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[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (11)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. depression, cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships

notes. 12k wc. we're so close to the finale <3 thanks so much for the continued support and for the patience you guys have with this series :')

series masterlist -> episode twelve

For better and worse. 

Weddings are funny things. Despite the strict adherence to ceremonial traditions, they didn’t guarantee a happily ever after. Exchanging vows and the signing of marriage certificates could become meaningless when a couple faces challenges that would drive them apart. Consider the high-profile divorces of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck, or Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise. Divorce had become so common that it almost seemed inevitable for many couples, even the ones with the most fairytale-like relationships. No one was safe from the idea of a divorce. So, was having a wedding really that important? Would it really define the quality and longevity of a relationship?

Satoru might have been thinking bitterly about it, given that his own marriage wasn’t exactly a shining success. However, he was also being rational when he said that weddings weren’t necessary to prove your love for each other. Early in his marriage, he certainly wasn’t the best husband, but over time, he learned to genuinely become a good partner to his ex-wife. There was no specific time frame for loving someone. You could be together for weeks, months, or years, yet the depth of love you share might remain unchanged. This constancy can be either a blessing or a curse, depending on how deep your love was from the beginning.

Well… On the topic of marriages, Satoru had no good thing to say. But that didn’t mean he shouldn’t participate in it. Weddings were still considered a special celebration for families and close friends, and He would be selfish not to share in such a beautiful event with his best friends. Besides, wasn’t it always expected that Suguru and Shoko would end up marrying each other? They were lucky—fortunate because their marriage was built on a foundation of genuine love. In contrast, Satoru’s marriage began out of convenience, which ultimately led to all the terrible things that followed.

As the best man, Satoru strode confidently alongside Suguru down the aisle, both adorned in princely tuxedos, drawing the eyes of the guests as they followed their procession. There were teasing remarks, smiles all around, and even a comment from one of the groom’s female cousins about how handsome they both looked. Despite the gentle commotion, Satoru understood why Suguru remained nervous as they reached the end of the aisle. He comfortingly stood by his side, offered a reassuring pat on the back, silently communicating to his best friend that everything would be alright.

“Don’t tell me you��ll back out now,” Satoru jested, whispering in Suguru’s ear as they observed the guests entering in accordance with the processional order.

Suguru, with his once long hair now neatly trimmed and slicked back, cleared his throat in an attempt to appear less anxious. “What if she gets cold feet?” 

Gojou couldn’t help but tease. “Shoko? You really think she’d have cold feet?” he chuckled. “She’d be the one dragging your ass back to this garden if you tried to run away.”

“Fair enough.” 

Just the night before, they had checked into the Hoshinoya Fuji to celebrate Suguru's last night of freedom. While there was drinking involved, one of the groomsmen insisted it wouldn’t be a proper bachelor’s party without some female company. So, inevitably, there were women in the hotel room, one of whom even gave Suguru a lap dance even though he showed no interest whatsoever. It was amusing to Satoru, considering his best friend used to be the biggest casanova, and now he was a committed and loyal man who, not only was terrified out of his wits on his wedding day, but was also afraid that the one woman he loved might run away from him.

Such genuine, pure love. 

As Satoru pondered, his gaze landed on Akemi, who was seated a couple of rows back among the other guests. She had just arrived, her hair tied elegantly in a low ponytail and her silky sage dress accentuating her womanly figure flawlessly. She was wearing the diamond Tiffany & Co. earrings he had gifted her, which made her stand out among the rest of the people in that garden. Their eyes also met at the perfect moment, her gaze sparkling upon seeing Satoru in his tuxedo. He offered her a smile, one that silently conveyed ‘I’ll be there with you later,’ and she immediately understood. 

How fortunate was Satoru to have her? Perhaps the reason for her late appearance was because she had been looking after Sachiro back home, fulfilling the duties that his ex-wife should have been doing. She was truly a mother who stepped up, especially during a time when both he and his son felt most abandoned.

And what about you? Who knew if you would even attend the wedding? You were meant to be Ieiri’s maid-of-honor, yet you were conspicuously absent. Perhaps you were still in Monaco, enjoying your time playing house with Toji, making a wedding like this seem insignificant to you. You would have informed Miwa in advance and picked up Sachiro if you had returned to Tokyo, right? Suguru also hadn’t mentioned anything about your arrival at the accommodation, hinting that someone else would have to step in as Shoko's maid-of-honor.

But who would it be? Shoko’s cousin? One of her other female co-workers? Her high school friend? 

“Look, mom! She’s beautiful~”

Satoru was rendered speechless, utterly captivated by the sight before him. His fingers tingled with anticipation, his heart raced in his chest, his feet felt rooted to the ground, and his eyes remained fixed on the next lady gracefully making her way down the aisle. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what struck him the most: was it the sight of you in a stunning light green dress, resembling an angel descended from the heavens, or was it the haunting reminder of his own wedding day, when you walked down the same aisle as his most beautiful bride?

His breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening with each step you took down the aisle. Satoru felt like a statue, frozen in place, unable to tear his gaze away from you. You had become the sole focus of his attention, the rest of the world fading into a blur around him. He couldn’t comprehend it. Why was it so effortless for him to let his guard down around you?

This woman, he thought. This woman is Sachiro’s mother. This was the same woman that carried his flesh and blood for nine months, now appearing as radiant as a freshly bloomed flower, as if untouched by the stresses of unexpected motherhood. What had transpired in Monaco to transform you into this vision of beauty?

“You’re drooling.” Suguru nudged him on the chest. “This isn’t your wedding. You had your chance.” 

Yes, he was well aware. This wasn’t his wedding, and he needed to maintain composure. Yet, it felt as though he was being drawn inexorably towards the mesmerizing goddess before him. With each beat of his heart quickening, he struggled to remind himself: No, Satoru. She's nothing to you now.

And because he was lost in a trance, he remained oblivious to the bride’s entrance and even Suguru’s emotional reaction to seeing his bride. His attention was solely fixated on you as he stole glances your way whenever he could. It wasn’t until the exchanging of rings, when you two had to stand side by side to assist the bride and groom, that he snapped back to reality. With you so close yet seemingly distant, Satoru felt a pang of disappointment as you never returned his gaze. The whispers and side comments from the guests also added to his discomfort, making him acutely aware of the scrutiny placed upon the best man and maid-of-honor.

“Aren’t they divorced?”

“Yeah, their marriage was a wreck.” 

“They’re bad luck. I hope they don’t pass it onto the couple.”  

For the first time in a long time, Satoru was gripped by an unprecedented desire to retort, to refute the misconceptions surrounding his marriage. Yet, he knew it was futile. Engaging in a verbal sparring match with another guest would only ruin his best friends' special day. Moreover, he might risk causing unintentional hurt to Akemi by defending a marriage that had long ceased to exist. So, despite the internal turmoil, he remained silent, allowing the whispers to persist unchecked.

And, with that, the wedding ceremony ended. Shoko and Suguru were now declared husband and wife. 

— — 

The reception was a time for socializing, enjoying drinks and hors d’oeuvres, and congratulating the newlyweds. For Suguru and Shoko, this part of the celebration felt effortless and their energies were seamlessly complementing each other’s. Unlike arranged marriages, there was no sense of haste or coercion; theirs was a union born of genuine affection. You couldn’t help but feel foolish for ever entertaining the notion that this was merely a conventional wedding experience. Here, before your eyes, unfolded a true celebration of love between two people.

Did Satoru share the same sentiments? You wondered what thoughts raced through his mind during the proceedings. Did the event trigger memories of his own past, or stir feelings of longing for what could have been?

You refused to subject yourself to the torment of dwelling on your past. If anything, your time living alone in Monaco had been a crucial step in your healing journey. While the process was far from complete, that solitary retreat had provided a much-needed respite from the source of your stress. It afforded you the opportunity to contemplate the life you were destined to lead, albeit alone for the foreseeable future.

By allowing Sachiro to spend more time with his father, you not only facilitated the rebuilding of their fractured relationship, but also acclimated your child to your absence. It was a necessary adjustment, one that would prepare him for the reality of your impending solitary existence. At least, Sachiro had a chance to live in a loving household with Satoru and Akemi, instead of a miserable and lonely way of living together with you. 

In the end, it was all for your child. 

As for the potential emotional minefield of attending this wedding, you were there for Shoko, who had always been a steadfast and understanding presence in your life. Her genuine friendship meant more to you than mere familial bonds ever could. Even at the risk of stirring up unhealthy emotions by being in a room full of people who hurt you, you couldn’t bear to disappoint Ieiri. 

Admittedly though, navigating the wedding crowd was a delicate balance of warmth and formality. Ieiri’s side of the family, who were doctors heavily acquainted with your family, greeted you with genuine warmth. While Suguru’s relatives, who were more closely tied to the Gojou family, maintained a polite distance. Although there were occasional moments of discomfort, you knew how to maintain composure throughout. 

As for Toji’s absence, while a part of you wished he could have been there as a supportive presence, you also recognized the value in learning to handle situations involving your ex-husband independently. He had an unavoidable business trip, but that also provided an opportunity for you to stop relying on him and navigate such occasions like these on your own. He was nothing more than a friend now. 

While that ex-husband, Satoru, was here with your best friend. It didn’t surprise you that he had brought Akemi as a plus one. In fact, you had expected it to happen. It just wasn’t the best feeling to be the maid-of-honor when the best man clearly had another lady for it in mind. 

It was quite amusing, too. Not once had Akemi approached you during the reception. You understood that she wanted to keep her distance, but you found it disrespectful that she was ignoring your existence. Was she scared to talk to you? Scared of what you had to say? You had heard over a million hurtful things from other people, yet she was afraid to hear a few pieces of advice from you?  

Forget it. Forget her and Satoru. Focus on the reception, Y/N. 

But really, how could you? As the moment arrived for the newlyweds’ first dance, tradition dictated that the best man and maid-of-honor should also take to the floor. You sensed the tension in the air as Satoru hesitated, surrounded by urging groomsmen, deciding whether or not he should ask you for a dance. He looked like he was battling with what was right and wrong in his mind, yet ultimately he chose to pass by you, extending his hand to Akemi instead.

It wasn’t feelings of shame that slapped you to reality. It was seeing Satoru holding Akemi’s hand, another on her waist, as they slowly danced to Can’t Help Falling In Love, a song that was played on your wedding day. 

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

Oh, for I can’t help

Falling in love with you

It shouldn’t hurt anymore. You were doing better. You were doing so good, you were doing… you were okay. You should be okay. Or did you overestimate your emotions a little too much? Because this, seeing the man you loved with all your heart holding another woman in his arms, was tortuous to your soul. You could feel the pains of your past tugging at your heart, wondering why he never danced like that with you on your wedding day? Why he never stared at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world, why he never showed you off in a room full of curious people, why he never respected you enough to treat you with such… with such love. 

“Everything okay?”

You didn’t expect Nanami, out of all people, to be offering you a handkerchief. You hadn’t even realized that your eyes were already pooling of the tears if he had not cut you out of trance, offering a comforting and sympathetic smile. You had to blink multiple times just to push your tears back in. 

“Yeah,” you answered with a grateful expression. I’m strong. I’ll be fine. “Thank you.” 

Nanami took that as a sign to offer his hand. “Care for a dance, then?” 

Wiping your eyes, you nodded, smiling at the man. “Why not?” 

After the dance, the reception continued as follows. The cake cutting, the dinner service, then the toasts and speeches. If it wasn’t for Nanami, you wouldn’t have been able to pick yourself back up after the humiliation of seeing Satoru and Akemi dancing together. You just needed a decent amount of air to breathe and gather yourself together again. It was a nice help from someone who wasn’t a personal acquaintance of yours, that despite being Satoru’s right hand man in the company, Nanami still had some kindness in him that you would forever be thankful for. 

And when it was time for you to do your speech as the MOH, you didn’t let a single vulnerable emotion slip out of you. For that short moment, you tried not to think about who was in the audience, about what they thought of you, and about what other preconceived notions they had of you. You focused on the newlyweds as you stood in front of the mic stand, eye-to-eye with Shoko and Suguru, who were holding each other’s hands. 

“Shoko,” you began, smiling genuinely at the couple, “Through the laughter and tears, you’ve been my constant, my confidante, my rock. And today, as I watch you embark on this new chapter of your life, I’m honestly a bit overwhelmed with emotion.” 

The bride returned your smile, and you can tell Shoko was holding back tears of her own as she glanced between you and Satoru. 

You continued your speech, observing Suguru’s supportive gesture towards his wife as you spoke. “Shoko, I recall our late-night conversations, the tears shed over broken marriages, and the pain of shattered relationships. Yet, through it all, you’ve remained steadfast in your belief in love, in hope, in the possibility of a happily ever after.” Turning to Suguru, although he still had that lingering discomfort around you, you offered him nothing but heartfelt words. “As I look at you and Suguru, I’m reminded that true love exists—a love that is patient, kind, and enduring. My wish for you both is a lifetime filled with laughter, joy, and unwavering support for each other. May you cherish each other’s hearts, protect each other’s dreams, and weather life’s storms together, stronger in your love. Suguru, during your challenging days as a married couple, I pray that you always look at Shoko and remember why you love her. I pray that you will always have the capacity to cherish and respect her as your wife and the future mother of your children. May you keep her in your heart, no matter what challenges may come your way.”

As tears welled in Ieiri’s eyes, your voice faltered, the magnitude of your wishes for their marriage weighing heavily on your own unfulfilled desires. You weren’t trying to make this about you, and you hoped they thought that, too. 

“As I raise my glass to toast this beautiful union,” you said, raising the champagne glass on your hand, “I do so with a heart full of love and a silent prayer—that your love story will be one of triumph, of healing, and of endless happiness. Congratulations, Shoko and Suguru!”

— —

Satoru was deeply affected by your speech. Both in good and bad ways. On one hand, he was touched by the sincerity of your words and the genuine wishes you extended to the newlywed couple. On the other hand, he couldn’t shake off the pang of guilt and remorse that accompanied your words, knowing all too well the history behind them. When you expressed your hopes for Suguru to always cherish and respect Shoko, Satoru couldn’t help but reflect on his own behavior during your marriage and the ways in which he may have fallen short.

Each action he did definitely had a lasting impact on you. 

But what about the good ones? Had you forgotten about the times he treated you well? Had you forgotten the lengths he took just to prove to you that he was a changed man? That at one point in his life, he would do everything in him just to show you how much he loved you? 

It was unfair. Why did you only ever look at the bad things he did and never the good ones? Why did you still see him as a villain in your marriage when he knew he had paid his dues after he lost you?

It was truly, honestly unfair, that you get to be happy with Toji, but he ought to feel guilty for being with Akemi. 

“I think they’re about to do the bouquet and garter toss,” spoke Akemi, tugging at Satoru’s arm while they sat on their designated table. She held a napkin on her other hand to wipe her partner’s chin, smiling in excitement. “You should go and join.” 

Where were you? After your speech, Satoru couldn’t seem to find you anymore. Where had you gone off to? Did you leave already? 

“Y-Yeah,” Satoru answered, looking around the venue before turning to Akemi. “What about you? Won’t you join the bouquet toss thing?” 

She shook her head, hesitantly. “Isn’t it only for bridesmaids?” 

He grabbed her hand and urged her up. “No, it’s for all unmarried female guests. Come on.” 

The reason Satoru dragged her along was because Akemi loved weddings, and she especially enjoyed the traditions that came with it. She herself once dreamt about the picture perfect wedding, but never got to fully have her own, so attending such occasions made up for the lack of personally experiencing it. 

