift in the air. what happens next, tengen doesn't recall, but when he comes to there's blood on his hands and your hair is bundled up in his fist as he drags you past the threshold the of the shop’s entrance. he looks over his shoulder and on the floor, spread eagle, lies the man without his head. the scene is gruesome.

he killed him.

tengen looks down at you with a solemn gaze. for some reason, he doesn't even care. the emotions running through him are almost too much to bear. do you know how much your disappearance has destroyed him? do you know how much he's suffered because of you? do you even care?

he doesn't understand why you're crying. it seems like you were happy enough to whore around with other men in his absence. the thought drives him to the brink of insanity. how much longer do you plan on humiliating him?

there's too much to be said. tengen's mouth is agape and he's so upset at you that he can't find the right words to express himself. instead, he collapses to the floor beside you and embraces you in his longing arms. he smells your hair and feels how your body shrinks against his—it's all exactly how it used to be. it's exactly as he remembered, as he dreamed of.

and now, as tengen scoops you up into his arms to take you back home, another dream of his will be fulfilled tonight. he knows exactly what kind of punishment is befit for you.

V. A JUST PUNISHMENT — (NSFW: NON-CON)

"tengen-sama! you're ba-"

a woman with colored bangs and a ponytail attempts to greet tengen as he enters, but she's cut off by not only the expression on his face but also the strange, disheveled woman he's hauling behind him.

he drags you across the cold, laminated wood floors into the bedroom by your hair and peels the delicate, silken layers of your yukata back, exposing soft flesh and ample curves. tengen is so starved of your touch—of your voice, your scent, you. he'll make you pay for what you put him through. he'll make you stay this time.

you can't even fight back. you're so afraid of what's going to happen that your body refuses to move, to speak. and even if you could, there was no way you would win against a hashira, of all people.

tengen starts by pushing you to your knees. when his hands begin the hasty work of undoing the belt of his kimono, you already know where this is going and it makes your stomach churn in volatile sickness. he eagerly slides his under pants down and from the top of its elastic band springs his semi-hard cock, which nearly hits you in the face. you gasp at the sheer size of it; that is not gonna fit inside of you.

"don't look at me like that, [name]. clearly i was too lenient with you back then. i should've disciplined you..." he trails off as he stares into your pleading eyes. he smiles but, in it, is no mercy.

"c'mon, baby. you'll be a good girl and open your mouth for me, won't you?"

you refuse. no, you wouldn't even dream of it. you've never done anything sexual with a man before and you certainly aren't going to wi—

tengen suddenly reaches down and grabs ahold of your now tangled hair with one of his large hands. it takes barely any pressure before your mouth is pried open by the force of his fingers alone, and his now engorged cock head is being stuffed into your warm, unyielding mouth.

you can only let out a choked cry at the vile intrusion.

"that's it, baby, good girl.." he praises, stroking your head with his thumb as he slowly inches his pulsing cock down your throat.

your screams are completely muffled. tengen begins to pick up the pace, letting your drool be the lubricant that allows his giant dick to slide in and out of your tight throat. it hurts so bad that you try to bite down and free yourself from this act of vulgarity, but tengen doesn't allow it. he instead tugs your head back by the grip he has on your hair, forces his cock all the way in, and holds you there until you decide to behave yourself.

you can hardly breath. lewd, wet noises fill the room as tengen gags you almost to the point of unconsciousness. the vibrations from your screaming must have been making him feel good, though, because it takes just a few minutes before he's shuddering in orgasm as he bottoms out and cums, which you have no choice but to swallow.

he pulls out of your mouth and you're mortified, but even more so when you see how he's still hard. his cock is covered in a thick layer of your saliva and his cum drips onto your exposed chest in globs that make you cringe in disgust. you think you're going to throw up.

and you almost do, if it weren't for tengen picking you up from under your arms and tossing you onto the plush bedding. your legs are forced open and tengen slides his twitching cock against your pussy, slowly and teasingly. you begin to fight against him but he easily pins you down long enough to push his fat cock head into your tight pussy.

tengen pounds you into the plush cushion of the futon all night long. you've given up struggling and crying, only mewling in pain as the brutish man stretches your virgin pussy wide. he ruthlessly kneads your breasts with his calloused palms and overstimulates your clit with his fingers until you cream and squirt repeatedly all over his dick. you can do nothing but lay there as he roughly moves your body into various positions and fills your womb with his seed—there's no way you won't be pregnant after this.

all the pent up rage that tengen was forced to weather after your disappearance is released in that very room. he sounds like a crazy man with the way he lapses in and out of fits of rage where he's cursing at you with his hands around your throat, then slipping into pleasure induced "i love you's" as he dumps yet another load of cum deep inside of you.

"h-how does it feel, my love?" he groans, reaching over to caress your flushed face. "mm, you sound so cute making those noises. lemme hear you scream, darling."

and oh, you sure do scream. for him to stop, to get off of you. that you've had enough. that you hate him. over and over again you scream, you cry, and you struggle, but it does you no good. he only seems to thrust faster the more you beg. is he getting off to your desperation? he must be by the way his cock pulses at any form of physical resistance from you.

you thought it would never end. he's almost insatiable. your tears have long dried up—for the most part, anyway—but the skin on your face feels raw from tengen "lovingly" wiping all your tears and snot away while simultaneously pounding a you-shaped hole into the futon. you feel disgusting. you don't even have the strength to make a sound when he spanks you for the hundredth time, moaning heatedly about how you've been such a bad, bad girl.

when it seems like he's finally spent, he doesn't pull out. instead, he collapses on top of you with his cock still twitching inside your sloppy, ruined cunt while drawing you in for an unreciprocated kiss. he whispers praises in your ear and gently strokes your face, cooing at how much you're trembling against his much larger form.

"i should've done this a long time ago. maybe you wouldn't have left if i dumped my kids into you sooner."

eventually, his softened cock slips out of you and a gush of warmth runs down your legs; you can already feel a soreness settling in your pelvis. tengen sighs contentedly at the sopping squelch that sounds when you snap your legs shut in order to roll as far away from him as possible. he roughly wraps a muscled arm around your waist and pulls you back towards him as soon as he sees your attempt to create distance.

"i missed you so much, darling," tengen mumbles against your skin breathily, offering a soft smile. "did you enjoy your welcome back?"

he's making fun of you. you refuse to even look at him. it's to be expected, really, he can't imagine how bad it must feel to think you actually got away from him as you lay in his arms once again, right where you belong. you need to learn your place; no wife of his will disrespect him like you did ever again. if you have to be an example of that, then so be it—youput this on yourself, after all.

leaving you with a final kiss, he gets up, wraps a towel around his waist, and goes to let his other wives into the room to help clean you up (they've been waiting patiently ever since you showed up, curious about the woman who supposedly "stole tengen's heart," as he put it). you're still naked and exposed with tengen's cum leaking down your thighs but you don't even have the mental capacity to care anymore. all three of the girls look shocked at the state you're in, but they don't comment and rush to get you in the bath.

they're all very pretty, of course. when you emerge from your haze of disorientation, you're left reeling at the fact that tengen had amassed three whole wives in light of your absence. well, not that you have any right to be surprised considering your short lived emotional affair. you're still in mourning over what had happened to him.

regardless of your fragile state, the three women swarm you with questions that prod at your past: who you are, where you're from, and how you met tengen. you don't even have half the mind to reply. you can only stare at your tear-stricken reflection in the soapy water, ready to burst into tears yet again at the horrible predicament you've found yourself in.

what can you do now? sit around and get bred by tengen? rot away in this dreadful house for the rest of your life? the other wives seem to catch onto your unresponsiveness after a couple dozen of their questions go ignored, so they sit quietly and gently wash you clean. they look genuinely worried for you—not that their pity will undo the damage that's already been done.

makio will scrub your back and grumble about how jealous she is while suma and hinatsuru fret over the small bruises that are now beginning to form around your hips from tengen's manhandling. suma washes your hair next, commenting on how beautiful it is, while the other two move onto rinsing the soap from your body. they wrap you up in a fluffy towel when it's over, and a shiver wracks your spine when their hands guide you to another room, down the hall, with a clean bed ready for you to rest in.

you don't really know who they are but since they're dressed like kunoichi, it's obvious that they don't share the same mindset you do, or were forced to be wed to tengen like you were. you can't ask them to help you escape from this hell, not a chance.

even as you lay in the criminally comfortable futon with new silken pajamas, a cup of cold water at your side, and a warm blanket, sleep doesn't find you.

and with tengen around, you're certain it never will.

VI. A HAPPY EVER AFTER (EXTRA)

a few months later, your pregnancy symptoms are in full swing.

tengen is as protective as ever and the other wives have already grown attached to you despite your bitter and unforgiving attitude towards them. you learn quickly that they're all very... obsessive, constantly hovering over you and going to overbearing extremes to make sure you don't do anything that would physically strain yourself in any way.

hinatsuru and makio follow at your heels like guard dogs while suma takes charge of most of the cooking and cleaning. she keeps the peace most of the time and holds makio back when she's attempting to murder hinatsuru over something childish. you're never in the mood to talk to them, however, and they often try to bribe you with your favorite sweets (which is intel that they've gathered from tengen) in order to get you to participate in their activities.

unluckily for you, tengen had decided to completely retire from being a hashira following a particularily harrowing encounter with an upper moon demon (even after you tried to subtly guilt trip him into not doing so). he insisted that you and the baby were "more important." you know that it'd be difficult to escape with the other wives around but to add tengen on top of that makes it surely impossible.

every morning, the dreadful man himself meets the four of you in the kitchen and will beam proudly at the sight of his adorable little harem. he goes down the line and gives affection to each of his wives individually, in the way they prefer, and saves you for last as you're his "greatest prize," or whatever he said. you're just completely exhausted and you resent them all from the deepest depths of your heart. the least you can do is make it obvious.

tengen finds your rebellion adorable. everything about you is and even moreso now than when you left him all those years ago. he'll grab you by the jaw and force you into a quick one-sided kiss, pulling away with that fond smile of his. his fingers ghost over your swelling tummy but his very touch makes you feel so awfully sick. you'll roughly push him away and he's so out of his mind that he attributes your justified anger and moodiness to your "pregnancy hormones." regardless, he's happy. it's you who's going to bear his child. it's you who first said you loved him too. as long as you live, you're bound to him as his wife. nothing can come between a man and the woman he loves; uzui tengen certainly made sure of that, didn't he?