Gojou couldn’t exactly remember if he did the garter toss in his own wedding. If so, who had caught it? Who had caught your bouquet? His eyes swept across the entire venue once more, searching for your familiar figure among the guests. He was too occupied to realize that Shoko had already tossed her bouquet, and the frenzy of eager ladies ensued until it landed in Akemi’s hands.

He genuinely felt happy for Akemi. The joy in her eyes upon catching Shoko’s bouquet was unmistakable. Yet, as the playful teasing about a potential wedding for him shifted in his direction, Satoru couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pressure. It wasn’t supposed to weigh on him like this. It was too soon to have that expectation of him. 

“Looks like someone’s getting married next!”

And while he was feeling suffocated from the pressure placed upon him, the receiver of the tossed garter happened to have been Nanami. 

Immediately, the teasing ensued, with the other guests urging Nanami to wear the garter on Akemi’s leg. Out of respect, Nanami looked at Gojou for permission, but honestly? He was just grateful he didn’t have to do all that and be pressured about another wedding that he had not yet thought about. Fuck it, thank God Nanami had caught the garter because Satoru was sure as hell starting to feel uneasy there. 

“Go for it,” was the only thing Satoru said to Nanami, gesturing his chin at Akemi’s direction. 

While everyone was focused on the situation between Nanami and Akemi, Satoru took that opportunity to escape from the crowd and find his peace at the balcony. He hastily made his way out of the reception hall, feeling a sense of relief as he could finally breathe. 

And there you were, standing alone, lost in contemplation, and your gaze fixed upon the tranquil expanse of the lakeside. The chill breeze caressed your hair softly, as if mirroring the calm that enveloped your countenance. In another universe, this would have been an opportune moment to hug you from behind, sharing the warmth of his embrace around your figure. But he was living in a universe where you and him weren’t meant to be together.

In fact, you were probably thinking about another man as you stared at the lake, hoping that he was there with you. 

“Did you have fun in Monaco with Toji?” Satoru was crazy for going straight to the point, and he knew it was a blunt inquiry, bordering on intrusive, but it tumbled out nonetheless, revealing the thoughts that had been plaguing in his mind. His words spilled out before he could rein them in, a question born of curiosity and perhaps a touch of jealousy.

As for you, with your peace in the balcony now ruined, you briefly opened your mouth to respond, but held back against it as you met Gojou’s eyes with a distant stare. You were even quick to look away and sigh, like he was not worth the conversation. You had not spoken a word to him since the wedding ceremony and you were definitely going to keep doing it. 

And man, did that hurt his ego. 

So, for a very stupid reason, he felt the need to hurt yours in return. “Do you know Sachi calls Akemi ‘mama’ in his sleep?” 

Your eyes remained empty. “Good for you, then. You won’t have a hard time getting him accustomed to it.” 

“Y/N.” Satoru’s voice came out as a warning, and he was about to start an argument on why you were abandoning him and Sachi over Toji, but he was interrupted at the appearance of Akemi carrying Shoko’s bouquet as she tried to search for her lover. This meant that the conversation with the ex-wife was over.

But as he glanced between you and Akemi, his bitter past and his sweet present, why did Satoru’s heart still lingered with you when it shouldn’t?

“You should go,” you briefly muttered, walking in the opposite direction, “Your future wife’s looking for you.”

Satoru’s sudden grip on your wrist halted your steps abruptly. His voice carried a bitter edge as he reminded you of the agreement you had made. “Y/N, we agreed to co-parent Sachiro properly. Why are you choosing Toji over your own son?” 

The accusation left a tense atmosphere, eliciting a sharp response from you as you yanked your hand away, a flash of anger igniting in your eyes. “You have no idea what you're talking about, Satoru.”

— —

“Welcome to Hoshinoya Fuji, Ms. L/N!” 

You stepped out of the car, taking in the serene beauty of the lakeside cabin that would be your sanctuary for the next three days and two nights. Nestled among towering pines and sturdy oaks, the cabin exuded a rustic charm that blended seamlessly with the natural landscape. Its weathered wooden exterior, adorned with a green tin roof, seemed to have grown organically from the earth itself.

The cabin sat on a gentle slope that led directly to the water’s edge. A wooden deck wrapped around the front, offering a perfect vantage point for gazing out over the tranquil lake. Your room also had the best view of Mount Fuji, which you thought was the highlight of this luxurious accommodation. 

After the newlywed send-off, you were quickly ushered in by Shoko and Suguru’s staff, who were in charge of attending to the special guests staying a few extra days at the cabin. Though the couple wouldn’t start their proper honeymoon until their 6-month long cruise trip in two weeks, they wanted their guests to enjoy the accommodations they had arranged. You were relieved to hear that, despite Satoru and Akemi also being among the friends staying, each guest had their own private cabin reserved.

The thing was, you could leave any time if you wanted to. Shoko also reassured you that it would be okay and that she would understand if you wanted to go home right away. She knew that the situation may be uncomfortable for you, and that she felt bad you even had to deal with it during the ceremony, but you made a promise to her. You were her maid-of-honor for a reason, and part of your duty was to help with the post-ceremony tasks to ensure that Shoko can focus on enjoying her pre and post-wedding activities. 

So, in some ways, you felt obliged to stay. You didn’t need to interact much with others during your stay, anyway. You were content staying in your room, perhaps taking some occasional walks outside. Satoru could do whatever he wanted with Akemi; you were determined to avoid crossing their paths.

Besides, inside the cabin was a cozy retreat. The main living area featured large windows that framed the picturesque view, allowing moonlight to spill in and illuminate the space. A stone fireplace, complete with a rustic mantel adorned with pinecones and candles, stood as the centerpiece of the room. Plush armchairs and a worn leather sofa invited relaxation, while a handwoven rug added a touch of warmth and color.

As you moved towards the bedroom, you found a comfortable queen-sized bed covered in a soft, plaid quilt. The scent of pine mingled with the faint aroma of fresh linens, creating an atmosphere of peaceful haven. An old-fashioned dresser and a bedside table, topped with a simple lamp, completed the room. The windows here, too, offered a glimpse of the sparkling lake, ensuring that the beauty of nature would greet you each morning.

Stepping outside, you walked down a short path to the water’s edge, where a small wooden dock extended into the lake. A pair of Adirondack chairs sat invitingly at the end of the dock, perfect for soaking in the sunset or stargazing at night. Nearby, a fire pit surrounded by stones and logs as seating promised cozy evenings under the stars, with the gentle sound of lapping water providing a soothing backdrop.

On your first night there, you ended up falling asleep right away. The physical and emotional exhaustion, combined with jetlag, knocked you out. However, the next day promised a few tasks to complete the post-wedding cleanup. 

The second night, however, was a different story.

When you returned to the cabin, the cool evening air was crisp against your skin. The temperature went down a couple of celsius compared to yesterday, so as you walked down the path toward the lakeside, you were drawn to the flickering glow of a fire pit illuminating the area near the water’s edge. Drawing closer, the soft sounds of laughter and conversation reached your ears, mingling with the gentle crackle of burning logs.

The fire pit was surrounded by a group, their faces lit by the warm, golden light of the flames. They sat on a circle of logs and foldable chairs, leaning in to feel the comforting heat. Some held mugs of steaming cocoa, while others toasted marshmallows on long sticks, their tips glowing bright orange before transforming into gooey, sugary treats.

You paused for a moment and took in the scene. Was it a safe space for you to be in? You noticed familiar faces among the group—some of the couple’s old friends from the wedding, now relaxed and enjoying the peaceful night. One of the guests strummed a guitar softly, the melody adding to the cozy, inviting atmosphere. Another guest told a story, their animated expressions and gestures causing bursts of laughter from the listeners.

There was no sight of Satoru and Akemi. Perhaps, it might be okay to join in.

As you approached, Suguru emerged from a nearby cabin, smiling in a way that felt unusual. Why was he being friendly all of a sudden? Last time you checked, he still held a grudge against you. But now, he showed no signs of antagonism, and was even approaching you with his usual friendly demeanor.

“Y/N,” he said, the fog of his breath visible in the cold air, “I never got to thank you properly for helping us with everything here. I didn’t think you’d make it last minute.”

You wrapped your shawl tighter around yourself to ward off the chill. “It’s no trouble. I’m glad to help out and be here for you guys,” you replied warmly. And while glancing around, you noticed the absence of Shoko. “Where’s the missus?”

Suguru’s smile took on a mischievous edge. “Sleeping. She’s still pretty tired and…”

You interrupted him with a laugh, catching onto his suggestive tone. “Alright, you two. You’re wild.”

His grin softened into a sincere expression. “No, seriously. I never got to properly thank you. I never got to apologize to you either.” Suguru looked down with guilt. “I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. I was focusing too much on Satoru’s point-of-view, dismissing how it must be like to be in your position amidst all that mess. Shoko helped me understand why you made certain decisions, why you had no other option. She helped me see things from your perspective, to realize the extent of your suffering. We all knew that, I guess. We all knew you were constantly dealt a bad hand, yet you remain kind and resilient. You continue to show empathy to others, even when the world hasn’t been fair to you.”

In the ensuing silence, your heart seemed to thunder in your chest. His words carried weight far beyond what he might have intended, and you genuinely appreciated his apology. Even if he didn’t need to say them. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’re a gem, Y/N.” Suguru gave your back a gentle pat. “You deserve to be happy in your own special way. And just like how you wished us well with our marriage, I hope you’ll find your own path to a happy marriage, too.” 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down with a forlorn smile. 

“We’re here for you, okay?” he offered, “Shoko and I. You can count on us if you need us, if you need help with Sachiro, if you need help with life in general.” 

“I appreciate it, really.” 

And by then, he cleared his throat, opening up a topic that caught you off guard. You didn’t expect it from Suguru out of all people. “Y/N, I know why you were in Monaco.” 

Of course. He’d know it from Shoko. 

“I also know,” he continued, dark narrow eyes staring straight at yours, “why you left Sachiro with his father.” 

You were a deer caught in the headlights. You wouldn’t say it felt invasive to have someone be aware of the reasoning behind your personal decisions, but it was just an altogether different feeling to know that it was your ex-husband’s best friend who knew. 

“Why didn’t you tell him?” he asked, referring to Satoru, “That you broke up with Toji?” 

You took a deep breath. “I don’t see the point of telling him.”

“What if I were to tell you that he’d come running desperately to you the moment he finds out?” he posed another burning question. “You still love him, right? You and him would likely get together without much difficulty if he were aware. So, why hesitate?”

“Because I don’t want that,” you answered, feeling words caught in your throat in a moment of vulnerability. “Because I’m scared to get back with him. Because he has Akemi now. Because I don’t wanna keep ruining the lives of the people around me. We’re better off this way, Suguru. I don’t want to mess up the second time around, and I definitely don’t think Satoru would be able to fully move on with his life with me still in the picture. He seems to be happy with Akemi already.” 

Suguru smiled sadly. “You don’t even wanna get your revenge? Don’t wanna get back at your best friend for dating your ex?” he paused to correct himself, “Well, dating is the wrong term. Satoru insists they’re not exclusive, you know?” 

You shook your head, sighing. Satoru, you haven’t changed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine with the way things are.” 

He was on the verge of continuing, poised to persuade further, but the arrival of the very individuals in question brought an abrupt halt to his words. Descending the cabin steps was Shoko, trailed by Satoru, who, in a gesture of warmth, had draped his jacket around Akemi, with his arms encircling her.

All five of you found yourselves in an awkward situation, now faced with two couples, one of which was at the core of your distress. The tension was palpable, and it didn’t help that Satoru’s vivid blue eyes met yours, seemingly trying to decode the conversation between you and Suguru. That was none of his business. He could continue his affectionate display with Akemi, while you had other matters to attend to than be part of an awkward quintet.

“I should go,” you declared, avoiding eye contact with everyone, unwilling to play the fifth wheel. You were hoping to evade Satoru and Akemi’s presence, but both Shoko and Suguru already caught your arm. 

“Y/N, please,” Shoko urged, her arm reaching out to you. “Don't isolate yourself tonight. Come join us.”

The memory of Bora Bora flooded your mind, a painful reminder of a similar situation when Shoko had extended the same invitation, leading to the discomfort of witnessing Sera’s closeness with Satoru. You knew that wasn’t Shoko’s intention, but it was your ex-husband who couldn’t stop catching himself in these situations. 

This was a bad idea. You knew that. 

So, why did you agree? 

Despite your reservations, curiosity got the best of you. You would vehemently deny it if asked, but deep down, you pondered whether Suguru’s words held any truth about Satoru’s lingering feelings for you. It wasn’t out of pettiness, but rather a desire to confirm if Satoru was truly committed to Akemi. You knew this could potentially hurt you, but after enduring so much pain, you couldn’t imagine anything worse.

“Hey, you guys!” 

“It’s nice of you to join us!” 

“What’s up newlyweds?” 

Upon joining the group at the fireplace, you were partly grateful that you weren’t exactly a fifth wheel in the situation. There were about ten or twelve people in total, with the earlier group still remaining in their seats. It just so happened that you were seated right across your ex-husband, who was too busy trying to keep Akemi warm and cozy. 

“So, Y/N…” spoke a man from the group, who appeared to be Suguru’s colleague. “Are you single?” 

The unexpected question caught you off guard, especially the tension it seemed to create, particularly with Satoru who sat stiffly next to Akemi. Even Shoko and Suguru seemed apologetic for their friend’s behavior, but you brushed it off, recognizing that he had probably indulged a bit too much with beer. He was harmless enough when sober.

“Don’t be asking questions like that,” Suguru intervened, tapping the back of his friend’s head in a playful scold. “That’s rude.” 

The friend protested, still oblivious to the discomfort he had caused. “I was just asking! She’s attractive. I have the right to know.”

You forced a smile, accepting the can of beer he had offered. “Thanks, but I—”

“Even if she’s single, she’s not interested in you,” Shoko chimed in, keeping a casual mien. She had to keep things cool, especially with an explosive Gojou around. You were just thankful that she didn’t exactly reveal the status of your relationship with Toji, and that she was doing her best to divert the attention away from you. 

In this little scene, you caught a glimpse of Akemi tugging at Satoru’s arm, like she was uncomfortable with the conversation. Why? Did it trigger an insecurity within her? She couldn’t even return eye-contact, constantly avoiding your eyes and reacting to any conversation remotely related to you. But Satoru was there acting like a concerned boyfriend, whispering reassurance into her ear, and rubbing her knee in a comforting fashion. 

“You two make a lovely couple,” remarked one of the girls, directing her compliment to Satoru and Akemi.“Weren’t you the girl who caught the bouquet? Looks like there might be another wedding on the horizon.”

“Oooh!” 

“They’re an attractive couple, too.” 

“You guys planning for any children?” 

Just like Bora Bora. A bitter smile lingered on your face, but you decided not to look at Satoru anymore. He must be enjoying this. 

Shoko leaned in and placed an arm around you to whisper her apologies. “I’m sorry, Y/N. This was a bad idea.” 

“It’s okay,” you assured, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I’ll leave after I finish my beer so it won’t be awkward.” 

As the night wore on, conversation flowed easily at first, with everyone exchanging stories and laughter, and eventually more beers and liquor were passed around. Shoko and Suguru were lost in the glow of newlywed bliss, while you found yourself increasingly uneasy as memories of the past mingled with the present.

Satoru’s presence beside Akemi was a constant reminder of your failed marriage, and you struggled to suppress the weakness in your chest that threatened to surface. They held hands and watched the fire together, her head resting on his shoulder, his lips on top of her head. She was trying to voice out a specific concern to him, and he was sweetly listening to her. Did they even realize the ex-wife was in the same area with them? It was insensitive. You never knew Satoru could be this insensitive around you, no matter what his reasons were, his romantic gestures towards her was a clear slap to your face. And he succeeded, because you would be foolish not to admit that it broke your heart in half to witness him choosing another woman over you. 