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere tengen x reader #yandere uzui tengen #yandere kny #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #yandere demon slayer x reader #yandere male #uzui tengen

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m-ilkiee · 4 months ago

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Anything for you, Fushiguro-kun - Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [summary] handsome blue eyes, honeyed praises and putting your needs above his, megumi seems like the perfect guy to lose your virginity to. that is, if everything he did wasn't for his selfish gain.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [pairing] aged up! fushiguro megumi x fem! reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [warning] no-curse au, dark content, aged up fushiguro megumi, smut, angst, manipulation, gaslighting, coercion, dubcon, fingering (f.recieving), piv sex, unprotected sex, virginity loss, creampie, corruption kink, praise kink, use of pet names (baby, good girl), mention of pregnancy and oral. everyone in this fic is above 20+

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [r- 18+] not suitable for 17 or younger

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [wc]: 2.9k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [author's notes]: i adore writing depraved megumi. please reblog, or say something nice and if you like this fic, I have an upcoming megumi fic called E-boys Ruined my Life, so please check that out and if you’re interested, apply to my taglist ♡ okay, back to the story

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [masterlist] [taglist] [main]

MEGUMI almost feels bad for you.

From the first day he met you, you've always been a good person. You're the type of person that genuinely cares about the well-being of people around you. You're considerate, kind and you never hold any grudges.

You're the kind of person that makes him sick to his stomach.

Megumi doesn't consider himself a good person. Sometimes he's nice to his friends and cordial to strangers, but that's it. He's not like you that would go out of your way to make anyone comfortable and certainly hates your style of putting others first before yourself, especially when it's detrimental.

Or at least he did. He doesn't hate it when you do it for him though.

"Megumi- i- can't … I've -mmh ahh- never done this before -ah ah-"

It wasn't his fault you were tempting. It was hard for him to stay focused when you're just so cute and pliant, being a sweetheart, a ray of sunshine. He wasn't one to care if someone was attractive or had big tits, but there's just something so appealing about you that he can't resist.

Your purity.

Ever since you mentioned you've never touched or kissed anyone, Megumi has never been the same around you. Something inside him shifted. It started with subtle touches on your arm and shoulders and then with each time you let him, he gets bolder; touching your back and moving lower, accidentally grabbing your tits or ass, roaming eyes whether you come over to his room like the naïve princess you were. He should feel like a piece of shit the way it's always you he fantasizes about whenever he jerks his cock to orgasm.

Unfortunately, he's not you and he's not going to feel guilty about it. Not like you would mind it, even, with all the cute sounds you make when anyone hits on you.

Your words are feeble in comparison to the loud moans he's pulling out of you with each thrust of his fingers in your cunt. It wasn't hard to get you on your back and legs spread out just for him to play with you.

Your breath hitches in your throat when he pressed a wet kiss on your neck, still fingering you deep and hard. "I'll be very gentle (name)." he curls his finger deep inside your cunt and you instantly arch your back, scrunching up the sheets underneath your fists. "Just gotta stretch that tight hole of yours real nice. Okay?"

A loud 'ah please' escapes your lips as he curls and twists his fingers into your g-spot faster and your face contorts into a perfect O as he fingers you.

You're a panting mess underneath him and the sight has him practically drooling. Your legs are trembling on either side of his waist, as if they can't take any of his ministrations anymore. His fingers make quick work of getting you closer and closer to your orgasm and Megumi leans closer to your ear to guide you through it. "Feels good, doesn't it? That tension in your belly?"

He smirks when you nod hazily, your words unable to convey the new feelings you're experiencing right now. It only grows wider when Megumi strokes your g-spot to orgasm, to the point your hands are buried into his sheets and your thighs are violently shuddering while you scream "Megumi oh god '' loud enough to wake up his entire apartment. "Ah, please please-"

"Good girl. Keep cumming."

Music to his ears.

He pulls his fingers out of your poor, abused cunt, the drool of your clear cum connecting your still pulsating pussy to his long digits. Megumi pops the two fingers in his mouth, the tangy taste of your fluids assaulting his taste buds. He supposes this is what satisfaction tastes like - strong and pleasant- but if Megumi just wanted to taste your juices, he would have eaten you out instead.

That could wait, his cock is aching in his boxers

He has your back pressed on his sheets as he hovers on top of you, greedy eyes taking in the sight of your fucked out face and cups your chin with his unsoiled hand. "Won't you thank me baby? Gimme a kiss."

You're so obedient, puckering up as he slots his lips on yours. The kiss is messy, your tongue entangling in his and your soft hands digging through his thick dark hair while his hand squeezes your cheeks. Megumi kisses you until you're fucking breathless, letting you pull away as you pant for air before kissing you again, teeth knocking against each other desperately.

"Need to- fuck" he murmurs between kisses as you fall deeper and deeper into submission. "-fuck- I've got fuck that tight pussy of yours right now. Raw." You don't even get to protest when he adds. "Just need to fuck you raw baby. I'll get you the morning after. I swear."

"Bu-but I could get pregnant-"

"(Name), baby, please. It'll feel better to cum in you for your first time. I won't let you down. You trust me don'tcha?"

"But-"

One thing about you is that you're so easily convinced to go against everything you stand for. Megumi knows you're much too fucked out to understand the kind of risk he' about to put you through. It's selfish how he's hellbent on raw dogging you, something he hasn't ever done before and yet something about being first man that would not only dive into that pussy of yours, but also cum inside it sounds so appealing to him.

And looking at the way you're chewing your lips nervously, you just need a little nudge to agree.

"I'll wear a condom next time, baby. I promise, you'll enjoy it."

"O-okay."

Bingo. "Good girl."

He's much in a rush to roll down his boxers -practically soaked with pre- letting his pale pink erect cock spring up and slap his abdomen lightly. Your reaction was priceless, eyes almost bulging out of your sockets as he hovered above you again, stroking his cock with one hand and placing the other one just above your head. "Eyes on me." He demanded, and you complied, tearing your fearful gaze from his angry red tip moving closer to your entrance, to his face.

You're so pretty, the way your eyes are fixated on him trying not to think of the pain before the pleasure. Feeling a twinge of pity, he pressed a kiss on your cheek to ease up your nerves. "I'll be gentle. I promise." He whispers and you nod, keeping your thighs far apart no matter how bad you want to clamp them shut. Megumi rubs his lengthy dick between your wet folds, his tip teasing your poor, neglected clit before positioning himself towards your entrance.

Maybe it was sleazy for him to coax you into doing this. If Megumi was truly a good friend, he would pull away and leave, you've done nothing to deserve him using you like this after all. You came here to study and he's taken advantage of that.

"It's going to sting a little, (name). But I'll talk you through it. Just follow the sound of my voice, okay?"

Who was he kidding? Remorse was not something Megumi cared about, especially when it's him getting what he wants -you completely surrendering yourself to him and him tainting every inch of you until you're a filthy mess.

THE blood curdling scream you let out is absolutely gut wrenching to anyone with a conscience. There's a part of Megumi that feels bad for you going through such agonizing pain of his cock splitting your poor cunt apart. Hell, tears are rolling down your cheeks and your fingers are buried in his sheets, trying to distract yourself from the pain.

"Ssh, it's okay." He coos, stroking your cheeks to soothe your pain, wiping your face with his thumbs. You're already shaking and crying, tears rolling down your trembling face, but you hang onto every word he says and lean into his touch. "It'll feel better soon, keep your eyes on me, breathe and relax."

You nod and take deep breaths between sobs, focusing on just him continuously comforting you. Megumi has never lied to you before and he won't start now. You just need to follow his instruction, so you let yourself ignore the searing pain of accommodating his entire length in one go and relax for him. All for him.

You'd do anything for Fushiguro Megumi.

The pain fades slowly but surely and the feeling of fullness for the first time is utterly delightful. The stretch hurt less and the need for him to just start moving was growing. "Megumi, please-"

He leans to your lips and cuts you short with another deep kiss, making you melt in his arms. God, it took everything in Megumi to not go crazy with how you were throbbing around his cock, because as much as he wanted this for himself, a little part of him wanted to take care of you too. Pulling away from the kiss, Megumi raises your legs to dive deeper into your cunt, making you jolt in response.

"I know, baby. I know."

His first thrust was slow, letting the feeling of pleasure wash over him as he let out a grunt. If he knew you were going to feel this good wrapped around his cock, he would have tried to seduce you a long time ago. He starts jerking his hips into you, increasing his pace with each thrust until he finds a steady rhythm that has the both of you moaning for each other.

Megumi is enraptured by the way sweat rolls down your breast, his eyes never never leaving your scrunched up face as he fucks into you. Your hands are now on his back and your nails are painfully scratching on him with each drag of his long cock inside your velvety walls.

"Ah, Megumi… s'good… your cock…"

Your words are a jumbled up mess in your head as you let Megumi fuck you deep and hard. He looks so handsome above you, his well formed abdomen glistening with sweat and slick from your wet pussy, dark blue eyes hooded with nothing short of lust, staring down at you. His dark, spiky hair stuck to his forehead, his biceps flexing every time he connects the two of you together.

Back when you first met him, those dark blue eyes always seemed to scare you because it made him look so unapproachable. Now, they're a siren call and you can't stop staring into them.

"Fuck, your pussy's takin' me too well." he whimpers into your ears, his breaths coming out in quick pants. You feel your pussy throb in response. "Gonna make me fucking lose my mind, shit."

The sound of skin slapping skin as he thrusts into you is sinful, loud and echoing through your ears. His dick is so deep inside you, far better than his fingers and he's fucking into you with such precision that has you gasping for more. You don't think this can get any better than what he's giving you right now-

"AH, WAIT, WAIT-"

Megumi has your legs practically folded to your chest and he's angled his thrusts to your g-spot, now increasing his pace until all you can hear is the headboard practically hitting the wall with his powerful thrusts. Your body is suddenly jerking against your command as the tip of his dick practically slams into your g-spot repeatedly. Your legs are twitching, your nails are drawing blood from his back and you're sure everyone can hear a shrill voice screaming "Megumi!" over and over again.

It's music to his ears.

Megumi can't help but smirk at the way you're out of control. Your pussy is throbbing around his cock like crazy as he pistons into you and you're a mess underneath him, his main goal from the start. "Yeah, keep clamping around my cock baby, just like that." He groans into your ears between thrusts, letting your moans fuel his lust. "And touch that clit of yours like I taught yoy, hmm?"

You comply despite being a shaking mess from his incessant pounding, removing your trembling hand from his back and moving them to your clit. Your breathing is harsh as you rub your clit to his thrusts; the pleasure is intense, too intense for you. "Megumi, 's too much-"

"You can take it (name). Rub your clit."

He's greedy. He wants to see you convulse and soak his bed. He wants you to cum so hard you would be embarrassed for days, weeks even thinking about how you ruined his sheets permanently. It's like an ego trip for him, watching your fucked out self do what he wants for his pleasure.

And like the person you are, you do as commanded.