Again, Satoru. Here we go again. You tried to stop the pounding on your chest. Here we fucking are the second time around. 

Desperate to ease the tension, Shoko and Suguru attempted to steer the conversation toward lighter topics, but their efforts only served to highlight the underlying tension in the air. You forced a smile and nodded along with the conversation, but inside, your heart was heavy with unresolved emotions.

And then someone had to bring up that stupid truth or dare game. 

“Satoru-kun, I dare you to kiss the prettiest woman in this group.” 

“Whoo! Do it! Do it! Do it!” 

Satoru was initially hesitant as he clearly found himself at a crossroads. He had two options here. Should he risk hurting Akemi by refusing to kiss her? Or should he risk hurting you by kissing another woman in front of you?

The clear winner was Akemi, because as soon as Gojou pressed his lips onto hers, you were already walking out of there. You had already excused yourself from the group, your footsteps as heavy as your heart. And unbeknownst to you, Satoru watched you go with a flicker of remorse in his eyes, but it was too late for apologies or second chances. The fire continued to crackle and pop as you left, its flames casting long shadows across the empty space where you had sat.

It was game over. Satoru had won his game. 

— —

Satoru was puzzled by your behavior since the wedding. You seemed determined to avoid him, which made sense with Akemi constantly by his side, but there was also an air of desperation to your avoidance. What baffled him even more was the jealousy you exhibited, as if you weren’t involved with another man, to the point where you even flew to another country just to spend more time with him. 

Like you said, you two were no longer married. It was about time you moved on. Yet, how come you were acting heartbroken over seeing Satoru with another woman?

Did you really think leaving the fire pit so abruptly had gone unnoticed?

Did you really think he had taken his eyes off you?

If not for Akemi telling him that she was having pelvic cramps, Gojou would have run off to follow you the minute you left the fire pit. Clearly, you still had an issue seeing him with another girl and he wanted you to voice it out. But if there was anything he learned during your time together, you would never be the first one to admit that you were jealous. Heck, didn’t you even allow him to bring Sera to Bora Bora that one time?

Look, he didn’t want to hurt you all over again. And if you had walked up to him and called him an asshole for having Akemi around, he would even agree with you. But it was your decision to choose Toji, it was your request for Satoru to find someone else, so why did it seem like you were suddenly changing your mind?

“I’m sorry for being a party pooper,” Akemi groaned in discomfort as Gojou helped her back to their cabin. He quickly refocused on their conversation, reminding himself not to dwell on thoughts of you when Akemi needed his attention—it wouldn’t be fair to her. She was suffering from a terrible illness that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone and he had to be her rock. “It’s been hurting quite a bit lately. I really should start with my treatment.”

Once inside their room, he swiftly settled her into bed. “Where does it hurt?” He applied a gentle touch to her pelvic bone, massaging the area to alleviate her discomfort. “Here?”

“Mhm. Thank you,” she lightly spoke, her soft hand caressing his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

“You look really pale, though. I’m worried,” he remarked, sympathizing with her. Her complexion betrayed the pain she was holding back, though she likely hesitated to admit she wanted to go home and rest. “Do you wanna go home? Even if it’s in the middle of the night, I can have my driver pick us up.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, no. Please, I'll be fine. You won't get to see Shoko and Suguru for a while once they’re on their honeymoon, so I want you to spend time with them here.”

“You sure? But you always come first.” 

“I’ll be okay.” 

As Satoru continued to massage the area where Akemi felt pain, his thoughts inevitably drifted to you. He recalled the time when you were pregnant with Sachiro, experiencing frequent lower abdominal pain as your body adjusted to the baby. Each night, Satoru stayed up, gently rubbing your belly until you drifted off to sleep. It was one of his happiest memories during your marriage—the domestic bliss of being your husband and the memory of him caring for his wife. He wasn’t sure if he was missing it, or if he was just recalling a past memory, but looking at Akemi, Satoru wondered if he was prepared to have all that again but with another woman. 

He couldn’t give himself an answer. 

“I’m such a terrible person.” 

He should be telling himself that, but it was Akemi who said those words out loud as her brown doe-eyes stared at him solemnly, an expression that reflected guilt and remorse in equal measure. 

“How come?” Satoru’s voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, gently tucking the sheets around her while perching on the edge of the bed.

Her smile held a touch of sorrow, yet there was a glimmer of relief in her eyes. “I feel like I’ve failed Y/N. She treated me like family, like a sister, and now I can’t even face her properly. I’m just terrified, you know? I don’t want to keep letting her down. I never meant to cause her pain.”

For a moment, Gojou fell silent at her admission. “It’s all my fault. You two never would have been in this position if it wasn’t for me.” 

“Absolutely not,” Akemi persisted before leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his cheek. “Tonight, you’ve shown me that you’ve truly moved on from her. I was starting to worry, afraid that I could never fill the space she held in your heart. But since the wedding, you’ve never sidelined me or made me feel like an afterthought. You’ve never made me feel like second best. You’ve always prioritized me. I understand it’s hard seeing your ex-wife, but I appreciate your efforts more than you know. You make me feel incredibly special.”

Satoru swallowed hard. The mention of your name sent a pang of guilt coursing through his chest. He knew he had hurt Akemi with his lingering attachment to his past and his inability to fully let go of the woman who had once held his heart in her hands. He wanted to agree with Akemi, to reassure her that he had chosen her, but the truth remained elusive, buried beneath layers of denial and self-deception. He even had to close his eyes for a minute, unable to meet her gaze as a tumult of conflicting emotions swirled within him. He wanted to tell her the truth, to confess the depth of his feelings for his ex-wife, but the words were caught in his throat.

In that moment, Satoru felt more lost and alone than ever before, trapped in a web of his own making, and unable to confront the truth behind his true feelings. Moved on? Had he truly moved on from you, or had he simply buried his feelings beneath a facade of indifference?

“You should rest your eyes,” was the only thing he could tell her, planting a kiss on her forehead before he had turned off the lights. 

With the clock ticking past 11 o’clock and their recent conversation still echoing in his mind, Satoru felt an urgent need for clarity. He knew he had to confront his thoughts alone. So, without disturbing Akemi’s peaceful slumber, he quietly slipped out of the cabin, seeking solace in the night air. Immediately, as he got out, he was met with the apologetic eyes of his best friend. 

“Hey,” Satoru greeted, confused by the urgency in Suguru’s expression. “What’s up?” 

Suguru took a deep breath before he rubbed the back of his head. “There’s something I ought to tell you.” 

�� —

You had been standing at the edge of the lake for a while now, the cool night air sending shivers down your spine as you gazed out at the shimmering expanse of water before you. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the tranquil scene, its soft light dancing on the surface of the lake like a thousand tiny stars.

The temptation to dive into the dark waters below tugged at your heart like a siren’s song, beckoning you to leave behind the pain and sorrow that had plagued you for so long. You longed to feel the icy embrace of the lake envelop you, to lose yourself in its depths and wash away the memories that haunted you every waking moment.

Is this how it feels like to finally let go? 

As you stood on the shore, your toes just inches from the water’s edge, a wave of despair then washed over you, threatening to pull you under like the undertow of a riptide. You thought of Sachiro, your sweet, innocent son, asleep in his bed back in Tokyo, his laughter and smiles serving as an antidote to the pain in your heart.

And then him… 

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you thought of Satoru. Despite the pain he had caused you, it was impossible not to yearn for him still, because his memory was a ghost that haunted you in every waking moment. But you knew that you couldn’t continue to live in the shadow of your past marriage. You had to escape being trapped in a cycle of longing and regret. You owed it to Sachiro to be strong, to find the courage to let go of the man who had once been your everything.

With your empty gaze, the calm lake shimmered in the moonlight like a blanket of liquid silver. You had come to the lake seeking solace, seeking escape from the unbearable pain that gnawed at your heart like a relentless tide. But as tears left your eyes, your emotions threatened to drown you in a sea of despair. 

Without hesitation, you dropped your shawl to the side, shedding yourself off of the cloth with a sense of reckless abandon. The fright of swimming in open water, especially at night, could have you passed out in a matter of seconds, but you paid it no mind as you waded into the water. 

Is this how it feels to finally give up? 

The lake embraced you like an old friend, enfolding you in its cool embrace as you swam out into the darkness. Each stroke brought you closer to the center of the lake, closer to the heart of your pain, and yet you felt strangely at peace, as if the water itself held the key to your salvation. You took time floating on your back, staring up at the stars that glittered like diamonds in the night sky, you felt a sense of clarity wash over you. You knew that your love for Satoru was a burden you could no longer bear.

But more than that, you knew that you couldn’t let your own pain dictate the course of your son’s life. Sachiro deserved better than a mother consumed by sorrow, better than a life overshadowed by the ghosts of the past.

With a deep breath, you let go of the pain that had held you captive for so long. You submerged yourself into the depths of the lake, watching as the night sky vanished beneath the surface like a wisp of smoke in the wind.

In that moment, you felt a sense of freedom unlike anything you had ever known. You just had to stay still. You had to keep yourself underwater, hold your breath until you no longer needed it, and… 

And…

You struggled to breathe, your mind consumed in panic telling you that you would die if you had kept yourself submerged for another minute, but you were adamant on staying there. You fought battles in your own mind, despite your body fighting back to keep you alive. 

At least soon, you would finally meet your mom again. 

“...”

“......”

“....Y/N!” 

“.......Y/N!” 

Feeling your vision blur and your limbs growing limp, you surrendered to the natural sway of the water. Bubbles escaped from your nose, your mouth tightly sealed shut. And the next thing you knew, you were back on the water surface, drawing breath like a fish out of the water. You could feel someone tugging at your arm, could feel the presence of another person dragging you out of the water, his arms pulling you into an embrace. 

“Y/N! What the hell are you thinking?!” 

You sobbed uncontrollably, your heartache pouring out as Satoru cradled you in his arms, his white hair damp from his efforts to rescue you from the water. How and when did he arrive? Your mind couldn’t process the details amidst the turmoil. All you could do was surrender to the flood of tears, feeling paralyzed from head to toe as you cried into his embrace.

Is this another dream? 

Is this another hallucination? 

You released a bitter laugh. Please. You closed your eyes, laughing and crying like a mad person. Please stop the pain. 

“Y/N, please,” his whispers were tender, yet tinged with a sorrow that amplified your heartache. “What about Sachiro?” He, too, shed his own tears, his ocean-blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight as they filled with tears, his voice breaking. “What about me?”

Your face was pressed against his chest, anguish coursing through you, feeling as if your very soul was being torn asunder. “Th-That’s the... the same thing... I’ve been asking myself,” you managed between sobs, struggling to draw a steady breath. “I’m... I’m always th-thinking about other people... and never myself.”

He fell silent, his response lost in the weight of your words, perhaps laden with guilt or his own sorrow. But his presence there, holding you close, as if he still harbored love for you, tore another piece from your already battered heart. He shouldn’t be here. He should have been with Akemi. He should be anywhere but near you. With a surge of adrenaline, you began to push him away, propelling yourself through the water, racing toward the shore despite the weakness in your limbs. Satoru called out your name, his voice a desperate plea, as he followed after you, his movements slower but filled with urgency.

“Stop!” Your voice rose, echoing against the night as you stood on the shore, water cascading from your body in sync with the tears streaming down your face. “L-Leave me alone... Please. Why are you here?”

You knew Satoru well enough to understand what had driven him to chase after you. Perhaps he had grown concerned, either from noticing your absence or from someone informing him of your uncharacteristic nighttime swim. His actions were undoubtedly unusual; he knew all too well of your fear of open water, prompting him to leap into action to rescue you.

But you didn’t need him to be here. You didn’t need him anywhere. He wasn’t yours anymore. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice carrying the weight of confusion and concern, his steps cautious as he approached you. He looked at you with tears in his eyes, his expression vulnerable and pleading, like a child seeking comfort, desperately hoping to be understood, to be heard. “You’re not with Toji anymore.”

“Why should I?” You struggled to compose yourself, wiping away the tears that blurred your vision. “It doesn’t matter—”

“It fucking matters, Y/N!”

“It shouldn’t matter!” Your voice cracked with emotion, your heart pounding painfully against your ribs. “Why should it matter, huh?”

“Because I love you!” His words echoed through the night, raw with emotion that had never been confronted until now. “Because I can’t fucking get over you. Because I’m a fool for you!”

You pushed him away, a surge of anger and hurt rising within you. “H-How dare you,” you choked out, your fists trembling as you struck his chest. “How dare you say that to me when you’re with someone else! You n-never truly loved me, Satoru. Y-You never did!”

“You wanted me to find someone new, Y/N,” his voice cracked with emotion, pained by his own words, “I just did what you asked me to do, even if that wasn’t what I truly wanted.” 

You vehemently denied his assertion in your mind, shaking your head in refusal. “Stop saying that. Just stop. Please.”

He already had his grip on your hand, pulling you closer. “Y/N—”

You jerked your hand away sharply, but then a wave of despair washed over you. “Every time I see you with her, I convince myself that I’m fine with it, that this is what I wanted, what I chose.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you recalled every heartbreak. “I tell myself that I deserve it, that you deserve to be with someone who can make you happier. But then I remember our past…” You paused, closing your eyes to stem the tears. “And then I compare it to your relationship with her now. I can’t help but wonder, why didn’t I receive that kind of love and respect from the beginning? Why did it take me nearly drowning in an ocean for you to realize and try to make things right three years ago?”

His grip on your hand tightened, as if he wanted to hold onto you and never let go, as if he wanted to reassure you with his touch that he was there, listening, understanding, feeling every word you uttered.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the crashing waves and the heavy weight of your emotions. “I’m sorry for everything I did wrong, for every moment I failed to show you the love and respect you deserved, Y/N.”

You hated it. You hated hearing his words now, because it was three years all too late. You had already gone through so much suffering, so much anguish that you didn’t deserve, just because you wanted a happy marriage. Just because you wanted to love and be loved. By him. By the person you married. 

“It d-doesn’t change anything,” you murmured, your voice breaking with sorrow. “I can’t undo the pain, the heartache. I can’t erase the memories.”

“I know,” he replied softly, his eyes filled with remorse. “But let’s try again. Let me try again, Y/N. Please.”

You wanted to believe him, to believe that he meant every word, that he was sincere in his intentions. But the wounds of the past were still fresh, and the memories of betrayal were still lingering in your mind.

“You know what hurts me more?” you asked, “It’s the fact that you didn’t lose your memories of me, but you still ended up falling for her,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru’s silence felt like a confirmation to you. Perhaps he had indeed fallen in love with Akemi, and you were the obstacle standing in the way of his complete commitment to her. You were just a relic of his past, a piece that he needed to discard in order to embrace his future with Akemi. It seemed that fate had already decided that you and Satoru would never find happiness together, and this should serve as nothing more than a closure. 

But god be damned, it was tearing you apart. 

You tugged at the necklace around your neck, the pendant bearing half of his heart, and in your trembling hand, you ripped it off. As painful as it was, your next action was to hurl it into the darkness of the lake, discarding the last remnant that linked him to you, watching as it disappeared beneath the surface of the lake with a soft splash.

You know the difference between us, Satoru? You thought silently. I dove into the ocean just to find our wedding ring, but you would never plunge into that lake to retrieve that necklace.

With determined steps, you turned away before he could react, walking away from that place, walking away from him. You resolved that this would be your final encounter with Satoru Gojou in your lifetime, because there was no need for him in your life, just as he no longer needed you in his. You two would remain in the past, a memory best left behind.

This was you letting him go. 

But then, just as you were about to walk away, you heard a faint noise from the darkness behind you—a splash, followed by the sound of another frantic splashing.

Your heart pounded heavily in your chest. You turned back toward the lake, your eyes widening in shock as you saw Satoru thrashing in the water, his arms flailing as he searched desperately for the necklace you had thrown away.

“Satoru, you idiot!” you cried out, your voice filled with disbelief and concern and pain and overwhelming heartache. Without a second thought, you ran back to the cold water, your feet sinking into the soft sand as you waded into the lake. “Satoru, what are you doing?!” you called out again, your heart racing as you reached out to him, your fingers brushing against his arm as he struggled to stay afloat.

“I have to find it,” Satoru gasped, his voice strained with exertion. “I have to find the necklace you threw.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his eyes, seeing the desperation and determination that burned within them. You knew then that you couldn’t let him risk his life for a piece of jewelry, no matter how sentimental it may be.

“Satoru, please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s not worth it. Let it go—”

But Satoru shook his head, his gaze fixed on the dark waters below. “I have to find it," he insisted, his eyes tearful. “It’s my heart. I gave it to you.”

 I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. 

The tension between you crackled like electricity in the air. In that moment, all of your walls came crashing down, your heart laid bare before the man you had once loved with all your soul.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you reached out and pulled Satoru into your arms, your lips meeting his in a desperate, longing kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of pent-up emotion, a bittersweet union of love and pain that left you both breathless and raw. Your lips moved together in a tender dance, each kiss a silent plea for forgiveness, for understanding, for a second chance at the love you had lost. It was a kiss that spoke of regrets and what-ifs, of dreams left unfulfilled and promises broken.

For years, you had been strangers, your hearts closed off to each other in an attempt to shield yourselves from the pain of your past. But in that moment, as you clung to each other in the darkness, you couldn’t deny the truth that still lingered between you—that your love for each other had never truly died.

As you finally pulled apart, gasping for air, you looked into Satoru’s eyes, seeing the depth of his pain mirrored in your own. “I hate you,” you whispered, your voice laced with grief and surrender, "so much."

Satoru reached out and brushed a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and tender. “I hate me, too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes shining with guilt, “for hurting you.”

You couldn’t erase the past, nor could you predict the future. But as you stood together in the middle of the lake, your hearts entwined once more, you found solace in the simple act of being together, of sharing your pain and your love in the darkness of the night. And as you held each other tight, the gravity of your connection pulled you to kiss him again. 

Once more, you met his lips in a deeper kiss. His lips moved in perfect sync with yours, and the taste of his tongue was met with the familiarity you two shared. It was as if your bodies were moving on its own, and you allowed it to dictate whatever action it desired. Forget everything for now, was all you could think of in your head. In your mind, it was all Satoru. It was the man you love. The man you married. The man you share a child with. 

You were too engrossed with the feeling of his lips that you didn’t even realize he had your legs wrapped around his waist. And with your arms around his neck, you could feel him lift you up, never breaking the kiss as he carried you out of the lake. With each step he took, your kiss only got deeper and deeper. You had never felt such intensity throughout your marriage, and you were intoxicated by the feeling of kissing him again. 

Of feeling his lips around your jawline. Your neck. Your chest. You were gasping on his mouth, had his lips completely enveloped with yours, not realizing you were stumbling inside your cabin, desperate to find somewhere to lay on. 

And before you knew it, the night had played way differently than expected.

Both your wet clothes were on the floor in a tangle of fabric, forgotten in the heat of your passion. And now, with your bare body on top of him. His arms caressed the smooth skin of your back, his lips feathering kisses along your bust. As you moved your hips slowly, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips. Satoru’s member was warm inside you. Your bodies were tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking in the dimly lit room. And when you pulled away, your eyes were locked in a silent exchange of yearning.

Without a word, Satoru reached out and gently cupped your breast, his touch sending electricity down your spine. You leaned into his touch, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt the heat of his body pressing against yours.

Your lips met once more, a tender exploration of each other’s mouths, and he was taking that chance to shift the position you were in. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he began to enter you again. You were whimpering under him, melting into his passionate movements. You have had sex with Satoru multiple times before, but it was never this emotional. It was never this passionate. You could feel the difference with the way he kissed you, with the way he looked at you, with the way he touched you. 

“S-Satoru��!” 

“Mmm… I missed you so fucking much, Y/N.”

And then, finally, you came together in a flurry of hands and lips and skin, your bodies melding into one as you gave yourselves over to the exquisite pleasure of your lovemaking. 

At that exact moment, as you moved together in perfect harmony, you knew that you were home.

— —

When Akemi woke up, she could tell something felt wrong. 

It didn’t help that Satoru was not by her side as she opened her eyes, blinded by the sunlight that peeked through the window. Was he out for a morning run? Or perhaps he was indulging in a leisurely bath? She entertained the idea of joining him, wanting to express her gratitude for his care and support.

Her heart swelled with love for him, despite all the risks and uncertainties. He was her rock, her confidant, her everything. In him, she found solace and strength, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him. Despite the troubles of his past, she felt blessed to have crossed paths with him. She longed for the kind of deep connection and lasting commitment that she saw in others’ marriages, a dream she harbored for her own future. And in Satoru, she saw the perfect partner to share that dream with, to build a family and a life together that she had always yearned for.

Akemi wasn’t ashamed by how smitten she was with him. In fact, she was beginning to have more confidence in her decision to pursue a relationship with him. She just hoped you would understand, that you would eventually let go of the grudge in your heart. At the end of the day, she wasn’t trying to hurt you. She was only trying to pursue her happiness. 

And the exact source of her happiness was someone she endeavored to find that morning. She put on a robe and searched every room in the cabin, calling out for his name, wondering why she couldn’t hear his voice. 

With no response forthcoming, Akemi decided to exit the cabin in search of Satoru. Assuming he had likely been with Suguru all night, she scanned the vicinity, expecting to spot his tall, white-haired figure. Yet, after several minutes of fruitless searching, she couldn’t find him and instead, encountered a hotel staff member. That was when she decided to finally inquire about his whereabouts.

“Excuse me,” she began, halting the staff member’s stride, “Have you seen my boyfriend? He’s tall, with white hair and blue eyes.”

“Ah, Mr. Gojou?” the hotel staff responded, scratching her head as realization dawned. She then gestured toward the last place Akemi wished him to be. “Um, I think he’s in there.”

Akemi’s heart raced as if she had seen a ghost. Her complexion drained of color, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized that the cabin she had been directed to was yours. And in a twist of fate, just as she stood there in shock, the man she loved emerged from the cabin, equally wide-eyed.

“‘Kemi…” he began, frozen in place, “Let’s talk first—”

But she cut him off with a scoff. Her hands trembled with a tumult of emotions—anger, pain, and betrayal—threatening to overwhelm her. She was on the verge of collapse, her mind reeling with questions. Was he going to explain his actions? No, there was only one question that demanded an answer.

“Did you… did you do it?” she asked through gritted teeth, her voice laced with accusation.

Satoru didn’t need to respond. As Akemi pushed the door open, her worst fears were confirmed as she saw you standing behind him, draped in nothing but a blanket. Tears welled in her eyes, and before she could think, her body reacted, her hand connecting with Gojou’s cheek in a resounding slap.

“You never changed!” she cried out, her voice cracking with anguish. “You’re still a cheater!”

Satoru struggled to deflect each fist she hurled at him, but her rage and despair overwhelmed any attempt to reason with her. She was consumed by her pain and the looming betrayal she anticipated, unable to comprehend that her worst fears were coming true before her eyes.

“‘Kemi, please,” Satoru pleaded in vain.

“...Akemi, I'm sorry,” you interjected, your voice heavy with remorse as you wiped your tears. “It’s not his fault. It’s mine.”

Upon hearing your words, Akemi erupted. She disregarded your friendship, cast aside your shared memories, and denied that she had ever considered you a friend. Her tear-filled eyes bore into you with accusation. “Y-You,” she began, her voice choking with sobs, “You’re a hypocrite, Y/N!”

You remained silent, absorbing her words.

Akemi pressed on with her onslaught. “You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married,” she accused, recalling the anguish you endured during Gojou’s affair. “You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me,” she paused, betrayed by the anguish in her voice, “Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”

She fled before she could hear your response, but Satoru’s whispered apology lingered in the air, unclear of who its intended recipient was. At that moment, she didn’t care anymore. She raced back to her cabin, tears streaming down her face as she hastily packed her belongings.

She moved mechanically, tossing her belongings into her luggage while grappling with the overwhelming pain of his infidelity. Try as she might to focus on the task at hand, her tears flowed freely, and she surrendered to her grief, cradling her face in her hands.

Amidst her anguish, she couldn’t ignore the escalating pain in her pelvic region, a physical echo of the agony in her heart. Each sob seemed to intensify both sensations, leaving her feeling utterly shattered.

With that confrontation, Satoru faced a pivotal choice: to stay with you or to pursue Akemi. 

While Akemi had anticipated that he might choose you, she was taken aback when she swung the door open,

bags in hand, 

only to find Satoru Gojou standing on her doorstep.

[missfertileandferal]

lowkey super anxious to post this but im missing you guys so much <3

i plan on a solid return soon! i just wanted to get off my chest whats been going on:

Earlier this year, I dealt with an awful situation of my kinky stuff leaking into real life. My insane coworkers found my content and as I was serving on the clock, proceeded to show my customers and all the staff. then i was fired. Im traumatized to say the least but I over came it.

Come mid summer, I planned so step back for a little bit to move apartments no more than a couple weeks. What happened was both my job (i worked with close family friends so stressful) and a really bad situation with a companion found about my kink stuff. i never expected or was prepared for the humiliation, deception, and pain that would come from my fetish journey

My last job was such a loss. I had been blessed with a cute job as a medical office assistant without any credentials (i wasnt doing anything out of my capabilities of course) it was so peaceful and perfect compared to the drama of my last gig plus working with familiar people felt just like home honestly. Then I got covid. I was out for 2 weeks, at the same time i was moving into my new place. I tried calling them back to let them know I was cleared and ready to get back to work. I received a humiliating text. I was dismissed. That turned into a crippling anxiety of them confessing to my family what I do in my past time

The following week I was met with more disappointment. Ive said this before but I dont have many people in my corner. It used to suck to admit but I stand with pride now knowing those who are around me love me 100% regardless what I do or dont do.

One of my dearest dearest friends, who I had previously communicated what I do (not to a full extent they always respected it) called me very dramatically only a week before I planned to see them (they live across the country and we ALWAYS visit each other when in our cities) It still doesnt feel real tbh, the call only last 40 seconds. I was informed that “I was going on the wrong path” and could no longer be associated with. That’s alls that happened. 8 years down the drain

I was informed by outside sources that my hometown opps had gotten hold of my content (who my ex friend still associate with but I despise bc they’ve always been obsessed with me but in a bad way) and they had confronted him about being my friend. he pussied out and cut me off. they also mass reported my last instagram account😡🤬

I had to take some time back to seriously debate if these loses were worth it. I was swallowed with so much anxiety knowing that an uncomfortable amount of people in my zip code knew what ive been up to. its already complicated being into this and while at the same time not being in a plus size body. thats another conversation tho

That debate has turned into me accepting these events as the universe weeding out people/things that no longer serve me. This has shown peoples true colors, if I am not to be associated with because of my sexual freedom, body acceptance, and undoing of fat phobia then PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE.

Im recovering ❤️‍🩹 but my heart and hedonism can’t be helped. i love being a kinky lil gut slut. its helped me grow in so many ways from acceptance to living an esoteric dreamy life. i love all the hot girls and guys that i see on my timeline. they hype me up and vise versa. i love this little corner of the internet. my fellow freaks keep me going. i’ve been so on and off online but every time i come back to the sweetest words and support. thank you guys for your patience and consideration

my anxiety is to the roof as im typing. its crazy that these privacy problems havent been within the actual community. funny. if your still reading this I love you extra. ill be streaming on ig on my comeback day!

new ig acc @missfertileandferal💘

[gyupinkys]

LIKE CRAZY

PARK SEONGHWA X READER

WC: 7.4K

WARNINGS: MURDER, YANDERE, VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC ABUSE, GORE, KIDNAPPING, DRUGGING, SMUT, power imbalance, questionable morals, unprotected sex, rough sex, heavy talks of breeding, creampie, oral, guided masturbation, possessiveness, very inaccurate medical terms idk what i'm talking about, lots of dirty talk, seonghwa is actually crazy...

Synopsis: Park Seonghwa, 25, charged with 10 Counts of second degree murder, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. You find his story hard to believe, seeing through his lies. As a new psychiatrist you're not sure you're ready for the anomaly you're tasked to treat

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the support!!! I love this fic <3

You love your job, you really do but moments like this make you question why you’re here. As you stand in the bathroom of your office cleaning the mashed potatoes your patient threw at you in a manic rage off your face, you question why you do this. As a psychiatrist you pride yourself in your patience, but you can't help but stomp your foot in a mini tantrum. You spent so long doing your makeup this morning and it’s all going to waste. You throw the final wipe in the trash and stare at your reflection. The bags under your eyes are much more prominent than a few days ago. You’ve been up all night trying to prepare yourself for your new patient coming today. Park Seonghwa, 25, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. He claims a “demon” took over his body, subsequently leading him to murdering 15 people across a 1 month killing spree. You don’t buy it. Something about this guy is off and the state made it your job to find out why. Your phone ringing snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Doctor L/N, the patient has arrived, we are transporting him to his room.”

“I’ll be right there.” 

You take a deep breath and walk across the hospital to his room. You expect to hear shuffling and yelling but the room is eerily quiet. The guards in front of the door step aside and let you into the room, keeping a close eye on Seonghwa. 

“Hello Mr.Park, I’m Dr. Y/N L/N, and I will be treating you for your stay here.” you smile at him., surprised by his appearance. 

“Hello, Y/N.” he says, staring up at you from his place on his bed.

His curly black hair and plump lips suit him so well. 

“I hope you adjust well, we’ve been anticipating your arrival. Breakfast begins at 8, so you are expected to be up and ready before then. Lunch is at 2 and dinner is at 7. Your therapy time with me is at 4 Mondays, Wednesday’s, and Fridays. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great” he says with a smile, showcasing his pearly white teeth. 

“I look forward to working with you. My job is to take care of you and I promise to do that.” you smile.

You take a second to look at him, watching the dead look in his eyes. His smile says one thing but his eyes say another. With one last smile you leave the room, almost certain he’ll be causing problems before the night is over. 

_________________________

You come in the next morning and check in with the nurses. Surprisingly there were no issues from Seonghwa, he even took his medication with no complaints. Maybe you had the wrong idea about him. You meet with several of your other patients, thankfully avoiding potatoes in your face again. It's 3pm when you take a break, looking outside your office window. You see him sitting at the edge of the courtyard, eyes fixed up at the sky. Four guards surround him out of precaution, but he seems completely unphased, eyes staring at the clear blue sky.  For someone capable of such evil things he’s beautiful. His curly hair has grown quite long during his time in prison awaiting his trial. His eyes are wide and bright holding so many secrets.  As if he can feel your eyes on him he looks up, directly into your office window somehow making eye contact with you. Your eyes widen and you quickly look away, pretending you weren't staring at him. It’s not uncommon for new patients to stick to themselves, often untrusting of the new environment. You can only hope Seonghwa will begin to trust you so you can treat him, if not you’re not sure what his future might hold.   