The scent of sex practically saturated the air of his room. You rub at your clit wildly, your back pressed against the sheets as he pounds into your g-spot. The coil in your belly is even more intense than your previous ones, wounding so tightly it makes you feel like you're going to burst. He doesn't let up in his pounding and you don't stop touching yourself for him, enjoying his lustful gaze as you both work together to bring yourselves to orgasm.

"You're close aren't you?" He curses underneath his breath, your cunt is sucking him tightly and he can feel his dick practically twitch inside you. His breath tickles against your skin, earning a shiver of pleasure from you. "You're gonna be good and cum with me?"

"Yes, yes…" you're screaming now, you're too close, too close to snapping and you don't care if anyone has heard you scream at this point. The whole buildimg probably knows you're fucking him at this point, something you'll deal with later. "anything for you Megumi!"

Your orgasm comes first in torrents, racking your body with violent shudders as your pussy twitches against his cock, liquid soaking his entire abdomen and the sheets beneath you. The sight of you cumming has him following suit soon after, his entire body seizing up as he pumps you full of his hot semen, jerking his hips to ride out the intense ecstasy you both feel until he's spent. Megumi slumps onto you weakly, hazy eyes peeking at your tired form through his long lashes before resting on his elbows to kiss you gently on your forehead.

"That felt great."

You're barely conscious when his lips leave your forehead, the intensity of your orgasm practically knocking you out. You stare back at him and he knows you're unsure of what to say as he dragged himself out of you and climbed off the bed to get a bath started.

Megumi had taken your virginity. It was a thing that just happened and he doesn't regret anything he did. Maybe post nut clarity is taking its time to hit him, but he doesn't care that he had just slept with you. He doesn't care he manipulated you to get his high or that he's sick for deriving pleasure watching you lose your virginity to him.

All that matters is that he wants to do more things to you again and he will.

Once he was sure the shower was hot enough, he walked back to the bed. You were sitting up now, your eyes glued onto the floor with his phone in your hands. He popped up a brow on seeing hot tears roll down your cheeks when you finally sighted him, clearly confused at your reaction.

"You… you planned this."

Oh great, you looked through his phone while he was gone and saw the notification of the period tracker with your name written all over it.

No use denying.

"You shouldn't look through other people's phones. That's bad."

He dodges the phone thrown in his direction easily and it clatters onto the wall instead. Ah well, he'll get a new one when you're done with your tantrum. "You sick bastard! You monitored my fucking cycle, just so that you could have sex with me?"

Megumi doesn't know why he doesn't feel any guilt despite you being in tears. You were a sweet girl who had just been used and it's not like you did anything to him to deserve it. Ignoring you, he got two towels from his drawer and walked back to where you sat, dropping one on your lap. "You should pee, then join me in the shower." He's so casual about everything, mindlessly wrapping a towel around his waist and it genuinely terrifies you. "Do you need help to stand?"

"Megumi, I trusted you. How could you-"

You don't complete your sentence when he pins you flat on your back, his body hovering above you. Your words get caught up in your throat as you gaze at his unreadable expression, dark blue eyes glaring down on you. "How could I ?" He breathes against your skin and you feel your legs twitch against your better judgment. "I could because I wanted you to myself."

You want to turn your head away from Megumi but he curls his long fingers around your chin and jerks it to face him. "Don't look away now (name) and don't pretend you hated what we did. You enjoyed every moment of it as much as I did."

"But you-"

Your breath becomes shaky when he pulls down his towel, now feeling your skin on his as he leans down until your lips almost touch. "But what? I didn't drug you. I didn't force myself on you (name). I never once lied to you."

You don't resist when he lowers his lips to your neck, now kissing you gently, letting him trail his lips onto your jaw. He murmurs into your skin at your compliance, clearly pleased he had proven his point. Just as he was greedy to have a taste of you, you were willing to give him all of yourself until there's nothing else left to give.

"If you wanted a round two, you could have just asked."

As usual, you gave in to him again. Too easy.

special thanks to: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @getonite @reiners-milkbiddies @gh0stgirl333 @megumisdivinedogs @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @iluv-ace @lovely-maryj @slvdsjjk @bunniejeansz @kalerah02 @maraya-007 @littlemisspropaganda @cherie026 @Sycomantis666 @thisismarisaaa (bolded cannot be tagged)

divider by- @/cafekitsune

#megumi smut #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader smut #fushiguro megumi x reader smut #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro megumi smut #megumi x female reader #megumi x reader smut #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk fushiguro #aged up characters #fushiguro smut

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flamingtouya · 11 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐩 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞) —

pairing: dabi + f!reader

word count: 4381

cw: getting to know each other (against your better intuition), flirting, bad flirting,some explicit language but nothing too bad, no quirk AU, dabi commits a crime or two

summary: In which Dabi meant to text Toga instead of a random stranger. But these things happen, and you were never one to shy away from troublesome men. This whole thing is told entirely through text messages.

a/n: check out my AO3 for different formatting! :)

Mar 02 10:07 PM

Unknown: Grab bleach while you’re out Unknown: And paper towels

You: who is this??

Unknown: So funny

You: u got the wrong number my guy

Unknown: Shit Unknown: You don’t happen to have some bleach at your disposal rn?

You: try the convenience store You: where’s the body at, anyways

Unknown: Ohara street by the fitness park, you should come check it out

You: sounds enticing You: i’ve always wanted to be on a true crime podcast

You: sort of expected myself to be the alive one though

Unknown: I was taught that women tend to be smart about stranger danger and stuff Unknown: You're out to prove me wrong

You: how’d you know i’m a woman? 🤨

Unknown: U sound cute Unknown: And men don’t listen to true crime

You: that’s so sexist You: and correct You: you'd do numbers on reddit

Mar 03 00:16 AM

You: hey don’t leave now

Mar 03 00:34 AM

Unknown: Had a body to take care of

You: you didn’t wait for me? :(

Unknown: … Unknown: Are u fr

You: ofc not You: i don’t hang out with edgelords

Unknown: Whatever u r probably boring anyways

You: entertaining enough for u to keep texting me

Unknown: We all have our moments of weakness

Mar 03 01:09 AM

Unknown: So wyd

You: you don’t have anybody else to bother?

Unknown: I do Unknown: I want to bother you tho

You: damn, what’d i do to deserve this

Unknown: Is that a complaint

You: i have uni tomorrow and ur buzzing keeps waking me up

Unknown: Mute your phone, stupid

You: can’t mute unknown numbers

Unknown: Save this one then Unknown: Or block me idc

You: what name should i put it under

Unknown: Dabi

You: lmao i knew you were an edgelord

Dabi: Stfu

You: good night to you too

Mar 03 07:58 AM

You: fuck

Mar 03 3:56 PM

Dabi: Did you miss me that bad

Mar 03 4:32 PM

You: i overslept and am blaming you entirely

Mar 03 5:19 PM

Dabi: Sucks to be a useful member to society

You: why what do you do

Dabi: I'm actually a bit of a part-time freelancer, you regular uni folk just wouldn't get it

You: freelancing around ohara at 1 in the morning sounds like the truly fulfilling purpose we all long for You: did you just get up

Dabi: Hey now Dabi: Yes Dabi: I’m still in bed technically, looking at the ceiling fan is so interesting when I don't want to move a muscle

You: you are everything I am jealous of

Dabi: I promise you it’s not that good

You: first time a guy’s been honest right away. i applaud u

Dabi: Omg no way

Mar 03 5:40 PM

You: no way what

Dabi: No way you said something witty

Dabi: Maybe you’re fun after all

You: i’ll have u know that deep down, i’m just a fragile being trying to make it thru this bitch of a world, running on fumes and caffeine all while chasing a childhood dream that i'll never be able to reach anyways because of my parents' expectations of me crushing my soul

Dabi: Damn, being vulnerable already

You: your turn

Dabi: I’m not sad. My life is great and my parents never expected anything of me

Dabi: That was a lie

You: so you’re a liar

Dabi: I suppose I might be

You: that counts as being vulnerable. i’m so proud of us. <3

Mar 03 9:12 PM

You: you probably have daddy issues

Mar 03 11:34 PM

Dabi: Mind your business

You: so i’m right

Dabi: Nosy sounds more like it

You: that’s a yes then

Dabi: When I tell you he SUCKS so bad

You: LMAO You: i’m guessing you don’t particularly like your family then

Dabi: It's not the type of stuff I'd tell anybody, especially not to some nosy individual whose number is one or two digits off

You: alright i’ll stop digging You: wait how old are you You: am i talking to some 50 y/o dude You: please no

Mar 04 00:02 AM

Dabi: Chill I’m 48

Mar 04 00:06 AM

You: say sike right now You: if u rly are then i’m half your age

Dabi: You thought Dabi: Are you actually 24 tho

You: give or take a few days lol

Dabi: When’s your birthday

You: do you want my social and tax numbers while we’re at it

Dabi: Stfu I wanna see if I’m older

You: 🤨 You: it’s at the end of this month

Dabi: Baby

You: are u flirting with me or insulting me

Dabi: Can’t I be doing both

Mar 04 06:30 AM

You: love me a guy who can multitask You: did you ever get your bleach and paper towels

Mar 04 11:11 AM

You: it’s 11:11 make a wish

Mar 04 2:02 PM

You: my wish is that you’d commit to a humane sleeping schedule

Mar 04 2:59 PM

Dabi: Anybody hear sum

You: i heard you’re a lazy bitch You: who doesn’t even do his own grocery shopping

Dabi: Maybe I do. Maybe I got the bleach all on my own like a big boy

You: X

Dabi: What's that mean

You: X for doubt You: it’s a meme

Dabi: Here I thought we were about to get spicy 😔

You: ew

Dabi: I was joking Dabi: …unless

You: has anybody ever told you that your flirting is immaculate

Mar 04 7:10 PM

Dabi: What do you study

You: are you trying to find out my location

Dabi: Let it be known I’m terrible at geography and if I wanted to stalk you I'd already be on it

You: that’s a consolation You: forensic science You: i actually can’t wait for the semester to be over bc my professor is one of the most annoying individuals i have ever had the displeasure of meeting

Dabi: So you do have bleach

You: never said i didn’t

Dabi: What do I have to do to make the list of annoying individuals. What's my current score

You: we haven’t met You: and i’m not sure if i’d survive u

Dabi: You have a point, I'm super nice tho

You: bet You: are you handsome You: asking for a friend You: the handsome ones are usually more annoying

Dabi: I'll say I’m frighteningly unique-looking

You: ...well played

Mar 04 10:09 PM

Dabi: My boss is making me do errand work in the morning like I'm some kind of functioning human being with principles Dabi: The next piercing I’m getting is a lobotomy

You: thought you were “freelancing”

Dabi: Freelancing only gets you so far. You'll understand when you're my age

You: can't imagine what the back pain must be like You: do you have a tongue piercing 👀

Dabi: Perhaps I do

You: u r so mysterious You: tell me an opinion

Dabi: Mint ice cream makes my teeth feel weird

You: that’s not an opinion

Dabi: Alright, more foods should have mint in them. And coriander. I want to make things inedible for 80% of the human population

You: nvm keep your opinions to yourself

Mar 05 02:26 AM

Dabi: I've gotta burn this number. Txt u in a few

Mar 05 05:16 AM

You: what are you, some kind of druglord This message could not be delivered.

You: I knew it This message could not be delivered.

Mar 0512:03 PM

You: ayo are you still there This message could not be delivered.

You: this is only funny if you come clean right now This message could not be delivered.

Mar 05 4:16 PM

You: "text you in a few" minutes? hours? days? This message could not be delivered.

You: just know that if it takes to long i'll forget about u This message could not be delivered.

You: won't even miss u This message could not be delivered.

Mar 06 09:00 AM

You: hello is this thing on This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 3:15 PM

You: my social security number is 6007 0023 6799 0324 This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 8:46 PM

You: eggs, vinegar, panko, sprite, sliced ham, parmesan, deodorant sencha if they have the good one ground pepper, lemon juice This message could not be delivered.

Mar 08 04:44 AM

Unknown: Am I still the man of ur dreams

You: I'm killing you You: violently

Unknown: I was hoping softly Unknown: With your song

You: are these messages being monitored You: am i a suspect

Unknown: If they were, could I write that I'm a ruthless baby killer anti-government fuck the police pro abortion the prime minister is an idiot bomb. bomb at the airport, terrorism, detonate Unknown: I guess now they are

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: just when i thought i'd have to find another witty asshole with a tongue piercing

Dabi: Aw you missed me Dabi: Does my tongue piercing make me hot be honest

You: what are my chances of getting an explanation for the past few days You: are u a murderer fr, that would be so cool You: i totally didn't use our abandoned chat as a grocery list btw

Dabi: The only thing I slay is pussy 😎

You: somehow i have doubts about that statement You: animal abuse is no joke

Dabi: I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 100, if you guess it correctly I'll tell u everything

You: 69

Mar 08 08:21 AM

Dabi: It was 72 Dabi: Because you were so close I'll give u one free question. But I want another one in return

You: you're a dirty little gremlin who plays dirty little games You:: do i get to ask a follow-up question

Dabi: No

You: in that case You: which of the following activities did you partake in? 1.) vandalism 2.) drug dealing 3.) drug trafficking 4.) violent crimes 5.) violent crimes that resulted in the death of one or more individuals 6.) assisting someone in a violent crime 7.) assisting someone in a non-violent crime 8.) theft 9.) robbery 10.) hate crimes against a minority 11.) politically motivated acts of defiance 12.) consumption of illegal substances 13.) running and/or hiding from law enforcement 14.) domestic terrorism 15.) human trafficking 16.) money laundering 17.) having a good time

Dabi: What the fuck Dabi: What is this, a multiple choice? Dabi: 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 13 Dabi: My turn Dabi: What's your favourite food

You: fr, just like that You: that's your one question out of everything you could ask? am i really that boring

Dabi: I ask what I ask

You: spicy miso ramen with minced pork You: can we go back to the part where you ran from law enforcement

Dabi: Don't we all have demons that we run from Dabi: Mine are just a bit more persistent

Mar 08 10:52 AM

You: i want another question

Dabi: If you come up with one that's not related to the past few days, go ahead

You: fine i'll take it You: have you ever been caught and gotten in legal trouble for one of your… dubious activities

Dabi: Yeah

You: …and?

Dabi: That's another question. Gonna trade?

You: fine

Dabi: When I was 16, two Officers Of The Law 🐷 caught me dumpster diving behind a 7/11 Dabi: The dumpster diving wasn't the crime but because it was on private property they charged me with trespassing

You: damn, that's a lot of truth from u in just two sentences You: i wanna know ur tragic backstory so bad

Dabi: You could try to get me all sentimental for the 6 minutes after really good sex before the post nut clarity sets in

You: uh huh, taking notes You: anyway. you get one question. think hard

Dabi: If you couldn't have minced pork on your ramen, what would your second topping choice be

You: you're impossible

Mar 08 1:27 PM

You: tori karaage or extra ni-tamago i guess

Mar 08 2:23 PM

Dabi: Doesn't the Karaage lose its crispiness if it's in the broth for too long Dabi: I wouldn't know

You: please let me recommend you a good ramen place, you seem like you'd need it

Dabi: You have no idea. Take me out

You: like romantically? or are you asking me to murder you

Dabi: I love surprises

You: i just laughed out loud in the middle of my lecture

Mar 08 7:18 PM

Dabi: Need your forensic expertise for a sec

You: …oh no

Dabi: It's a purely hypothetical scenario

You: alright lay it on me big boy

Dabi: If a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person were to climb over a 4,60 meter high fence that has electrical wiring on it Dabi: What would the most likely way for them to die be?

You: this is not forensic at all You: how strong is the electricity You: is there a way to shut it off You: where would you hold onto the fence You: can it be damaged

Dabi: Not me, a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person

You: where would THE 176 CM TALL AND 67 KG HEAVY PERSON HOLD ONTO THE FENCE

Dabi: The only points that provide decent grip surface are the hooks holding the wires in place

You: so the most likely way to die would be electrocution You: will that be all

Dabi: How would one determine whether the electricity has been properly shut off Dabi: In the theoretical scenario that you couldn't get close enough to hear

You: the 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person should tap the wiring from the bottom with the back of their hand You: that way their fingers curl downwards and not around the wire You: so the person won't DIE from ELECTROCUTION

Mar 09 00:08 AM

Dabi: Excellent Dabi: Gonna do some field research Dabi: Will report back in maybe a day

Mar 09 08:01 AM

You: i'm gonna be so mad if you die before you've had decent karaage This message could not be delivered.

Mar 11 6:10 PM

Unknown: So it turns out that the person did not have to climb the fence after all. Pliers are such useful tools Unknown: Thanks for the electricity tip tho

Mar 11 6:39 PM

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: you're so hot when you're alive

Mar 11 9:14 PM

Dabi: Do u think I'm a catch 😏

You: judging by the way law enforcement is trying to get their hands on you, i'd say you're pretty slippery

Dabi: The slipperiest Dabi: You couldn't handle me

You: i'd trap you using cheese and a paper box You: put you in a jar and turn you into spicy miso broth

Dabi: Would you hold the jar tight at night and tell me everything's going to be okay

You: of course

Dabi: I'm liking this scenario

Mar 12 01:07 AM

Dabi: Ever thought about what Mint Karaage would taste like

Mar 12 01:23 AM

You: i need u

Dabi: Tell me more

You: to shut your mouth

Dabi: Are you trying to romance me

Mar 12 07:15 AM

You: i'm actually so upset right now You: can i vent

Mar 12 07:27 AM

Dabi: Listening Dabi: Am I gonna have to get the tissues out

You: you're not empathetic enough for that

Dabi: How would you know

You: call it a woman's intuition You: i just need someone to bother about my hot girl troubles

Dabi: Let's hear it girl Dabi: Men ain't shit 💅

You: damn right they aren't You: but unrelated to that You: i ran out of my medication a few days ago and thought if i stretched the remaining 3 pills to last me 6 days i'd be able to make it till the end of the week You: now my doctor's office is closed and i can't seem to get an appointment anywhere You: and i'm super jittery and on edge and almost had a panic attack just trying to make coffee

Dabi: What type of medication

You: Ativan You: it's prescription only

Dabi: Nothing is ever "prescription only"

You: i'm not gonna try some experimential backalley drug You: just feel like dying rn

Dabi: Who said anything about backalley? You actually came to the right guy for this Dabi: What's the name of the nearest druggery

You: ...fukuju pharmacy

Dabi: So I've been talking to a Setagaya girl

You: only moved here for uni, hate to disappoint if ur expecting a wealthy maiden

Mar 12 10:02 AM

Dabi: Don't you feel like getting a snack from the vending machine Dabi: Specifically the one next to the pharmacy Dabi: A bag of skittles sounds nice, doesn't it?

You: ? ? ?

Mar 12 10:34 AM

You: did you commit a crime for me You: how did you get your hands on actual fucking Ativan this fast

Dabi: I don't kiss and tell

You: did you follow me home You: is this how i die

Dabi: You make it so hard to be nice to you Dabi: What do you think I am, a creep

You: if you were here i'd suck you off so good rn

Dabi: Whore Dabi: (Respectfully)

You: lmao ur right You: thank you for real though

Dabi: Stfu

Mar 12 1:33 PM

Dabi: Do u like cats

You: yes

Dabi sent an image.

Dabi: Noodle thieving menace

You: 🥹 You: that has got to be the fattest street cat i’ve ever seen

Dabi: He’s hella fast

You: how does it feel to be the one chasing the culprit for once

Dabi: Not nearly as thrilling as being the one committing the crime

Mar 13 00:00 AM

Unknown: Congratulations! You have been selected as an eligible member for a free trial of Osaka Daily Post. Unknown: If you would like information about your benefits, reply 'BENEFIT' Unknown: If you would like to stop receiving these messages, reply 'STOP'

You: i know it's you shithead

Unknown: Your message could not be processed.

You: this is the unfunniest you've ever been ngl

Unknown: Your message could not be processed.

You: you're truly one of the most annoying individuals in my life

Unknown: Your message could not be processed.

You: STOP

Unknown: LMAO you thought

Dabi was saved as a contact.