_________________________

He is brought to your office at 4 on the dot, accompanied by the four guards assigned to him. He looks rather scared, the new environment keeping him on his toes. You welcome  him with a wide smile that he doesn't return, instead staring straight at your shoes. 

“Hello, Seonghwa.” 

“Hi.” he responds quietly, reminding you of a scared child. You find it in your heart to feel sorry for him. 

“How are you adjusting?”

He shrugs in response, eyes still on the floor. 

“Can you look at me?”

He shakes his head no. 

“Ok, that's fine. I know it’s scary here, I’d also hate to be constantly monitored, but we just want to make sure you’re safe.”

He keeps quiet so you continue. 

“Tell me, do you like the food here?” 

No response. 

“I’ve only tried some of the patient food, well besides when it gets thrown at me. Last week Sandy with the weird haircut threw her potatoes right in my face, I looked like Ms.Doubtfire in that one scene.” you say with a laugh, gauging his reaction. He smirks but remains silent, you decide it might be best if you keep talking in hopes of making him comfortable. 

“I’ve only been working here for about 5 months. I can’t say I’m settled completely. Some patients don’t seem to like me very much, hence the mashed potatoes. But I don’t let that discourage me, I mean if I was in their shoes I wouldn’t want some random lady talking my ear off. Well, I guess that’s what I’m doing now, I’ll shut up.”

He looks up at you with a wide smile, showcasing his perfect teeth. “Don’t stop," he says gently.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into here, I can talk for hours.” you say with a light laugh. 

His eyes widen a bit, he looks at you as if he’s psychoanalyzing you, the roles seemingly reversed. You squirm under his intense stare, deciding to just start talking. 

“How about this? If I tell you one thing about me, you tell me one thing about you?”

“Deal.” he says much quicker than you anticipate making you laugh. You hear his breath hitch, concerned you did something wrong. 

“Are you ok?” 

“I’m fine. Start talking.” 

“Ok, Ok. Hmmmm, Oh how about this, I haven’t finished paying off my student debt.”

“I could pay it off,” he says seriously. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure that violates many rules.”

“I’m not one to worry about rules.” he says with a smile, making your own fall. He quickly reacts, trying to soothe the situation. “That was a joke, I’m joking.” 

“Noted.” you say hesitantly. “Your turn.” 

“I miss my cat.” he says, sadly.

“You have a cat?” you ask in surprise. “I love cats, I have two.”

“Can I see?” he asks, scooching to the front of his seat, making the guards jump hold him back. 

“You guys can relax.” you say and they let go of him.

You grab your phone from your desk, missing the way his eyes drop to your ass. 

“They're named Brad and Chad. And yes I know those are weird names for cats.” you show him the pictures of your cats, seeing his body visibly relax. 

“What’s your cat's name?”  

“Matz.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Girl. I think my friend Hongjoong has her but I’m not sure.” 

“If you give me his last name I can try to find out for you.” you say with a smile.

He leans forward again in excitement. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I know It’ll give you peace of mind.”

“Kim, his last name is Kim.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kim Hongjoong has Matz and says you raised a very disrespectful cat.” you say and slide into the chair across from him in the cafeteria. 

He looks a bit shocked at your presence but he gives you a wide smile when he registers what you said. 

“She was born like that, I had no part in her sassiness.” he laughs. 

“Did he say anything else?”

“He said,  “Don't forget to look at the sky.” and stopped responding after that so do with it as you will.”

“I really appreciate it.” he says and grabs your hand, making the security guards restrain him. 

“It’s ok, let him go.” you sigh, understanding the guard’s worry, but also feeling sympathetic for Seonghwa. 

“I’ll see you around, Seonghwa.”

“Call me Hwa.” he smiles. 

_________________________

Seonghwa has made great progress, now only being followed around by two guards as opposed to four. He’s been much more responsive with you and willing to let you into his mind, but he refuses to talk about the murders. Whenever you attempt to touch on the subject he locks up and asks to leave. You think he needs more time to accept and confront his past. You know prying too much will only erase his progress. You’ve learned so much about him and he’s learned so much about you. He’s so attentive to every word you speak, constantly bringing up small details you forgot you said. You’d be lying if you said it wasn't sweet. Today you decided to try group therapy with him, maybe if he sees someone else sharing he’d be inclined to share as well. You’re also hoping he’s able to make a friend here, since he expressed to you how lonely he’s been feeling. You can see the shock on his face when he walks into your office and see’s San sitting on the couch. He freezes in the threshold of your office, his face morphing into something you’ve never seen before. 

“Who is this?” he asks with venom.

“Hwa, this is San, he’ll be joining us today.”

“Why?”

“I think it’ll be a good change of pace. Now come on in and sit down.”

He slowly walks in, eyes never leaving San. 

“So, I was thinking of doing a joint session today. I think you two can be great friends and what better place to facilitate this friendship than here?”

“I’d rather be your friend, or more than friends if you’re interested.” San says with a smirk.

“San, don’t start.”

“If you show me your tits I’ll stop.”

“I will write you up.” you deadpan. 

He holds his hands up in defeat as you look over to Seonghwa. He’s sitting in his chair with a hard face and tense body. You want him to feel comfortable, understanding why he’s nervous. 

“Hwa, San also loves cats. Why don’t you tell him about Matz?”

“I have a cat named Matz” he whispers, eyes never leaving you.

“I used to have a cat but it died. I was thinking of getting a new one.” San says with a wide smile.

“What kind of cat is your favorite?” Seonghwa asks, seemingly interested. 

“I like cats that are nice and wet, even better if they're tight.” he says with a wide smile, showing off his dimples. “Can I take a look at your cat, Doctor?” 

Before you can respond San’s on the floor, face being beaten in by Seonghwa. 

“HOW ABOUT YOU TREAT HER WITH SOME FUCKING RESPECT.” he yells as his fist fly into San’s jaw. As the guards peel him off San and sedate him he’s staring straight at you, tears in his eyes. 

“I can’t sit here and let him talk to you like that.” he slurs as the sedative takes over his body. 

“Thank you, Hwa.” is the last thing he hears before everything fades to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You did a real number on San.” you say with an awkward laugh at your next session,  trying to make him comfortable. He’s back with four guards after he broke San’s jaw two weeks ago.  He was placed in a higher security ward inorder to avoid more altercations.

“He deserved it.” he whispers with an eye roll.

“Maybe, but we don’t have to solve our problems with violence.”

“I do.”

“Well, If I upset you would you beat the shit out of me?” you ask, trying to prove your point but hoping he will say no.

He leans forward and looks directly into your eyes. “Y/N I will never hurt you. I swear on my life.” 

“That's good to hear” you say with a laugh. 

“Ok, let's begin. I want you to write three things you like here and three things you dislike. I want you to start seeing the good in the bad.”

“Not much to love in this shit hole.” he grumbles.

“Hey, At least the chicken tenders they serve on wednesdays are good.” you joke.

You hand him a piece of paper and a pen, your fingers brushing making you clear your throat. 

“Ok, go ahead.”

“You do it too.” he says with a smirk.

“How about I just write things I do like? ”

“Deal”

You write three things you like:

Chicken tenders 

The sunlight

Seonghwa

“Ok, you share first.” 

He clears his throat. 

“I like my doctor, I like the girl I meet on Monday’s, Wednesday, and Fridays, and I like Y/N.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks tingle. “Well that's definitely something.” you say with a laugh watching his eyes light up. 

You read out your list and watch his smile widen when he hears his name. 

“Don’t let it go to your head.” you say with an eye roll.

“Oh baby, it already did.”

Your heart stops at the pet name, willing yourself to remain professional. He’s a goddamn serial killer you internally yell. 

“Ok, now read the things you don’t like.”

“I don’t like Tuesdays and Thursdays, I don’t like San, and I don’t like your boyfriend.”

You choke on the sip of water you were taking. 

“How do you know I have a boyfriend?”

“Your reaction just told me.” he says and you can see him becoming upset. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and frankly it’s none of your business.” you say, slightly annoyed. 

He gives you a look you’re never seen before. You hate to think it but he genuinely looks insane. You’re suddenly thankful for the guards in the room. 

“I think that’s enough for today.” you say. the guards picking him up and dragging him out of the room, his eyes never leaving yours.

You weren’t lying, you don’t have a boyfriend. Well, that’s because he doesn’t want you. All  Chris wants from you is sex, claiming he’s “too young for a relationship”

You wish you were strong enough to stick up for yourself but that’s exactly how he likes you, weak. 

As you sit at your desk you're puzzled by Seonghwa’s reaction. Sure, you've had patients crush on you in the past but they've never reacted like that when they found out about your partner. He looked almost… murderous? You write this in his file, concerned for both your safety and his. Maybe someone else should get assigned to him? No, that’ll only aggravate him more. You sigh, at a loss about this situation. 

_________________________

When you enter your office you see an envelope on the floor, presumably slid under your door. You pick it up and see it’s addressed to you.

You open it and pull out a letter.

“My dear Y/N, 

I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday. I guess I got jealous, knowing I can’t have you in the ways he has you. I can tell you guys aren’t in love. You deserve to be loved, in every sense of the word. I wish we met in different circumstances, I’d do anything to have you, to hold you, to love you. I’m sorry if I scared you. You’ve been nothing but perfect for me and I’ve done nothing but give you headaches. I’ll be better for you, I promise.

-Hwa”

Your heart softens. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you. You choose to ignore the parts where he confesses his love for you. That just complicates things. You decide to pay him a visit in his room. 

You walk to the other side of the hospital, rehearsing what you're going to say to him. You stop in your tracks outside his door, hearing moans and groans coming from the other side. Is he ok?  You press your ear to his door, only hearing more moans and whimpers. As you’re about to open it you hear him moan out your name. Oh. It doesn't take a genius to guess what he’s doing. It would be a lie if you said you weren't imagining his face right now. He’s already so pretty, he must look even better right before he comes. You bite the bullet and knock on his door.

“Hwa, can I come in?”

You hear shuffling and a meek “Come in.”

You open the door and pause. You expected him to stop but he’s sitting up on his bed with his back against the wall, cock in his hand. Your eyes stray from his face to his dick, hard and long. 

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No.”

“I’ll come back later.” 

“No.” he yells, making you stop in your tracks.

“Turn around.”

As if you were in a trance you turn around, eyes trained on his large hands wrapped around himself. 

“Can you come help me? It hurts so bad.” he whispers. “You’re my doctor aren’t you?” he smirks.

“No, this is wrong.”

“Then why are you still here? Why are your eyes on my cock rather than my face?”

“I-”

“Y/N, all I can think of when I close my eyes is you.” he says as he strokes his cock, looking into your eyes. “Your pretty eyes, your lips, your perfect fucking smile. You make it so hard to focus. I gotta come back here after every session to stroke my cock to you, I can’t help myself.”

You’re frozen in place, unsure if you’re even breathing. “Come wrap your hand around my cock, baby. Please?”

Your legs move before you can think this through, hesitantly wrapping your hand around him. He’s so big in your hands, you can only imagine how perfect he’d feel inside you. 

“I shouldn't be doing this.” you whisper to him. 

He wraps his hand around yours and guides you to begin stroking him, moaning at the sensation. “You aren’t doing anything wrong, just helping your patient.”

His breathing picks up as precum leaks from his tip onto your hand. “Baby, can I tell y-you something?”

“Yea.”

“I really wish it was your pretty little pussy wrapped around me right now.” he groans. “I’d treat you better than you could imagine, I’d have you addicted to this dick.”

“Hwa” 

“Shh, keep going. You're making me feel so good, beautiful.” he breathes out, throbbing in your hand.

“Do you do this to your other patients? Or am I special.”

“You’re special, Hwa. You know that.”

“Do you do this for that ungrateful bastard you call a boyfriend?”

You freeze, but he continues. 

“I know you don’t. If he treated you how you deserved you wouldn’t be here with me. I’d make you a queen Y/N, you don’t even have to love me back.”

You look at him in the eye, he looks fucking insane but you can’t find it in you to care. You crash your lips into his, feeling him suck in a deep breath before returning the same ferocity. The kiss is deep and nasty, nothing but tongue and teeth. You grip him harder and begin pumping him faster, desperate to see his face when you come. 

“I want you to come for me ok? I wanna see how pretty you look when you feel good.”

“Yes, yes, ok. I’m gonna come for you.”

You hear him let out one last whimper before he comes, his seed dripping down your hand. When he’s done you bring your hand up to his mouth, watching him lick his cum off your fingers. You feel yourself clench around nothing, but you know you’d have to handle your little issue at a later time. 

“So good for me, Hwa.” you smile, giving him one last peck before getting up. 

He’s laying on the bed, looking completely blissed out, a wide smile on his face. 

“I got the letter by the way. I guess flattery has gotten you pretty far.”

_________________________

You arrive home later than expected, getting caught up in some paperwork and losing track of time. When you arrive at your apartment you see none other than Chris waiting outside. 

“Where have you been?” he immediately spits, slurring his words, making you roll your eyes. 

“Why are you here?” you sigh, unlocking your door.

“What? I can’t come see you now?” he says, going to hug you, but you push him away, smelling the alcohol on his breath. 

“Thought you’d be more interested in seeing Irene.”

“Y/N, don’t be like that. You and I aren’t together.” he says, getting aggravated.

“Thank God.” you say under your breath, unsure where this confidence came from.

“Come again?”

“Nothing.”

“No. Fucking say it.” he says, getting in your face.

“Chris, just leave.”

“Youre fucking impossible, Y/N. I don’t know what you fucking want from me. You get mad when I fuck other bitches but you talk to me like this? You don’t deserve me.”

You can’t help but laugh, turning to walk into your bathroom, which makes him even more upset. 

“Whats so fucking funny?” he yells, grabbing your wrist a little too tight. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” you spit, trying to pull your hand away, but unable to due to his tight grip. 

“You’re hurting me.” you cry as he tightens his grip and pulls you towards him. 

“Imagine how much you hurt me when you act like this? You’re a fucking bitch Y/N. Why are you acting like this? Are you fucking someone else is that it?” he’s getting angrier by the second, beginning to scare you.

“GET OFF OF ME.”

“ADMIT IT. YOU'RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT AREN’T YOU? “

You yank your hand from his grip, only to be greeted with a sharp slap across your face.

You look at him with wide eyes, shocked at his actions. He seems equally as shocked as he stares at his hand then you. 

“Sweetheart, I’m-”

“Get out before I call the cops.”

He rushes out, spewing bullshit apologies in his drunken state, but you’re having none of it. As soon as he leaves you begin to cry, the reality of what happened hitting you. You look down at your wrist, seeing his hand imprinted on your skin. You cry more, wondering how you got to this point.

_________________________

You tried your best to cover the small mark on your face, but the bruise on your hand was a no go. You just hoped the sleeves of your lab coat would cover the mark. You see multiple patients today, trying to keep up your usual happy persona but most likely failing. San is the only one who asked if you were ok, saying he “knows ways to make

You feel better.” Maybe Seonghwa needs to beat him up one more time so he can learn his lesson. Speaking og Seonghwa, you are nervous to face him after your encounter yesterday. You violated so many rules, if he were to snitch on you not only would you lose your job, but your license. You take a deep breath as the guards bring him into your office, two instead of four now due to good behavior.

He takes a seat but you’re not sure what to say. He frowns at the unusual silence, immediately asking what's wrong. 

“I’m fine, Hwa. Just having a shitty day.” you say while subconsciously rubbing your wrist, bringing attention to it. He shoots forward in his seat and grabs your arm, pulling back your sleeve and looking at your wrist. The guards immediately grab him, but you signal at them to stand down. 

“Did he do that?” Seonghwa asked, venom dripping from his voice. 

“He was drunk.” 

“That's not an excuse.”

“I know.” you sigh.

“That bastard doesn't deserve you. I hope he fucking dies.” Seonghwa spits. 

“Hwa, don’t say that.”

“I want to leave.”

You nod your head and the guards lead him back to his room. You decide to head home, hoping a night out with your friends will clear your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa’s tells himself he’s doing this for you. Everything he does is for you. No one can lay a hand on his sweet girl and think they won't experience any consequences. He’ll be damned if this fucker lives another day. He watches Chris dance and kiss other women like nothings wrong, like he didn’t put his hands on you. Seonghwa can feel the rage flowing through his body, this is the feeling he gets right before he kills. He can’t wait to see the light leave Chris’ eyes tonight. He’s eternally grateful for Hongjoong finding this fucker for him, he knows he’ll avenge you tonight. 

He waits for him near his car, watching him fumble with his keys. 

“Excuse me.” 

Chris turns around and sees Seonghwa standing next to the car parked behind his own. 

“Yes?”

“I know this sounds weird, but I’m trying to dump my couch, but I can’t get it out of my apartment by myself. Can you help me?”

“Yea sure.” 

Seonghwa couldn't help but smile, knowing what was about to happen. As soon as the pair enter Hongjoong’s old apartment, Seonghwa wastes no time and stabs Chris in the chest, watching him crumble to the floor. 

“You think you can touch my dear, Y/N and get away with it? No one is going to hurt my girl.” he spits, rage consuming him. 

Chris doesn’t get a chance to respond as Seonghwa plunges the knife into his chest, repeatedly, aiming for his heart. 

“This is how my heart felt when I saw those bruises on her.” he spits, mutilating Chris’s body. 

When his body is nothing more than a pile of flesh and blood, Seonghwa stands, changing out of his soiled clothes and exiting the apartment, leaving Chris’s body to rot. 

He pushes through the crowds of the rowdy club, searching for you. He spots you dancing with your friends, looking carefree and happy, exactly as you should be. He smiles at the sight, falling more in love with you as the seconds pass. He wants to experience everything with you, he wants to marry you, have kids with you, die with you, and he will. He’ll make you his, he’ll fill you up with his seed and watch your body grow. He’ll keep you where no one can find you, make sure you’re his forever. 

He watches you search for one of your other friends from your spot at the bar, hoping you’d make eye contact with him. When your eyes meet his heart stops. He watches your eyes widen, and confusion grow on your face. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re seeing correctly and when you open them again he’s gone. 

He walks back to the asylum elated, happy he served you justice. He passes by the security who knows better to question him and the nurses who keep their heads down and mouths shut. There's nothing money can’t buy, and the hospital staff’s silence is definitely not one of them. He changes back into his patient attire and gets into bed as if nothing happened. 

_________________________

 You’re 100% losing your mind. Either that or Seonghwa was in the same club as you last night which is impossible. You've run through every scenario you could think of and you’ve concluded whatever you feel for him is becoming too strong. You’re considering transferring him to another doctor, the guilt you have from what happened two days ago is sitting on you. That was completely unprofessional and foolish, your risked so much because you’re too fucking horny. Not only that but you took advantage of him, you're in a position of power, you should've said no. You know you wouldn't be able to treat and diagnose him properly. But you also know he’d throw a fit if he gets assigned to a new doctor. This is all too much for you to handle.

Your thoughts are interrupted by someone barging into your office. You look up and see Seonghwa, eyes widening. 

“Hwa? Why are you here?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Where are the guards?”

“Don’t worry about that.” he says and locks your office door, worrying you a bit.

“Seonghwa, you’ll get in trouble if they find out you’re here.”

“They won’t find out if you don’t tell.” he says with a smile, walking to your desk. 

“Why did you need to see me?”

“I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. It wasn’t my place to react like that, and I know you were probably already stressed, I shouldn’t have added to that.”

“It's ok, don’t worry.”

“No, it’s not Ok. I keep saying I'll treat you right but I haven't. Let me make it up to you.”

You smile at how much he cares when it should be the other way around. 

“And how are you going to make it up?” you say with a light laugh.

“Let me eat you out.”

Your eyes widen. 

“Hwa. What happened was a one time thing. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Why?

“You know why.”

“I won’t tell anyone. No one needs to know, Baby. I love you, why would I jeopardize you?” he says, getting on his knees next to your desk chair.

“What if someone sees?”

“I’ll take care of them. With the way I’m about to have you, no one but me gets to see you.”

Your breath quickens. No way you're actually contemplating this. You watch as he turns your chair towards him and places his hands on your thighs.

“What do you say, Sweet girl?”

You nod hesitantly. He smiles up at you spreading your legs and running his hands up your skirt. He flips it up and looks at your pink panties, sucking in a deep breath. 

“Just like I imagined.”

He puts his legs on your shoulder and pulls your hips to his face, running his nose along your inner thigh. He’s breathing heavily, his grip on you tightening. He licks a long stipe up your slit over your panties, teasing you. Your hands fly to his soft curls, pulling him closer. 

“Please don’t tease”  you whisper.

He begins to kiss your cunt, practically making out with it. He’s so sloppy with it, soaking your already soaked panties more. He pulls off your panties with his teeth, shoving them in his pocket before pulling you flush to his lips. He goes straight for your clit, sucking harshly. He's moaning into your cunt, lapping at your pussy like it's the last he’lll ever eat.

“So good, Baby. You taste so fucking goof. The best I’ve ever had.”

He runs two fingers through you, wetting them before easing them inside. 

“Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You can only moan in response, trying to control your volume.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s so good, Hwa. Feels so good.”

“Is it better than that fucker Chris?”

“Yes, so much better.” you moan out, not having enough brain power to question how he knows chris. All you can focus on is his soft tongue running through you and his fingers hitting all the spots you need. 

Your back arches as you feel your orgasm coming. “Give it to me baby. I deserve it,I’ve been so good to you.” he speaks into your cunt, his fingers never stopping. 

You look down into his wide eyes and see so much emotion in them. He’s so fucking pretty, just the thought that this is the man eating you out makes you let go. Grabbing his hair harshly and somehow pulling him closer as you soak his face. He keeps sucking and licking your clit, slowing the pace of his fingers. When it gets too much you yank his head back, out of breath. 

“Fuck, Hwa. That definitely made it up to me.” you laugh, blissed out.

“I’m glad.” he laughs, licking his fingers clean before standing up and kissing you.

“I can make you feel even better.” he smiles, testing his luck. 

“Nice try. Can I have my panties back?”

“No can do.” he smiles, kissing you one more time before backing up, helping you put your clothes back in place. 

“I’ll see you four, Love.” he says with a wide smile.

“Actually, I need to cancel our session, something came up.” you say solemnly watching his smile drop. All the guilt from before it you once again. You can’t keep doing this. He’s you patient for fucks sake, you can’t fuck him. This is wrong on so many levels.  

“So when am I going to see you instead?”

“I’ll let you know.” you say with a frown.

“Oh, Ok. Have a nice night, Y/N.”

“You too, Hwa.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa can feel something's off. He thought after he ate you out you’d realize you feel the same way about him. But he could tell it had the opposite effect. He tries to sleep but all that's on his mind is you. He looks at the clock on the wall, it's well past 4am, you should definitely be gone. He gets up and opens his door, seeing the guard on night duty fast asleep. He walks to your office and uses the master key he stole from the janitor to unlock the door. He walks over to your desk and scans the papers littering it. He sees a printed out email from your supervisor, listing reports made about you from other patients. Other patients claim you show him favoritism? He knows San was behind this. They claim patient reports you write for him are much more detailed and that's somehow proof of favoritism? You eating lunch with him is somehow inappropriate? He laughs at this, they really have no idea how inappropriate your relationship has gotten. He continues reading, Your supervisor claims he’s showing no improvement and has requested a new doctor for him. He can feel the anger coursing through his veins but he wills himself. He’ll be damned if they try to take you away from him. His months of planning will not go to waste. He’ll live out all his dreams with you, there's no way he won’t. 

He walks out of your office, filled with rage. He can’t believe this. He can only imagine how crushed you are. He knows you love him, even if you don’t know it. He knows you’re probably at home distraught. He owes it to you to make sure you two remain together forever.

He goes back to his room, but he still can’t sleep. He stares at the ceiling, imagining your pretty face in an attempt to calm his spirit. He’s rudely interrupted by his door opening. He looks at the clock and sees it's somehow 8am. Time flies so fast when you're on his mind. In walks another doctor he’s seen around the hospital. There's no way this happened so quickly. He can’t believe this. He sees the man speaking to him but he’s not hearing anything besides the ringing in his ears. 

“I want Y/N to be my doctor.”

“Unfortunately, she can’t. She hasn’t been making much progress with you. We're hoping a more experienced doctor like myself can help you more than she can.”

He looks at him blankly. He feels himself slipping away. His hands clench and reach under his pillow, grasping his knife as the doctor reads from his clipboard. He won’t let someone speak about you like this. He won’t let them take you away from him. He grabs the doctor's hair and slits his throat, sawing through the man's blood vessels until he falls limp. A guard runs in and attempts to wrestle the knife out of his hands but he overpowers him, plunging the knife into his chest repeatedly. Seonghwa’s fuled by blind rage, no one will stop him from avenging your honor. How dare they speak of you like this as he kills the fourth and final guard to come in. He hears alarms blaring in the distance and looks at the clock. It's 9:05 am, he can feel you on your way to him.

_________________________

The blaring of the alarms push you to run faster, entering the high security section of the hospital. The commotion from down the hall gets louder as you approach his room. You come to a halt as you see a stream of blood running down the hall, coming from beyond his door. A loud thud from inside his room breaks you from your trance,  you push open the door, seeing the bodies of guards surrounding his bed.   

“Hwa” you gasp, eyes trained on the battered bodies. “What did you do?” you breathe out, finally looking up at him. 

He looks up at you from across the room, eyes wide and bloodshot. 

“What did I do?” He laughs maniacally. “Y/N, This is your fault. I did this because of you.” he says as he begins to approach you. 

“THEY TRIED TO KEEP ME FROM YOU!” He yells. “You were supposed to take care of me. YOU PROMISED!” He traps you against the wall next to the door. “Isn’t that your job? Nurse me back to my right state of mind? Figure out what's wrong with me? But you didn’t do that. No,no, no you just made me fall in love with you, you made me want you! So don’t act like this is my fault.” he says as he lightly drags the knife across your throat.

“No ones going to keep me away from you, my love.” he whispers into your ear. He leans over and locks the door before looking back at you.

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

“No.” you answer with full confidence.

He smiles at you, but it's not the same smile your Seonghwa gives you. You don’t know who this is. 

"I want my Hwa back, I don;t like you like this.”

“I am your Hwa, Baby. I did this for you Y/N. Don’t you see how much I love you?” he says, dropping the knife and kissing down your neck. 

“I know, Hwa.” you sigh heavily, feeling his cock hardening against your stomach. 

“Say you love me too. I know you do.”

Do you love him? Can you love someone who’d do this? The longer you stay quiet the more upset he gets. “It's ok baby. I’ll love you enough for the both of us.” he sighs. “One day you’ll realize how much you love me.”

He runs his hands down your body, squeezing your ass. He flips you around, pressing your chest to the wall. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N. I’ll be all you think about for the rest of your life.”

He shoves your pants down and rips your panties off you, rubbing his fingers through you. “Fucking hell, you’re a filthy fucking liar. You do like me like this, look how wet you are.” he says bringing his soaking fingers in front of your face. Your breath quickens, seeing evidence of how wet you are.

“Just fuck me, Hwa.” you groan.

He pulls out his hard cock and rubs his tip through you. “I’ll make you mine, Y/N. You’ll let me cum in you right? Own this pussy”

“Yes, Hwa. Please.”

He lines himself up and slides in slowly, gripping your hips tightly at the sensation. 

“F-fuck, Baby. You feel so good, the best I’ve ever had.” he moans out. He fills you up completely, stretching you so painfully but not nicely. You savor the pain, it reminds you of  how taboo this is, how much you deserve to feel pain. Youre letting this psychopath fuck you in a room full of bodies, your colleagues blood on your body doing nothing but turning you on. You deserve to feel pain, but he turns that pain into pleasure with the first thrust. It’s like your pussy was made for him, you fit together perfectly. You can feel him in your stomach, so deep inside you, you can feel yourselves becoming one. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you harshly. 

“I’ve dreamt of this for so long. I’ve fucked my fist imagining it was this pussy. You couldn't even imagine all the nasty things I’d do to you, Bbay. I’d hurt you so bad but you’d love it, you’d beg me for more. B-beg me to make you mine.”

He pulls out quickly and flips you around, hiking you up the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slides back in, fucking into you while staring into your eyes. 

“I need to see that pretty face when I breed you. I have everything planned out for us, Y/N. There's a beautiful house waiting for you, so many rooms to fill up with our beautiful babies. I know you’d be a great mother, my perfect little housewife.”

He picks up his pace, feeling you clenching around him, but desperate to come together. 

“I’d keep you full of my seed all the time, my love. You’d always feel me dripping out of you, I’d keep you nice and round with my babies for as long as I can. You want that don’t you? You wanna be my slutty little cum dump?”

You can barely answer him, let alone breathe. He’s hitting it so deep, you feel like your on another planet. You look down into his eyes and nod, mesmerized by his beautiful brown eyes. You’d let him do anything he wanted if it meant you felt like this forever. 

“Cum for me, my love. I’m going to fill you up so nicely, ok?”

You let go, clamping down on his cock and hearing his deep groan. His warm cum fills you up to the brim, leaking out of you, despite the vice-like grip your cunt has on him.

“So fucking tight and warm, baby” he blabbers, shallowly thrusting his seed back into you. He pulls you in for a kiss by your neck, claiming your mouth as his own. You pull back for air, giving him a blissed out smile. The words he so badly wants to hear hang on your tongue but you can’t give it to him yet. 

“I know, baby. You don’t have to say it, I already know.” he whispers against your lips and sets you down. 

He helps you fix your clothes and begins to pull you out of the hospital. As you see the chaos ensuing, the reality of the situation hits you. 

“Hwa, where are you taking me?”

“Hongjoong is outside we gotta go before the cops come.”

“Wait, what?” you pull back from him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Y/N, now's not the time.” he growls.

“Tell me what's going on.”

“You really think I was going to stay in this shit hole forever? Y/N, I’m not fucking crazy, I killed those people on purpose. The only reason I’m not rotting in jail is because I paid off the judge. I was planning my escape from the moment I got here but I only stayed this long because of you. So let's go.”

His words break you from your trance. This man is actually insane. You begin backing away from him but he gets visibly upset. “Y/N, don’t try this shit with me. You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

The dim lighting of the hallway and red lights from the alarms make him look sinister. For the first time you feel afraid of him. 

“I don’t want to go with you, Seonghwa.”

He looks at you blankly before grabbing you harshly. “

“I didn’t want to do it this way, Y/N. I wanted us to be happy, but if I have to force you to want me, so be it. He pulls out the sedative he took from one of the guards and pulls off the cap with his teeth. “You’ll be mine forever Y/N. That baby growing in your belly is proof enough.” 

He sticks the syringe into your neck, releasing the chemicals into your body. You feel the drugs immediately kick in, falling limp in his hold. 

“Hwa, please don’t.” you whimper.

He caresses your face with a pout. “Don’t worry, Baby. You’ll love me eventually, I’ll make sure of it.” 

He flashes you a wide, beautiful smile before everything fades to black.