You: i'm reconsidering if the tongue piercing is really worth it 😤

Mar 13 04:55 AM

Dabi: Any particular reason why you chose forensics

Mar 13 06:09 AM

You: i've always admired criminals but been to scared to become one You: and if i know about psychotic assholes it might help me to steer clear of them, or so i thought

Dabi: Is it working

You: evidently not

Dabi: Use me in ur thesis Dabi: I'll be your lab rat

You: nah you're more beneficial to me when you're not stuck behind bars You: what do you have me saved as in your phone

Dabi: I don't save contacts Dabi: Especially not yours Dabi: You mean nothing to me

You: aww do you know my number by heart, that's adorable You: i'm kinda genuinely impressed at how persistent you are at bothering me, it's almost like you like me or smth

Dabi: No fr though lmao if anybody finds my phone you'd be on a list

You: do u delete these chats

Dabi: Always

You: that's so romantic You: admit it you're actually a softie

Dabi: Would that make you more interested in me Dabi: Then I'm the softest

You: what do i need to do to make you the hardest

Dabi: ... Dabi: There's absolutely no correct way for me to respond to that Dabi: You've left me speechless

You: 🥵🥵

Dabi: What's your worst quality Dabi: Besides being an irresistible smartass Dabi: *irritating

You: was that a freudian slip You: you're so obsessed with me it's adorable

Dabi: Proving my point so diligently

You: you don't seem like the kind of person who would use words like 'diligently' You: i'm rather talkative at times You: to the point where it gets unbearable to listen to me

Dabi: I never would've guessed

You: what's yours? You: besides the obvious

Dabi: Still putting up with you

Mar 13 7:45 PM

Dabi: Wyd

You: i burned my rice a little You: but it's edible

Dabi: Don't you have a rice cooker? Who raised you

You: my very strict but sweet and committed grandmother who made the best teriyaki salmon in the whole world You: i'd kill another human being to eat her home cooked food one more time

Dabi: So your parents ain't shit either

You: eh, they're alright You: they're Business People overseas and aren't around a whole lot, means i get my own place though You: so i can have visitors at any desired hour 😏

Dabi: Omg sick Dabi: Me next

You: it was implied

Mar 13 11:11 PM

Dabi: Ok but do u actually wanna meet up sometime Dabi: No strings attached ofc

You: i'm down

Dabi: What if I'm a creep after all

You: if anything, it means i won't have to attend my lecture about carbon dots tmrw

Dabi: I can't tomorrow Dabi: What about the day after Dabi: I'll give u my credit card info if it makes you feel more safe, don't bother trying to buy anything with it tho, you'll be disappointed

You: you may not show it a whole lot, but are you actually a considerate person? You: the day after sounds good

Dabi: Preem

You: oreryu shio ramen, right by harajuku station You: about time you had some good karaage You: my treat You: unless that's too far away for u

Dabi: I would fly across the world for u Dabi: Yes Harajuku works fine

Mar 14 08:49 AM

You: how will i recognise u You: what do u look like

Dabi: As my dad once said. I'm impossible to miss

You: i laughed

Dabi: Guess it was all worth it then Dabi: Do tattoos scare you

You: i was gonna ask cause there's no way you got only a tongue piercing and nothing else You: stand there with your tongue out

Dabi: Shouldn't we at least get to know each other before 😳

You: don't get any ideas You: i don't intend to fuck u You: ...for now

Dabi: That's a relief, I thought I might have to file a restraining order afterwards

Mar 14 1:42 PM

Dabi sent an image.

Dabi: If u see this guy u can still run the other way

You: hhh fuck You: are u trying to intimidate me You: how do you have so many tattoos but no bedframe

Dabi: Cut me some slack, I just moved into this place

You: fair warning i'm not as hot as u

Dabi: Bet

You sent an image.

Dabi: Why do women always lie. I thought you were better. I thought you were different

You: 😳 You: i'm actually worse

Dabi: We're such a good match

You: don't get ahead of urself. u r still a guy with no bedframe

Dabi: Please shut up

Mar 14 4:16 PM

Dabi: To be clear I'm not bringing flowers or anything Dabi: And I'm actually willing to let you pay this time lol

You: you have such a unique way with words

Dabi: A bit tight on money rn but I'll pay u back some other way

You: can we make that the first line in our sextape You: dw i said it's my treat and i mean it You: does that make you feel emasculated

Dabi: Who would I be to say no to free food tf Dabi: If there's a next time I can take you out for drinks Dabi: Nothing fancy but an old friend of mine owns a bar downtown and his girlfriend mixes a killer mule

You: if you're gonna poison me after gaining my trust over my favourite food i will be incredibly sad

Dabi: Give me some credit here. I'm trusting u to not rat me out to law enforcement

You: you're giving me ideas You: is there a bounty on your head

Dabi: I'm not that important

Mar 14 9:44 PM

You: so you're just too good to get caught

Dabi: Both flattering and factually correct Dabi: For the record I've never harmed anybody that didn't deserve it

You: thanks for clarifying You: i feel so safe now

Dabi: Anytime Dabi: If you're having second thoughts lmk before 10 am so I won't spend time getting ready for nothing

You: 10 am is crazy You: u r so vain

Dabi: Alright then I won't 😔

You: i take it back You: be pretty for me

Mar 15 5:30 AM

You: can't sleep

Mar 15 7:12 AM

Dabi: How the turntables Dabi: Are you alright

You: yes You: it's the good kind of sleepless

Dabi: It's fine if you're having second thoughts, I won't hold it against you at all Dabi: Just texting like this is nice too

You: fuck no i wanna meet the man behind the screen You: the myth, the legend, the crimelord himself

Dabi: I'm never showing consideration for ur wellbeing ever again

You: should've ghosted me before i got attached

Mar 15 9:54 AM

Dabi: Last chance to bail gracefully

You: you make it so tempting

Dabi: Getting out of bed then

You: it's not a bed if it doesn't have a bedframe

Dabi: Shut, and I mean this in the gentlest way possible, the hell your mouth

Mar 15 12:08 PM

Dabi sent a location pin.

Dabi: Is this the place

You: that's the one You: be there in a few minutes

Dabi: I'm waiting outside

Mar 15 12:13 PM

You: omg i think i see u You: im shy

Dabi: U literally have so much blackmail material on me

You: give me a second You: alright I'm coming over This message could not be delivered.

#dabi #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #touya c reader #todoroki touca #bnha #dabi x you #touya x you #bnha x reader #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki toya x reader #league of villains #league of villains x reader #bnha x you #i hate that there are so many tags #my writing #(sort of?)#this was honestly super fun :>#x

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wintrwinchestr · 5 months ago

Text

strangers | part 2

summary: nearly a month has passed since you agreed to go to california with joel, and you think you might love him. you trust him, and he makes you feel cared for and safe, but he hasn't been telling you the whole truth. eventually, you make a shocking discovery that makes him feel like a stranger to you all over again.

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, DDDNE (graphic descriptions of blood, murder, and of captive/dead girls, non-con p-in-v sex (i'll say rape just in case but reader does not explicitly express non-consent), being held captive, degrading language toward victims/victim blaming, joel is implied to fantasize that you're dead while fucking you, kind of stockholm syndrome), non-con breathplay/choking, mommy & daddy issues, lying, gaslighting, coercion, manipulation, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart, babydoll, etc), no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 8.1k

a/n: this is the second part. if the tags deter you from reading that's okay, just pretend joel and reader made it to california and they lived happily ever after. i understand i've written something dark and heavy and it isn't for everyone, you are welcome on my blog whether it's for you or not as long as everyone is respectful of each other <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 3 (coming soon)

As the breeze begins to carry a chill that bites without the protection of a jacket or one of Joel’s flannels, the two of you have been spending the last month or so trying to outrun Autumn altogether as you make your way to California. You’ve crossed more state lines now than you ever could’ve imagined you would, and you and Joel have even made a game out of trying to spot the license plate of the farthest state away from wherever you are. He was impressed when you had recently managed to spot an Alaska plate in fucking Kansas, of all places.

You spend your days visiting cheesy tourist traps and collecting cheap souvenirs from their gift shops, and your nights in motels or in his truck or in goddamn gas station bathrooms tangled up in each other’s bodies, unable to keep your hands off each other. The seal had finally broken just a few days after you had agreed to go to California with him, when he had laid his hand on your knee while he was driving, and you didn’t stop him from sliding it higher and higher, his fingers eventually making their way between your thighs and gently rubbing your clit through your shorts. Joel would’ve been content to play with your pussy just like that, pinching at your little nub and dipping his fingers into your drooling hole as he drove, but the noises you were making were driving him fucking insane. He had pulled off into a wooded area and instructed you to climb into the backseat, where he had shoved himself inside of you for the first time and fucked you until you saw stars. You never made it to wherever it was you were headed to that afternoon, deciding instead to just call it a day and spend the rest of it covered in each other’s sweat and come and breathing heavily into each other’s necks.

You’ve seen new parts of Joel in other ways, too, in the time that you’ve been traveling with him. He’s been opening up to you, slowly but surely, as the weeks go on. You did eventually remember to ask him about that song you couldn’t quite make out at Moody’s, humming the bit of the chorus you could remember for him in hopes that he’d recognize it.

“I think I know the one, darlin’. Should have it on cassette somewhere here, ‘s called Alone and Forsaken, think it’s by Hank Williams. Hadn’t heard that one in a while, ‘s a winner, though,” he’d said.

You’d rifled through the contents of the glove box and pulled it out, excitedly swapping the tape with the one in the player and pressing the button on the dash to start the song. Joel’s fingers had begun to tap against the wheel immediately, and he seemed to relax at the sound of the guitar’s steady strumming. You had just watched him as the song played, admiring the subtle movements of the muscles in his face as he’d hummed along.

But he’d noticed your staring, after a while, and teased, “Y’know, really shouldn’t look at a man like that, babydoll. Might give ‘im some ideas.”

Babydoll. That was new, too. It had become his new favorite pet name for you, bestowed upon you when he had offered you another dress to wear from the stash of clothing belonging to Tommy’s daughter that he keeps under his backseat. Joel had told you eventually that he’d fibbed about his relationship with Tommy, just a little bit, and that he hasn’t actually seen him or his kid in quite some time. “Just kinda grew apart after a while, stopped keepin’ up with each other,” Joel had explained. “Jus’ never quite got around to gettin’ rid of all that stuff, I guess.”

You certainly didn’t mind having something new to wear, especially something as pretty as the little pink dress that got you your new name. Joel had looked at you hungrily when you’d first tried it on, raking his eyes up and down your form as you twirled for him.

“So pretty, sweetheart. Look just like a lil’ babydoll in that, don’t you?” Joel had complimented.

You’d giggled at the nickname, becoming shy as he’d stalked towards you and used a hooked finger to lift up your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his own. “Like that one, do ya? Like bein’ my babydoll, all mine?”

You’d sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, your brows peaked with need as your eyes had begun to glaze over from his gentle dominance. It had never taken much from him to make you start feeling a little floaty, even early on, ready to fall into his arms so he could make you gush onto his fingers or his cock or his tongue.

You’d nodded your head all syrupy and slow, making a little whimpering sound in affirmation.

“Say it,” he’d whispered, the hand propping up your chin slowly finding its way down to your neck, where it always seemed to land in your moments of intimacy. Joel had never really asked you if you liked it there or not, if you liked it when he squeezed your throat just right until your vision became spotty and your breath came out pinched and raspy, but you had learned to like it, to crave that guidance and control from him. He’d never taken it too far, just brought you teetering over the edge of unconsciousness, then allowed you to fill your lungs with air again.

“I like it, Joel, like being yours…”

“Yeah… ‘n you’re gonna be mine forever, huh? Never gonna leave my side, always gonna belong to me, ain’t that right?” His grip on your windpipe had begun to tighten as he questioned you.

“Forever… ‘m yours, Joel…” you’d promised through a hoarse whisper.