[kiwiikato]

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Six

note: i wanted to make it up to you all for the lack of a post yesterday by making this one 1k words longer and more wholesome, i hope you all enjoyed the ending, i need to feed u all more♡ thank u for ur patience and support >:3

masterlist

your body froze at his question. his voice was silky smooth. you knew he was teasing you and the effect it had on you. you body heated up more as your face erupted into a blush. no matter how hard you tried to keep calm, the way his looked at you almost had you fainting then and there.

and he knew the effect he had on you. and he liked it. in the short amount of time that he knew you, he thought you were attractive. so to see the effect he had on you in this moment, he couldn't help but have his ego grow slightly.

"so? do i make you nervous?" that damn cocky smirk never left his lips as he watched you, almost like he was eating you with his eyes. "no." you quickly blurted out, your thoughts going haywire. "i don't knowww," his voice playfully drew out his words, "the pink on your cheeks and the way you keep trying to avoid looking at me says otherwise♪"

he spoke teasingly, almost like he was tauntingly singing out your reactions to you, making you even more flustered. his body stayed looking at you, your eyes flickering between his arms to his chest to his sultry eyes. 

you mouth dried up, panicking. "yeah yeah, i have eyes, i can look where i want." your response was not the best, you didn't know how to react to this, you could only look away. "oh. really?" his voice was mischievous.

you heard the ice bath he was in move around from his movement. he didn't speak, he was too quiet for your liking. until he did. "hey." you looked back at him, trying to see what he was doing. god, you regretted it, but you couldn't deny how much you loved it.

you face was met with his, only about an inch away from you, almost like he knew you'd turn to him. your breathing caught in your throat as his lips were so close yet so far. you barely knew him, but the effect of a guy as handsome as him had you wrecked.

your eyes widened as you stayed still. he only seemed to get closer. his mouth got closer to your ear. you could feel his hot breath against your ear. what was he doing? "hey... can you pass me my towel on the couch?"

he pulled away with the most mischievous smile you have ever seen. he had no shame teasing you only to mess with you. nothing was going to happen, you should've known, but gosh, the way he acted made it feel like something would. "yeah- i'll get it." you quickly got up, moving to pick up the towel that he had left on the couch.

you grabbed the soft material, handing it over to him. you turned away, not knowing how he'd come out of the ice bath, waiting for him to be finished. you heard him get out, now walking beside you.

your eyes trailed as he walked away, the towel wrapped around his waist. his back shown perfectly to you. his neck turned to look at you, sending a childish smile as he stuck his tongue out at you.

he walked away, entering the hallway, going to change. once you were out of his eyesight, you quickly grabbed your face, caught off guard by everything that happened. "holy fuck.... what a tease" you could only whisper to yourself.

you went to sit in the couch, taking deep breaths as you fanned yourself with your hands. it wasn't long till you heard a door open and saw kenji walking towards your direction. he sat on the couch, next to you. "can you help me?" he was quiet, almost like he was embarrassed to ask for help. "of course."

you smiled as you took the bandages, rubbing alcohol, antiseptic, and antibiotic ointment he brought for you to help. "okay let's see what we got here." you reached over to the bandage on his forehead, looking at him for confirmation. he nodded, letting you know it was okay.

you slowly took the bandage off, looking at the scratched up wound he had, definitely one that would leave a bruise on his face. "ouch kenji, you might get a bruise from this." his face paled. "a bruise?? on this face? no can do!" you laughed at his reaction. "it's okay, you're in good hands, let's fix up that pretty face then."

he froze, slightly blushing, as you grabbed the bottle of antibiotic ointment he had brought. his breathing was shaky as you placed a hand on his chin, pulling him forward for you to reach the cut. "oh- aren't you going to use rubbing alcohol first to clean it?" he asked quietly, trying his best not to stutter.

"ah no. using things like rubbing alcohol or antiseptic on wounds can actually slow down the healing process since they damage your tissues, also killing helpful germs. some say you can use antiseptic as long as you dilute it with water and try not to get in inside the cut. antibiotic ointment is good to use though since it keeps out infections, also keeping the wounds moist and clean." you said as you applied the ointment to his forehead.

you grabbed a new bandage, softly placing it on his forehead, making sure it covered it right. "how do you know that?" he asked, curious of your knowledge. "i told you i used to take care of kids when i first offered to help you with the baby kaiju, i researched a lot since kids can be pretty reckless, and i wanted to make sure i did my best for them." you said as you tapped his shoulder.

he lifted the shirts fabric over his shoulder, letting you see the scratch there. you repeated the process, then moving to his forearm, right under his elbow, and repeating the process there.

"there you go. should be good as new in no time." you said as you closed the medicines and placing them to the side. "thank you." he said softly. "no problem kenji, i'm always here to make sure you and the baby and take care of.

"oh also! mina told me to tell you to go with her and the baby, she wants to show us something." kenji smiled and got up, eventually leading the way towards the elevator he had.

the ride down was quiet but comfortable, the both of you eventually getting there. you walked out with kenji trailing behind you, happily walking to where the excited kaiju baby was. small coos came from her as she excitedly clapped and jumped seeing the both of you finally in front of her.

"give me some good news mina." kenji spoke tiredly as he took a sip from his drink. you watched as his adam's apple bobbed up and down. "please tell us you found kaiju island." the idea made you sad to hear. you knew the baby kaiju didn't belong here but that didn't mean that you hadn't found yourself starstruck with her. you were grateful to know that wasn't why mina made you call kenji down here for.

"no, ken, but the baby has a surprise for you. right y/n?" she said, spinning over to you. "oh yes yes! we think you'll love it very much." you said as you clapped your hands excited. kenji smiled and turned towards the baby kaiju. "let's see then."

the baby kaiju flashed multiple colors, all the ones that belonged in the rainbow and those in between each shade. she bent her knees in joy as she started to jump from excitement. making a cute pose of bending one leg and raising her claw up as she alternated between limbs. your heart melted at the sight as she mimicked the intro song for the silly show known as 'kaiju step wandabada'.

the happy atmosphere from the song quickly changed when you found kenji and your faces contorting into one of disgust. it was then that yku realized that the baby kaiju had gone to the restroom and farted... horrendously.

"ugh! dear god... what is that smell?" kenji covered his nose and mouth with his arm as he moved backwards. you followed suit by using your shirt to cover your nose. "oh gosh..." you said quietly, trying to not gag from the stench.

"ken, y/n. you can not feed a twenty foot baby a half ton of fish and not expect anything but a giant pile of—" mina's words were cut off by the sound of another fart, loud as the one before it. green funk splattered against the walls of the containment as the baby jumped around.

"which brings me something that we need to discuss. until i'm able to find kaiju island, we're all going to need to raise her." kenji didn't like this idea what so all.

"mina, i got a whole season of baseball ahead of me. i just can't do it." he said as he started to walk away. "ken, you brought her home and now she is your responsibility. besides, you are not fully alone since y/n will also be helping you raise her." mina said as she followed behind him.

"exactly as mina said ken, you're not going through this alone, i'll be here to help you." you said as you walked beside him. he turned to say something to you but was cut off by mina floating in front of him, stopping you both in your tracks.

"she'll die if you both don’t take care of her. now it won't be easy but i'll do everything i can to help. y/n will too. we'll have to continue feeding her, washing her, develop a strategy for taking her to potty. you'll have to learn the five s's. swaddle, side, shush, swing, suck. you both need to raise her."

she menacingly floated towards you both, causing you both to walk backwards. her lights flickered orange, giving off a scary aura. you nodded your head quickly in fear as kenji's face tensed up and breathed heavy from all the events occurring.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

the days went by so fast yet so slow. everything drained the both of you, not expecting it to be so hard since it was two of you raising her. the days switched from waking up too early, to never getting sleep, to dealing with the crying, the feeding, the vomiting, pooping, the struggling to wash her, the burping her so late, to being slumped on the floor with eachother, to spending nights down stairs, cuddles together for warmth, to professor sato calling you and you rushing over to help with his work, to fighting kaijus, to knocking out while reading, to drinking tons of coffee, and more on repeat.

the days were horrible. and so painfully slow. so slow. every game kenji did went bad, so many strikes and missed hits. you felt bad for him as you would deal with the crying baby as you watched the tv. and other days you'd run off to go help his dad, avoiding telling him you were with his son of out respect to their lack of bond to kenji. some days you couldn't help but yell in a room by yourself. constantly running back and forth from your apartment, to professor satos place, and to kenji's house.

back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. you hated it. kenji hated it. but you both dealt with it. it wasn't till the seventy first day were you woke up to kenji rushing out of the house to a baseball match.

you laid on the floor next to mina and the baby as she slept fast asleep, thankfully giving you a second of peace from your exhaustion. the day was long as you waiting for kenji to come back.

a yell sounded through the room as you and the baby quickly shot up from the sound of something hitting the floor. kenji's helmet rolled on the floor, the source of the sound.

"threaten to trade me, ken sato?!? to the tigers?! to the tigers?!?! nobody trades ken sato!" you slowly stood up from where you sat, slowly walking towards kenji who stared outside to the ocean. "i'm doing my best, okay?! god!" his breaths were shaky as his voice cracked from his heavy emotions. "i feed you, i clean your massive poopies!" kenji's hand slammed against the glass as he shook.

you got closer to him, right as he started to crumble to the floor. "ken... are you crying?" you softly asked as your hand touched his back in a comforting manner. "no... i'm not crying." his breathing was shaky as you heard his sniffles. you watched as he wiped away at his eyes, getting rid of the tears that leaked.

"it's been a long day, hasn't it?" you said. you hand rubbed against his back, trying to soothe him. the both of you had gotten closer in the duration of taking care of the baby, connecting through the hardships of raising a living being. "yeah..." he whispered.

"do you want to talk about it?" he looked away, trying to his his face. "hey hey. it's okay. let it out." your hands found his face, gently pulling him to look at you. the thumbs of your hands rubbed against the bottom of his eye as you wiped away any tears that came out. "there there you big baby, everything's going to be okay."

he could only cry more as you held him. he scooted closer, his face looking to the floor. he spoke but the tears he had made it hard to hear. "what was that ken?" you said as his face sat on your hand. "can i hug you..." it was almost so quiet that you almost didn't hear it, but you did.

"come here, ken." your arms opened as he fell forward. his arms wrapped around your body as they rested at your waist. his grip was tight as he continued to softly cry. "don't cry ken, it's okay, you're not alone." you said as your arms held him to you, softly humming to ease him.

"can i get closer..." he asked, seeking comfort, anything. he just needed a loving embrace. "of course you can ken." before you knew it, your body was lifted up. it was then that you realized that ken had placed you on his lap as you both hugged each other.

his face found the crook of your neck, as your chin rested on his shoulder. "i'm sorry. i just don't want to be alone right now." "it's okay ken, it's okay. i'm here, let it out." his waterworks continued as soft whines and sniffles escaped him. you couldn't help the small blush that made its way to your face from the position you were in, shaking it off since he was vulnerable.

some time passed, the both of you not moving for a while. you almost thought he had fallen asleep from his silence. you were wrong. "y/n... can i sleep with you tonight, please." his voice was soft and timid. how could you deny someone as adorable as him.

"that's fine ken, as long as you're comfortable with it." you said as your hands trailed through his hair. his face moved from your neck, giving you a soft smile. "that would be nice." you moved to get off of his lap, with him following suit.

you walked towards the baby kaiju, letting her know that it was okay to sleep. mina played a lullaby, letting her lull to sleep. "thank you mina." you said quietly as kenji trailed behind you, his body timid.

"of course. do let me know if you both need anything. we can play some baseball to help ease you tomorrow if you'd like ken." ken nodded and mumbled a small 'thank you'.

you both walked to the elevator, deciding to call it a night for the both of you. it wasn't long before the doors open and you moved through his house to the spare room he had lent to you to stay it. "oh wait hold on, can i change into pajamas really quick?" you nodded your head as ken ran to his room to find comfortable clothes since he still adorned his baseball uniform.

you moved into the room, tidying the bed a bit as you waited for him to return. you turned the lights off as you went to lay in bed. it wasn't long to the sound of the door opened, you could hear soft steps make there way to the other side of the bed. "y/n..." he whispered, trying to see if you were awake or not.

"get in the bed kenji, you need your rest." ken nodded as he pushed the covers aside and got in. the both of you laid side to side, facing one another. the room was dark but moonlight flashed through the window, illuminating his features nicely.

"thank you." "you're welcome ken, you've had a rough day, get some rest and relax your head." you said as snuggled more into the sheets. "thank you again.. this means a lot, i wasn't feeling the best— is that a frog?" your eyes snapped open as you stared at ken slightly laugh at the frog stuffed animal that laid in your arms.

"shut up! leave him alone." you said as you held him close. he could only laugh as he shook his head. "do you really get that lonely at night?" he asked teasingly. "weren't you the one that was just crying? why are you teasing me, i'll kick you out of the bed right now." you said, huffing out of embarrassment.

"no no no, i just thought it was cute." you grumbled put a 'whatever' at his teasing. "look. come here." you didn't have the chance to react till kenj reached over, pulling you body against his. his arms wrapped around you as his leg laid on top of you, getting comfortable.

"there. now you won't be lonely." he said as his head rested on yours. "shut up." you grumbled. you could feel his chest vibrating against you. "your welcome n/n, now sleep with me."

you didn't say anything, instead just scooted closer as the blanket wrapped around you both. the room was silent as your breathing intertwined. it was peaceful. it wasn't long till you both felt your eyes grow heavier. "goodnight n/n."

your eyes closed as his arms pulled you closer. his eyes admiring the sight of you against him. he softly smiled, closing his eyes to follow you into sleep. his head leaned down as he lips placed a small but gentle kiss on your head.

he snuggled into you more. he could get used to this, it was nice... really nice. his thoughts were cut short as he, too, fell into sleep. the night flew with small dreams of you, his mouth in a smile as he slept.

TAGLIST

@ilovemyhusbandaaravos @miffysoo @dumbkira15 @chaoticotaku @channit @shingsoluvely @vampz-cats @mixvchelle @ifharbingerbad--whyhot @dreamayy @justanotherkpopstanlol @bat1212 @angelitadiaz @snowbusiness @witcwitchy @mizzowizzo @buggs-1 @mmeerraa @everywonuu @nevermorekisses @f1uveryysblog @t4naiis @stxrrielle @ixqiix @arrozyfrijoles23 @sincerest-one @imsimping4life @sassy-cat-in-town @jack-of-all-trades-696 @flutterfly365 @eternalgoddessofart @hulyenl @leabrainrot @sunmigs @m3q3kic @lynbubble @leviannx @call-me-nyxx @gurofushi @ya-boi-v @im-sidney @haitani-zoe

[simplygojo]

Another Speeding Ticket

Author's Note: Hey y'all, tysm for all the love n care you've been sending me. I am basically back to normal now, so lets assume our resume Kinktober schedule..haha.

Spooky Szn Masterlist

This kinktober oneshot includes a Kinktober Prompt request, I hope you enjoy ;) I am getting very smutted out, so I unfortubatly will not be able to complete all of your requests! I will try my best, even if I finish them in November, but thank you guys so much for the support!

Pairing: Cop!Nanami x f!reader

Request: This request was by @aurorascorpio, although I slightly altered it. I hope you enjoy :) The request is linked here for any interested <3

I also included a few other anon requests in this fic, so I hope YOU ALL ENJOY!!! (shoutout to 🐜 !!)

Kinks: Spanking, Overstimulation, Edging, Size, Brat Taming, Breeding & Gun Play

Word Count: 2.2K

Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, gun play, fingering, spanking, size kink, overstimulation, breeding, brat taming, aggressive sex.

The sound of your engine roaring down the empty highway was almost therapeutic, the thrill of speeding through the night air intoxicating. 

But as soon as the familiar red and blue lights flashed behind you, your heart sank. Not again.