A growl had rumbled from deep in Joel’s chest at your choked words, and he’d quickly let go of your throat to spin you around and shove you face-first into the creaking motel mattress, flipping up the skirt of your little babydoll dress and showing you just how pretty he thought you looked in it. “Mine, mine, mine,” he’d chanted as he caged you in with his heavy form, slamming inside of your aching cunt until you cried out, shuddering around him as he spilled inside of you.

He calls you babydoll almost exclusively now, like it’s your actual name. Your everyday clothing consists almost entirely of frilly dresses and tiny tops and tight shorts from the supply in Joel’s truck, with maybe a few items he picks out for you at the occasional Goodwill mixed in. He’s made it so that you never have to think for yourself ever again, taking care of everything for you from picking out your outfits to ordering for you at the diners. All you have to worry about is being good, being his, his perfect little doll, and he says that you deserve a life as easy as this, that it’s the least he can do for you in exchange for your company, for being so good for him.

Joel does allow you to use your brain for some things, still, like bombarding him with the questions you’d begun stashing away in your mind all those weeks ago. Some of them he still answers vaguely, like where the scar on his nose came from, or if he’d been married before, or what his life was like before he met you. But sometimes you can get a story out of him, and it always feels like you’ve won the lottery when you’re able to get him talking. After the Hank Williams cassette had finished playing that day, you’d decided to ask him what he’d wanted to be when he grew up.

He’d thought about it for a second, and then laughed at himself. “‘F I tell you, I don’t wanna hear any gigglin’ outta you over there, ‘s that clear?”

“I can’t promise you that if I don’t know what you’re gonna tell me. If you say, like, a rodeo clown or something, I’m gonna laugh.”

Joel had just glared at you, and you’d rolled your eyes.

“Fine, I won’t laugh, I promise. Just tell me.”

“Alright…” Joel had sighed. “I wanted to be a singer, actually. Believe it or not.”

You had almost started crying right then, the visual of a little Joel all those years ago wanting to grow up and become a singer being almost too much to bear.

“Awe, Joel… You can sing? Can you—”

“No, I ain’t gonna sing for you. Don’t even ask, babydoll.”

Joel had seemed adamant about that at the time, but just a few days later when a violent thunderstorm was blowing through the town you’d stopped in for the night, you’d woken him up when you couldn’t fall asleep, and asked him in a trembling voice if he would sing for you. He’d just grunted and rolled back over at first, but you’d kept quietly begging him, and he eventually gave in to your little frightened sounding pleas. You’d rested your head against his chest as he stroked your hair and sang Alone and Forsaken for you a few times over, until the soothing sound of his voice and the quiet thumping of his heartbeat had lulled you back to sleep. The thunder had eventually retreated when it realized you weren’t scared of it anymore, now feeling safe and protected in Joel’s arms.

He could only take so much more questioning from you after a while, though, until he decided it was about time for you to reveal more of yourself to him, and you’d thought that was fair. You’d spent a whole afternoon in the truck one day telling him about how your dad had passed away when you were still in high school, and how you’d always wished he could’ve seen you walk across the stage at graduation and go off to college. How he was the one who’d even encouraged you to go in the first place, when you hadn’t felt smart enough or good enough at anything to ever find the pursuit worthwhile. But he’d always been supportive of your artistic endeavors, the ones your mom had always called ‘useless’ and ‘a waste of time’ and ‘nothing that could ever amount to a real job’. Your dad had tried his best to make you believe otherwise, always proudly displaying your work around the house when your mother would allow it, and even framing some of it for his office. It was devastating when he had passed, but at least you felt you could make him proud in some way, by deciding to pursue a degree in art at the nearby state school. But then your mother had ruined your chances of ever finishing the program, and, well… here you are now.

After you’d finished your story, Joel had comforted you just like he always did, promising to find you a sketchbook and some pencils at the next town you came across so you could keep nurturing your talents. He’d made good on his word, and now your time on the road is often spent sketching Joel, his cassettes, the mountains, anything you see that sparks inspiration and demands to be committed to paper.

Today, the two of you are on your way to see the world’s largest something or other in New Mexico, and you’ve become determined to etch a drawing onto every page of your book by the time you reach California. You’ve sketched just about everything in the truck at this point, and different tries at capturing Joel’s handsome side profile already take up more than half of the pages that you’ve filled out so far. You begin scouring the cabin of the truck, searching for something new you can draw. You eventually try bending forward to look under the bench seat, just in case you can find a crumpled up candy wrapper or something, but an even more interesting object catches your eye, tucked just behind Joel’s legs. It looks like an old shoebox, maybe containing some more tapes or things belonging to Tommy’s kid. You try to reach over to Joel’s side of the bench seat to grab it, and he almost swerves the truck off the road when he notices what you’re doing.

“What’re you…? Don’t touch that, babydoll, jus’ leave it alone,” he scolds.

You sit up straight again, taken aback by his tone. “Why? I was just looking for something new to draw, thought there might be something in there.”

“It’s just junk in there, baby, nothin’ you’d much be interested in,” Joel says, his grip on the steering wheel becoming more white-knuckled.

“So? I can’t draw some old junk?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Joel sighs in frustration. “‘Cause I said so, babydoll, Christ. Just leave it be, I’ll throw it out next time we stop. Find somethin’ else to draw.”

“Okay… ‘M sorry,” you respond timidly.

“‘S alright, sweet girl. ‘M sorry too, shouldn’ta yelled at you like that. Just… tryin’ to drive here, don’t want you reachin’ behind my legs and shit, ain’t safe.”

You just nod, popping open the glove compartment for the hundredth time in hopes that there could be something in there that you’d missed before. There isn’t, so you decide to pluck out that Hank Williams tape and sketch it again, humming the song to yourself in an attempt at self-soothing as you begin to outline the shape of it. It seems like a bad time to ask Joel to sing it for you again, but if you’re good for the rest of the day and make up for your earlier mistake, maybe you could hear it again tonight.

—

You’re just finishing up your sketch a half hour or so later, when Joel decides it’s time to stop for gas. You glance over at the fuel gauge on the dash, and it looks like the truck still has half a tank left, but you decide not to say anything about it. Just like he’d said when you had first reached for the shoebox, Joel swipes it from underneath the seat as he exits the truck, tossing it haphazardly into the trash can by the gas pump.

“Dammit,” you hear him curse to himself, and you look out the window to see him staring angrily at the empty pocket inside of his wallet where cash should be. Joel opens up the passenger side door to explain, “Forgot I used up the last o’ my cash on dinner last night. Just… stay here, babydoll, gotta head inside ‘n use the ATM quick, alright?”

You nod obediently, and watch him take long strides toward the convenience store before disappearing inside.

He’ll only be gone for a few minutes at the most, so you know that you have to make your move now. You’ve never had Joel bark at you before like he’d done when you had reached for that beat up cardboard box, and you still feel a little rattled by it. What could possibly have been in there that he didn’t want you to see? For the first time, you feel like you might not be able to trust him, and it makes you feel a little sick. You’ve started to feel like you might love Joel, and you think he probably feels the same way, even if you haven’t said those exact three words to each other yet. Someone who loves you wouldn’t hide things from you, would they? Especially not after you’ve already bared so much of your souls to each other, after you’ve decided that you belong to each other.

There’s only one way to find out, you decide.

You exit the truck quietly, swiftly closing the short distance between you and the trash can and peering into the black plastic bag that lines it. You fish out the shoebox from where it lays on top of other garbage, and crouch down in front of the gas pump to hide yourself from view. Taking a steadying breath, you carefully remove the weathered lid from the box and begin to examine its contents. At first glance, it seems to just be full of washed-out polaroids and a few random objects—a tarnished charm bracelet, a fraying ribbon, and a cracked pair of glasses among them. What is all this stuff? You think to yourself, Keepsakes from his former life, more of Tommy’s daughter’s things that he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of yet?

You pick up a photo laying face down on top of the pile and turn it over, almost immediately dropping it back into the box in favor of clapping your hand over your open mouth. You shut your eyes tightly as they begin to water, hoping that when you open them again, you’ll find that you were wrong about what you had just seen. That it was just a trick of the light, that it wasn’t what it seemed, that you had just imagined it.

But you aren’t so fortunate.

Your heart plummets into your stomach as you peer inside the box again, a sickly feeling of dread beginning to claw its way up the back of your neck. You examine the photo more closely, and it appears to be of a girl who looks about your age, bound at the hands, gagged, and naked. She’s kneeling on the damp forest floor, staring up at the photographer with a defeated, glazed-over expression. She’s bruised, bleeding from her nose, and filthy, with her hair tangled in knots and mascara-stained tears running down her cheeks. The photo looks to have captured her last moments alive.

One by one, you quickly examine a dozen or so more photos as your pulse hammers hard in your throat. Each of them are nearly identical, all depicting a pretty early twenty-something, either restrained and begging for her life or already dead. They all have dates scribbled on the front that are spaced out a mere couple of weeks from each other, with the names of the girls written on the backs of them. To your horror, you notice that some of the polaroids even have bloody fingerprints staining their white frames. It seems impossible that Joel could be the one who took these photos, that he could be the one to reduce these young girls to nothing more than weak puddles of tears and blood. You begin desperately trying to convince yourself that this is all part of a fucked-up nightmare you’re moments away from waking up from, until a photo containing a bright flash of white catches your eye. You can’t help how your face contorts into a grimace when you examine the photo closer, your stomach lurching at the sight of the amount of blood spilling from the back of the girl’s head as she lays lifeless on a wooden floor. All that she’s wearing are her underwear and a white tank top, the ditsy floral pattern of which you could swear you’ve seen before.

You don’t understand why it looks so familiar to you until you spread around more of the polaroids in the box, and spot one capturing a girl tied up and gagged on a motel bed, wearing a baby pink dress that grotesquely juxtaposes the depravity of her situation. She has wide, pleading doe eyes and ribbons finishing the ends of each of her braids that kind of make her look like… a doll.

The realization hits you all at once, that nearly all of the clothes Joel has given you since the day you met him had never belonged to Tommy’s daughter at all, if he even has one, if Tommy even really exists. You’d been wearing Anna’s white tank top with the delicate floral print. Elizabeth’s pink babydoll dress. Even the clothes you have on now probably belonged to some of Joel’s victims, but you don’t think you can stand to find out which ones.

Your thoughts begin to spiral out of control, an irrational part of your brain working overtime to come up with a million reasons why this can’t be true, that there has to be some other explanation for what you’re seeing, until you pick up a final photo, where the sleeve of Joel’s drab olive flannel is clearly visible in the corner. The shirt is tattered at the cuffs in the exact way that Joel’s is, and it has the same terracotta striping woven through the plaid pattern. Emerging from the bottom of the sleeve is a tanned, thick hand, wrapped tightly around a pale, fragile neck, with some of the girl’s blonde ringlet curls poking through the gaps between his fingers. When you flip over the photo, your blood runs cold when you read the name inscribed on the back—Ruby.

Your tears begin to fall then. How strange, how cruel, that fate has led you here, lured you straight to him. Someone that you thought you knew, trusted, loved, who’s suddenly a stranger to you all over again. You’ve just been doomed from the start, haven’t you? All along, it was Joel who had been responsible for building the trap you’ve found yourself ensnared in now. Ruby hadn’t run away at all that summer, hadn’t found a place she belonged, a place to start a real life for herself, a place to see her unlimited potential finally fulfilled. She’d met Joel, and he’d restricted her existence to nothing more than a polaroid that he keeps in a fucking shoebox under the seat of his truck. All along, this is where she’d been.

You feel like throwing up. You’re reeling, completely horrified and sick to your stomach, your life as you had just come to know it having come crashing down around you in an instant. You quickly replace the lid on the box and throw it back into the trash can, hopefully never to be seen again. You scramble back inside the truck just in time for the convenience store door to swing open again, the little bell accompanying the movement sounding sharp and sinister as it announces Joel’s imminent arrival. Your pulse pounds erratically against your ribcage as you try to act as naturally as possible, forcing your shaking hands to look like they’re busy adding the finishing touches to your latest sketch.

You don’t look at Joel as he approaches the truck, and he doesn’t seem to pay you much attention, either. He leans against the hood casually once he feeds the bills into the pump, letting the tank fill the rest of the way up with gas. You have to come up with an escape plan now, before your poorly disguised agitation gives you away and he figures out what you’ve seen.

When his task is finished, Joel climbs back into the driver’s seat exhales a deep breath, like he feels relieved to have finally discarded the evidence so you’d never find out the truth about him. You’re determined to keep him clueless for as long as you can.

“Ready to keep goin’, babydoll? Should only be another hour or so ‘fore we get to the next stop,” he asks, reaching over to you to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. You flinch away from his touch instinctually, then silently curse yourself for already doing such a shitty job at keeping up your facade.

“A-actually, um…” You swallow hard. “I’m kinda g-getting a headache, it really hurts. And I feel really s-sick. Is it okay if we just… go straight to a motel? I just wanna… lay down,” you lie, screwing up your face into a pained wince and wrapping your arms around your stomach in an effort to make it all more convincing.

“Oh, you poor thing…” Joel coos, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “Y’ do feel kinda hot… Sure, darlin’. Think there’s a place not too much further down the road here, jus’ hang tight.”

“T-thank you,” you reply weakly. Your voice is coming out a little uneven, but you hope it just adds to the believability of your act instead of raising suspicion. You try to cover it up with a cough and a little pained groan, just for good measure.

Joel doesn’t waste any more time getting back on the road, and you stay quiet for the short ride to the nearest motel, doing your best to hold back your tears and even out your breathing. You’ll need to be calm and clear-headed in order to have any chance at escape, lest you want to meet the same fate as the dozens of other girls who were probably also blinded by Joel’s southern charm and good looks, who were manipulated by his lies and tricked into believing that he could give them a happy ending. Was he ever going to let you see California? Or had he been leading you to your death all along?

You’re going to be the one who lives. For Ruby, you have to be. For all of them.

—

Just like the first night you’d spent with him, Joel has you wait in the truck while he checks in at the counter and retrieves the keys to your room before coming back to get you. You fake a stumble when you step down from the truck, and Joel mumbles a ‘Jesus, babydoll’ before hoisting you into his arms and carrying you across the room’s threshold, setting you down softly onto the bed.

“Whaddya need, sweet girl? Water? Some crackers, or somethin’? Bet I could ask the front desk if they got some medicine or anythin’ like that,” Joel asks, sitting on the edge of the bed while you curl up and turn away from him. You do your best not to flinch this time when he decides to comfortingly massage the back of your neck.

“Can you ask, please? It hurts so bad,” you whine, unable to tamp down your shuddering sobs any longer.

“Sure I will, my poor lil’ girl… I’ll be right back, alright?”

Joel pets your hair for a moment, and the gesture would normally flood your belly with lovesick butterflies, but it only feels predatorial now, like a lion trying to convince its prey that it only wants to play, that it won’t be torn to pieces and eaten alive.

Your body finally relaxes when Joel leaves the room, and you count out thirty seconds to hopefully allow him to reach the front office before you make your break. When you whisper the final ‘thirty’ to yourself, you spring out of bed and sprint out the door, almost tripping over your own feet in your race to reach the payphone you’d spotted earlier in the parking lot. You figured that trying to call for help would be a smarter move than running, and you’d never make it far on foot, anyway, not in the flimsy little dress and cheap canvas sneakers you’re wearing. You’d stolen a few quarters out of the truck’s center console while Joel was letting the gas pump, and you shakily deposit them into the slot, nearly dropping them. You punch the numbers 9-1-1 into the keypad, nearly ripping the phone clean off the hook as you bring it up to your ear.

“Come on, come on, come on…” You mutter to yourself, drumming your bitten fingernails against the hard plastic handset as the mocking dial tone trills in your ear.

“911, what is your emergency?” comes a voice on the other line, female.

“Please, I need hel–” but before you can even finish the word, he’s on you, one large hand clapped over your mouth while the other rips the phone out of your hand and slams it back into the receiver. You kick and bite and thrash, but your pitiful attempts at escape do nothing to deter him. After all, his pickup is the only car in the lot, and your room is the only one with a light on. The clerk who checked him in could have never existed at all, for all you know. There’s not a soul around to hear you cry or beg or scream, except for him. You should have known that he would see straight through you, that he would’ve anticipated you getting curious and made sure he was always one step ahead of you. Joel drags you back to the room with a two-handed grasp on your upper arm, gripped onto you hard enough you’re sure his fingertips will leave bruises.

“No, no, no, please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Joel!” You plead, using his first name in a pathetic effort to try to appeal to whatever morality he might have left.

“You stupid fuckin’ bitch…” he spits.

Joel kicks open the door to your room and flings it shut behind him so hard you’re surprised the wood doesn’t shatter, splintering into a million sharp little pieces. He throws you down onto the stained double bed you’ll be sharing tonight, if he doesn’t decide to use the yellowed comforter to wrap your lifeless corpse in later instead. You push yourself up into a sitting position and brace yourself for whatever he’ll do to you for disobeying him, for trying to escape. You’ve never seen this side of him before, never even come close to upsetting him like this in the time that you’ve known him.

“Don’t know who the fuck you were tryin’ to call, but you better get it through that dumb fuckin’ brain of yours that nobody gives a fuck about you anymore except for me, you got that? Cops ain’t gonna do nothin’ about some fuckin’ runaway slut, ‘specially not one who’s got nobody to miss her in the first place. ‘S why you ran away, ‘s why I picked you up… ‘Cause we both know ain’t nobody gonna come lookin’ for you. Wouldn’t be able to find your body even if they did,” he barks at you, a huge paw wrapped in the hair at the base of your skull to keep your gaze trained on him.

“Please, please don’t hurt me! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do it again, I promise–”

“Y’ know… I saved you from that hell hole, I gave you everything, and this is the fuckin’ thanks I get?!” The low gravel of his voice seems to be coming from somewhere deep and cavernous inside of him. It fills the entire room with a black smoke that penetrates your eardrums and fills your mouth with something bitter.

“I know, I know, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you–”

“Yeah, I know you weren’t fuckin thinkin’. Dumb fuckin’ cunt.” Joel releases your hair and you collapse in on yourself, beginning to sob all over again. You know it probably makes you look weak in front of him, but you can’t help it as the dread washes over you. You’re on the verge of hyperventilating, wondering if this will be the one mistake that seals your fate, if he’ll let you live long enough to see those aching little imprints on your arm from where he grabbed you bloom into purple-red blotches in the morning. With your eyes shut tight and hot tears streaming down your cheeks, you’re heaving, trying to catch your breath as you release broken little noises that sound like sorry, sorry, sorry. The repeated apology almost resembles some kind of prayer, as if that could save you now.

He lets you run the gamut of your terror for a minute before pinching the bridge of his nose, the calloused pads of his fingers squeezing that angry red scar that adorns it. He expels a heavy sigh and sits beside you on the bed, the springs of the old mattress screeching as they dip with his weight.

“C’mere, babydoll,” he says, quietly now, and you feel too weak to fight him as he pulls you into his lap and helps you to straddle your legs across his thick waist. You can feel his hardening bulge against your core through the thin material of your panties, exposed now by the skirt of your dress riding up and pooling at the creases of your thighs.

“‘S okay, darlin’ I forgive you.” He lets you cry into his shoulder as he shushes you, rocking you side to side and petting the top of your head as if he were soothing a spooked little dog. When you’re able to take deep breaths again, your senses are flooded with his familiar comforting scent. The combination of his natural cologne and the softness of his voice reaches inside some deep corner of your brain that isn’t completely terrorized and disgusted by him, and it’s enough for you to lift your head up to face him again.

“Y-you do?” You squeak out as you sniffle, and Joel wipes away the last of your salty tears with one of his rough thumbs, sucking it into his mouth afterwards. He lets out a soft groan before gripping your jaw so that the fat of your cheeks makes your lips pucker.

“Yeah, babydoll… But why would you try to go off runnin’ like that, hm? Thought you were mine, my girl, thought we understood each other.”

His tone, the furrow in his brows and the slight pout of his lips make you feel guilty, somehow, upset with yourself for making him feel this way, for trying to run from his care and affection. “I-I thought so, too. But then… then I…” you stutter, finding it impossible to speak coherently anymore.

“Then what, babydoll?” Joel prompts calmly, stroking his thumb along your cheek as he squeezes it.

“T-the box… I saw—”

“Yeah… You saw my girls, didn’t you, baby? That’s why you tried to run, ain’t it? Look at me, babydoll.”

Joel jostles your face in his grip, and you obey his command, nodding slowly. When you look into his eyes, you finally notice how dark they’ve become, their usual warm amber color now appearing more red.

“You… you killed her. I-it was you.”

“Which one’re you talkin’ about, baby? Collected a lotta girls over the years, lose track of ‘em after a while.”

Your stomach churns at his callousness. “R-Ruby… I saw h-her. Y-you… you were…” You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, your words interrupted by your hiccuping breaths.

“Oh, Ruby…” Joel shifts his hips into yours, a growl rumbling from deep in his chest as he closes his eyes for a moment, turning over her name on his tongue. “Yeah… She was a pretty thing, wasn’t she? Feisty one, though. ‘Bout broke my goddamn nose. Wasn’t gonna be so rough with her, but… she practically asked for it.” He brushes his finger across the scar on his face, and your eyes well up again when you make the connection. “What else did you see, hm? Talk t’ me about it, babydoll.” Even through his jeans, you can feel that he’s fully hard now, turned on at the prospect of reliving those gruesome scenes.

Nauseating visions of the polaroids flash across your memory—the girl bleeding from the back of her head, the one with the cut throat, the one with her neck bent at an unnatural angle. “No, please don’t make me…” you shake your head at him, your bottom lip trembling as you fight back more stinging tears.

Joel releases his hold on your face in favor of giving your cheek a harsh smack. “Wasn’t a fuckin’ question, girl.”

You use his loosened grip as an opportunity to try to scramble out of his lap, hitting your hands against his chest as you try to push off the bed and get back onto your feet.

“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so. Quit fuckin’ strugglin’.”

He’s got you flipped onto your back in a second, with your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He stands between your parted thighs, and you look up at him through blurred vision, one of his strong hands now attempting to cut off the blood supply to your brain as he uses the other to free his thick cock from his jeans. His teeth are bared, and the look in his eyes is faraway, as if the Joel you thought you knew is somewhere else entirely, miles away from this dingy motel room off the side of the freeway. He’s long gone now, replaced by this monstrous version of him that you don’t recognize.

“Keep fightin’, see what fuckin’ happens… I’d take the prettiest photos of you, y’ know that? Add you to my lil’ collection, have no choice but to be mine forever… You’d fit right in, babydoll, this perfect fuckin’ body.”

He slides a hand up and down his leaking shaft as he rambles, and it’s impossible to deny how much it excites him, talking about his killing, his ritual.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, promised myself I’d be done after the last one but—fuck—just can’t fuckin’ stop myself. ‘S just so goddamn easy,” Joel hisses through his teeth. His hand never leaves your neck as he flips up the skirt of your dress and yanks your ashamedly damp panties down your trembling legs. He flings them haphazardly onto a discolored patch of carpet in the corner of the room, and it makes you wince, imagining how he must’ve disposed of so many other girls before you in the same careless manner.

As hopeless as it seems now, you won’t be one of them. You don’t have any other choice, you have to make it out of this alive, you have to do something.

“W-what… what is?” You manage to choke out.

Joel looks down at you, almost startled, as if you’re an inanimate object speaking to him, like he didn’t expect you to have a voice.

“Huh?”

“Y-you said… it’s so easy. What’s easy?”

He licks his lips as he thinks on his response, a sickly smile tugging at the corners. “Pickin’ up a pretty slut nobody’s gonna miss, takin’ her home with me and turnin’ her fuckin’ lights out. They practically do it to themselves with all their strugglin’ and bitin’ and scratchin’, just want ‘em to fuckin’—unh—behave.”

You whine as he pushes his tip inside your little hole, but try to maintain your composure. You think you understand now, why he’s acting this way. He wants you to want to be with him, and it triggers some kind of deepset anger inside of him when you fight, when you run, when you throw his affection back in his face. Killing the girls might not even be his end goal, at least not when he first takes them, more like an inevitable side effect of what happens when they try to escape his captivity and he feels rejected, hurt, tossed aside. And then he lashes out. And then they die. And then the cycle repeats. You’d lasted this long because you’d been the first to not reject his advances, because he’d seen himself in you.

If you don’t fight, if you can keep him talking, if you can convince him that this is what you want, you might have a chance at survival. It’s not much of a strategy, but it’s something, and it’s better than giving up.

“How… how do you d-do it?” you ask, a little less rasp in your voice as his grip on your throat begins to loosen, but his hand never leaves it entirely. He slides the rest of his cock inside you as you stutter out your question, and he laughs.

“You sure you wanna hear it, babydoll? Might be a bit much for you.” He’s fully seated inside you now, and the stretch of him burns. Even though the two of you have been fucking like bunnies practically every day since you’ve met, you can only fight against your body so much, and the fear you’re trying desperately not to clue him into is making every one of your muscles tighten around him.

“No! No, I-I wanna know. Tell me, please…” You bat your eyelashes up at him for good measure, and his canine grin widens some more.

“God, y’ really are just as fucked up as I am, huh? ‘S why I kept you around, ‘cause you’re like me…” He begins to piston his thick length in and out of you, affectionately tucking a lock of hair behind your ear with his free hand as he does. The other one constricts your airflow once again, and you stifle a whimper, suppressing the urge to argue and spit back that you’re not like him. “Usually strangle ‘em, little throats always fit so perfectly in my hands, jus’ like this…”

His voice trails off as he shoves into you harder, picking up his pace. Your breathing becomes broken and frantic as you claw through the black cloud closing in on your vision in your effort to keep him talking. “And then what?” you squeak out.

“Squeeze ‘em, real hard and slow,” Joel growls. “Try not to come in my jeans just from the pathetic lil’ sounds they make when they’re prayin’ to God to save ‘em. Ain’t so gentle with ‘em if they put up too much of a fight, though. Jus’ gotta cut the shit sometimes, slice ‘em open or split their fuckin’ skulls just to make ‘em stop. God, you’d never believe the amount of blood a lil’ girl like you’s got in ‘em.” He’s slamming his hips into your sore cunt now, both hands wrapped tightly around your neck as he uses it for leverage. You feel your muscles begin to slacken, either from the lack of oxygen or from his just-right strokes against that little spot deep inside, you can’t be sure. It was just a survival instinct, you’ll tell yourself in the morning.

“Yeah? It’s… it’s a lot?” you prompt, skin feeling tingly and voice coming out hoarse, sounding like it had come from somewhere else other than your own body. It could’ve just been the wind, a tractor-trailer whistling by outside.

“Yeah, ‘s a lot. Bleed so fuckin’ much, y’ think it might never stop. Just keeps—fuck—comin’...”

Joel’s voice breaks on the telltale word, his thrusts becoming frenzied and disjointed as he nears his release. A few high-pitched moans manage to squeeze past your compressed vocal chords, and they’re half-genuine, half-forced as a means to spur him on and speed up the process. The stretches of skin between his thumbs and forefingers are pressing down, down, down against your windpipe, and you plead with him as coherently as possible in your race against that darkness threatening to swallow you whole.

“C-come, Joel, p-please, want you to—”

“Shut up, babydoll. Fuck… Eyes on me, c’mon,” he orders, shaking you by the neck to wake you up a bit, prevent your eyes from closing all the way. “Look at me. Just… lay fuckin’ still, don’t make a sound. Hold your goddamn breath, okay? Don’t even fuckin’ blink.”

He’s never demanded something like this before, but you aren’t exactly in a position to disobey. You do as he asks, and some of it comes involuntarily, anyway. With your hands laid at your sides, eyes looking into Joel’s own but somehow past them, unblinking, your mouth slack and lungs paralyzed, you almost feel like…

Like one of them.

“Tha’s it, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants to himself, rutting into your limp body with abandon as he chases his high. You can’t help but let another tear slip past your lashes, and he doesn’t wipe it away this time.

A few more bruising pulses of his cock later, and all the blood rushes back into your head at once as Joel lets go of his vice grip around your neck, collapsing on top of your still form and breathing heavily into the damp skin of your neck where your wet tears have collected. He stays like that for a while, still slotted inside you, and you let him come back into himself for as long as he needs, not daring to move a muscle until he permits you to do so.

Joel slides himself out of your leaking hole when he’s finally caught his breath, grunting as he pushes himself up off the bed and runs a hand through his sweat-damp hair. He studies your abused form, then tuts when he notices the marks he left around your throat.

“Better make sure you wear your hair down tomorrow, I reckon. Got a decent record of keepin’ the law off my ass, I’d rather keep it that way.”

Tomorrow. He plans on letting you live. Until then, anyway.

“Okay,” you agree quietly.

Joel doesn’t let you out of his sight again for the rest of the evening. He’d helped you up off the bed and into the shower, where he’d cleaned both of your bodies and scrubbed the dried tears and sweat from your skin. He’d sunk his claws into your scalp as he washed your hair under the scalding water, and you wondered if the suds could carry even the intangible filth down the drain with it—the guilt, the fear, the defeat, the violation. You almost wish you hadn’t looked in the box at all. What difference would it have made, if you’d stayed with him in ignorance? Those girls are still dead. It’s not like you can save them now. You couldn’t even save yourself.

Joel changes you into one of his large t-shirts for you to sleep in tonight, instead of a frilly nightgown or something else short and revealing that he’d usually pick out for you. You suppose that the choice of clothing acts as a more visible representation of his ownership over you. He’s marking his territory, scenting you like a dog. Like you’re his bitch.

Joel holds you suffocatingly close to him in bed that night, his arms wrapped around you so tightly that it’s difficult for your ribs to expand. He keeps one hand possessively wrapped around the column of your neck, not squeezing, just to remind you what he’s capable of. As if you could ever forget.

“Y’know what, babydoll? I think we could be partners, you and I,” Joel says in a slow, gravelly voice, right next to your ear.

“W-what do you mean?” You whisper back into the darkness.

“I just… I tried to quit, y’ know, but I don’t think I can. I don’t want to. Too damn old and slow to keep chasin’ after ‘em anymore, but… ‘f I keep you around, you’d just make the perfect bait, wouldn’t you? That pretty face, sweet lil’ smile, you could lure ‘em straight to me, they’d never see it comin’.”

“See… what coming?”

“My hands. The knife. A fuckin’ rock. Whatever, ‘s up to them.”

His words linger in the air, and you know you should say something, but how could you possibly respond to what he’s asking of you?

“You want me to… to kill—”

“No, no, ‘course not, babydoll. Wouldn’t even have to be in the room while it’s happenin’, would never ask my sweet girl to get her hands dirty like that. Jus’ gotta bring ‘em to me, tha’s all. Maybe go after ‘em if they try to run. I mean… you’d rather it be them than you, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” Joel’s hand closes in around your throat, and you understand now what he’s offering you—a deal. Your life in exchange for helping him grow his collection of victims, helping him satisfy his urges. He’s made you feel indebted to him, like you owe him something in exchange for letting you live tonight. He thinks he’s found something special in you, a victim who finally can’t run away from him, who won’t, now. There’s enough of a connection still here, although held together by fear, that he knows you won’t try escaping again. Because he saved you, the first time from starving on the side of the road, the second time from himself. And you owe him your life, now, in some form or another.

You only nod against the pillow, but it seems to be enough for him.

Joel kisses the back of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. “I love you, babydoll.”

His fingers press harder against your arteries, making it clear that you have no choice but to respond with what he wants to hear.

“I love you too, Joel.”

The words are still true, you think, somehow. But it just feels like you’re saying them to a stranger now.

You wish you would’ve listened to the one useful thing your mother had ever told you—not to talk to strangers, or you might fall in love.

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