You groaned, already knowing who it was. Every time. It was always him.

You pulled over, slamming your palms on the steering wheel in frustration, and your forehead followed, leaning against it in defeat. 

You didn’t even need to look in the mirror to recognize the tall figure walking toward your car. 

His slow, measured footsteps sent your pulse racing, not in fear, but in a way that made your body heat.

Nanami Kento—your boyfriend—who was also a cop, and didn’t mind giving you speeding tickets despite your relationship.

Blonde hair slicked back, face perfectly composed and stern, his broad shoulders filling out his uniform almost too well. 

You swallowed as he approached, your heart hammering in your chest. This was probably the fifth time he’d pulled you over in the last month alone, and each time, his scolding made you feel like a naughty child being disciplined.

But this time felt different. There was a tension in the air you couldn’t quite place, an edge to his movements, like his patience had finally run dry.

He tapped on your window, and you rolled it down, biting your lip as his sharp eyes locked onto yours.

“Step out of the vehicle, Miss y/l/n,” Nanami’s voice was clipped, no room for argument.

You blinked, your stomach doing nervous flips. "W-wait, is this really necessary? I wasn’t going that fast—"

“You were going twenty-five over the limit. Again,” he said, his tone hard as steel. His gaze pierced through you, making you shrink back. “Step. Out.”

You hesitated but did as he commanded, heart pounding in your chest. 

The night air was cool against your legs as you stood beside your car, your skirt fluttering slightly as you faced him.

Nanami stood tall in front of you, his jaw clenched, looking every bit the no-nonsense cop he always was. 

There was a certain dominance in the way he towered over you, the stiff set of his jaw making your breath hitch. You could practically feel the weight of his authority pressing down on you, making your knees weak.

“I’ve warned you so many times, y/n,” he sighed, his voice lowering as his frustration bled through. “And yet here you are, speeding again. Reckless.”

“I-I’m sorry, really! I swear this is the last time—"

“No. You don’t get to talk your way out of this one,” Nanami cut you off, his tone sharp. 

“You don’t seem to learn your lesson. Maybe I need to teach you a different way.” His eyes darkened, and before you could process what was happening, he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around and pressing your front against the side of your car.

You gasped, heart racing. “Wait—what are you doing?”

“Bend over,” he ordered, voice deep with authority.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand pressed against your back, forcing you into position. 

You could feel his presence looming behind you, his large frame towering over your bent form. 

The cold metal of his gun on his waist grazed your lower back as his hips pressed into you, and the weight of it sent a shiver through you.

“You’ve been a brat every time I’ve caught you,” he muttered darkly, his hands sliding down your waist, roughly pulling your skirt up to expose your panties. 

“Maybe it’s time I put you in your place.”

The thrill of it all made your thighs clench together, heat pooling between your legs. You squirmed, trying to protest, but he was having none of it.

“Be a good girl, my dear,” he commanded, his voice laced with danger. “Or do I need to use more force?”

You shook your head, biting your lip, already feeling the wetness soaking through your panties. 

“No, sir…”

His large hands roamed over your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a sharp slap. You yelped, the sting sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core.

“You like that, don’t you?” He growled, landing another smack, harder this time. 

The sound echoed in the quiet night as you gasped, body arching against the car. 

“You act like a brat, and you’ll get treated like one.”

Another slap, then another. 

The rhythm of his spanking had your ass burning, your legs weak. You were dripping, your panties clinging to your slick folds as he continued his punishment.

Without warning, he yanked your panties down, leaving you completely exposed to the night air. 

Your heart raced, both embarrassment and excitement swirling together in a heady mix.

Nanami’s fingers slid between your legs, teasing your entrance before slipping one thick finger inside. 

You moaned, your body instantly responding, grinding back against his hand. The stretch of just one of his fingers was enough to send a surge of heat through your core, your walls clenching around the intrusion, desperate for more.

“So eager,” he muttered, pleased with the way your body reacted to him. 

“My job is to enforce the law, and teach people lessons when they break those laws…” 

He unholstered his gun, the metallic sound making your pulse quicken. 

The cold barrel pressed against your hip as his fingers moved inside you with deliberate slowness, curling against your walls. 

The juxtaposition of pleasure and danger sent a shiver down your spine.

The pressure of the gun against your skin made you gasp, your body arching against the car. 

He wasn’t rough, but the weight of it was enough to remind you who was in control. His thumb brushed against your clit, applying just enough pressure to have you trembling beneath him.

“You don’t learn, do you?” Nanami murmured, his voice deep and steady, even as his fingers slipped deeper, hitting a spot that made your legs weak. 

“I’ve warned you time and time again, and yet here you are, acting like a reckless brat.”

You whimpered, pushing back against him, desperate for more. But Nanami wasn’t having it. 

He withdrew his fingers almost entirely, barely grazing your entrance as you squirmed in frustration.

“Stay still,” he commanded, the gun now resting against your waist as a cold reminder. “You don’t get to decide when you get what you want.”

Your hips moved on their own, seeking the friction he was withholding, the need in your belly tightening like a vice. 

The absence of his touch left a hollow ache, but his control over you kept you teetering on the edge of submission.

Every time you felt yourself climbing toward release, he would slow down, making you gasp in frustration. 

The ache between your legs grew, your need for him becoming desperate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to beg. Not yet.

His fingers slipped back inside, slow and deliberate, rubbing against that sensitive spot that made your legs shake. 

“Look at you,” he muttered darkly. “All that attitude, and now you’re desperate for me.”

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to moan too loudly, your pride still intact despite the torment. 

But Nanami could read you too well, knew how close you were.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” he taunted, his thumb brushing over your clit in maddening circles. “I can feel how badly you need it. How you’re shaking for it.”

“Yes…Yes sir” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop it. 

Your pride wavered as the pleasure coursed through you, leaving you trembling against the car.

Nanami hummed in approval, but instead of giving you what you craved, he pressed the gun harder against your skin, reminding you who held all the power. 

His pace slowed again, the edging cruel as your body throbbed with need.

“Have some patience, my dear” he growled, his voice dangerously low. 

His fingers worked you with precision, drawing you to the edge once more, only to pull back, leaving you teetering on the brink.

Nanami’s grip on your waist tightened, the authority in his touch clear as he held you firmly against the cool metal of the car. 

His voice was low, commanding, as he muttered darkly into your ear, “If you don’t learn, maybe I’ll have to give you something to remember. Maybe putting a baby in you will finally get you to listen.”

Your breath hitched at his words, heat pooling between your legs as the weight of his intention sank in.

His fingers left you aching, desperate for more, and before you could respond, Nanami moved swiftly. 

His belt clinked as he unbuckled it, and you felt the heavy press of his cock against your slick entrance.

The size of him alone had you gasping, your body trembling with anticipation.

Without warning, he pushed into you, his cock stretching you wide as he filled you completely in one rough thrust. 

The sensation of him deep inside you made your legs buckle, and you braced yourself against the car, the overwhelming fullness leaving you breathless. 

He was so thick, so impossibly big, that it felt like your body was struggling to take all of him.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Nanami grunted, his voice strained with restraint. His hands roamed your hips, holding you steady as he pulled out only to slam back into you, his pace rough and unrelenting from the start. 

Each thrust pushed you forward against the cool surface of the car, your ass burning from the rough spanking and your body tingling with overstimulation.

“Such a fucking brat,” he growled, landing another sharp slap on your ass that sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you. 

“Maybe this will finally teach you to behave.”

The sharp sting of his hand contrasted with the deep, pounding thrusts of his cock, and you could barely keep yourself together, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiralling toward the edge. But Nanami was far from done.

He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, 

“You’re going to take every inch of me, and you’re not going to cum until I say so.” His thumb found your clit again, rubbing tight circles that had you clenching around him, desperate for release.

The pleasure was too much, your body trembling as you felt your orgasm build, but Nanami wasn’t giving you the satisfaction. 

He pulled back slightly, dragging his cock out of you slowly, only to slam back into you with such force that you cried out, your hands scrambling for purchase against the car.

“You think you can just do whatever you want?” Nanami taunted, his hips snapping against yours with punishing force. “Breaking the rules like a spoiled brat? Not anymore.”

His pace quickened, the force of his thrusts driving you closer and closer to the brink, but every time you felt yourself teetering on the edge, he slowed down just enough to keep you from falling over. 

The overstimulation had your body shaking, desperate for release, but Nanami wouldn’t let you have it.

His words sent a shiver through you, the promise of him filling you making your body respond in ways you couldn’t control. 

You wanted it, wanted him to finish inside you, to claim you in every way. The idea of him filling you with his sweet release, of the possibility of it taking, had your thighs clenching with need.

“Please,” you whimpered, your pride shattered as you begged him. “Please, let me cum…”

Nanami chuckled darkly, his hand landing another sharp slap on your ass before he picked up the pace, fucking you hard and deep, his cock hitting spots that made your vision blur. 

Your body tensed, teetering on the edge once again as he fucked you harder, the pleasure overwhelming as he pounded into you. 

His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing with brutal intensity, and the combination of his size, the stinging spanks, and the threat of being filled finally pushed you over the edge. 

You were practically seeing stars as you felt the familiar sense of pleasure begin to creep up on you.

“Cum for me,” Nanami commanded, his voice sharp as he thrust into you with one final, deep stroke. “Take it all.”

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as you came hard, your walls clenching around him as you milked his cock. 

The intensity of it had your legs trembling, and you barely registered Nanami’s groan of satisfaction as he followed you over the edge, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you, filling you with his cum.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he said, his voice muffled as he squeezed the skin on your hips tightly, staying buried deep inside you as he emptied himself, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned down. 

“Maybe now you’ll finally listen.”

Your body was spent, your legs weak as you leaned against the car, panting and trembling from the overwhelming pleasure.

Nanami stayed inside you for a moment longer, making sure you felt every bit of him before he finally pulled out, leaving you breathless and full.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Five.

Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.7k

Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.

Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.

A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.

It's been three months since you left home.

It's been three months since you saw Bucky.

He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.

He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.

You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.

The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.

Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.

And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.

On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.

You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"This is ridiculous."

Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.

"Good ridiculous?"

She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.

"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."

Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.

"I need these on the menu."

"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."

"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."

"Okay. Fine."

You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.

You know it's because of your Tethering.

Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.

And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.

Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.

It takes time to adjust.

No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.

For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.

For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.

Both are valid. Both are understandable.

You remind yourself of this every day.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."

The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.

"Who is it?"

"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."

Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?

You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.

You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.

He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.

"Hi."

"Hey. Are you the baker here?"

"I am."

He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.

"I'm Rafael."

You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.

"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."

You don't say anything, so he continues.

"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."

You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.

"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."

You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.

You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.

"You're really talented, you know."

"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."

His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.

"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."

"You'd do that for her?"

"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."

"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.

"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."

He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.

"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."

You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.

"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."

The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,

"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."

His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.

"You are?"

"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."

"You guys are married?"

"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."

"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"

You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.

"He's my Dad's best friend."

You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"That... is complicated."

"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."

Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.

"How did your parents react?"

"They don't know yet."

His eyebrows raise almost comically high.

"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."

"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."

"Understatement of the century," he laughs.

You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.

"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."

"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."

He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.

"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."

"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"

"Sure does."

You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."

"Thanks, Rafael."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Of course."

That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."

"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."

"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"

"What kind of surprise?"

"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."

"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."

"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."

"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."

"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."

"I know," you smile. "I know."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.

You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.

You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.

You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.

You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.

You know who it is.

A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.

You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.

He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.

He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.

He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.

"You're here."

You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.

"I'm here."

Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.

"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."

He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.

"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.

"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."

"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."

"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."

"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"

He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.

"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."

You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.

"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.

"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."

"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."

"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."

"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.

"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."

"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.

He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.

"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."

"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."

"Miss you more."

He looks at you, smiling.

"Man, we're the worst."

"Truly."

He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.

It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.

There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.

"Surprise!"

You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.

"Oh my God! You guys!"

She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.

He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.

"I got you something. I hope you like it."

That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.

"Happy Birthday, Mama."

She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.

She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.

"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."

"Missed you. You look beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."

You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.

"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."

You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.

You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.

What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.

When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.

"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"

His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.

"I have to."

"Oh yeah?"

"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."

He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.

"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."

"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."

His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.

"One dance," you whisper.

He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.

I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.

Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"That was close!"

Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.

"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."

"Mama, are you sure?"

"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."

"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."

She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.

"Love you both."

"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"

"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"

You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.

"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."

You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.

"It's not the same here without you."

You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.

You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.

"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"

He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.

"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."

"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."

"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."

"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."

He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."

He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.

"Okay. I promise."

You whip your head around to look at him.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."

"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. I feel it."

You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.

"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.

"I have. What for?"

"The couch."

You process for a moment before it clicks.

"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."

"No?"

"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."

He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."

You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.

"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."

Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.

"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."

You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.

Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.

"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"

You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.

"Please, Buck. Anything."

"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."

He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.

"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Yeah?"

"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."

Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.

"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.

You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.

Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.

You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.

He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.

"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."

You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.

He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.

"You good?"

"So good," you grin. "Never better."

"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.

"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."

"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."

You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.

Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.

You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.

"Buck, I-"

"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."

"Need you to move, baby."

He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.

"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."

Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.

He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.

"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."

The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.

Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.

He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.

"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.

"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.

Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."

You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.

"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.

The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.

Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.

Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.

"I don't want you to go."

The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.

"I don't think I want to go."

He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.

"You have to, baby. It's your dream."

Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.

"You're my dream."

Bucky sniffles, and you continue.

"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."

You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.

"We'll be okay, my honey girl."

You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.

"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.

You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff   @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[koiiiji]

windbreaker characters & their possible love trope (part 2)

warnings : smut part with wooin but i tried to make it more sensual then sexy, prob fluffiest stuff i ever wrote, as usual it might be ooc, not proofed read on your own risk!!)🧣💞🦢

thank you all guys for 287 followers!!(i wrote when it was 260!!) i hope my works makes your day a lil bit better and set some mood. i really appreciate all likes, reposts and especially!! comments and replies, in love with @sugardollie-907 @hjunsjoy @cozyunderworld @dialoguestetatet and wildylisa but idk why i can’t tag((( and so so many other people who comment (but i swear this holy five lives rent free in my comment section and it such a blessing🙏🏻)

thank you to every-everyone who supporting me, my works, it’s so gratifying to come here and see all notifications about your feedbacks!! also want to say thanks to all wb authors who ever posted and posting!! another source of motivation and inspiration🫵🏻😌💋💯🎀

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

vinny - a friend’s sister. you were definetely dom's or jay's sister, and vinny was so annoyed by you in the first place. not because of your personality or you annoyed him directly, but you were that "genious" in your sport, and vinny unitentionally compared you to jay jo, who were gifted with talent from birth. he was angry or annoyed to the point of goosebumps, he didn't even understand exactly what he was feeling, but he understood that this was a very strong storm of emotions and he was fixated on you. honestly? when your brother watches your competitions or casually tells about your successes, Vinny records it in his memory and will congratulate you later(dom as an older brother will 100% hype you up, fight me. he would show his phone to hummingbird crew with tearing puppy eyes “look, my lil gremlin winning those competition of hers”🥹🥹)Vinny would rather die by biting his neck than admit his feelings to someone, so it happens accidentally, maybe your chat went further than congratulating each other on winning competitions or your calls to him to find out where your brother is hanging around today. but because you were tired after the competition, you fell asleep leaving the chat open and not responding to his messages, leaving him on read. not to say that Vinny was offended by you, he just snapped at you for 3 days in a row, refusing to respond to messages. you had to take the situation into your own hands and hold his hand after another training and talk. “ta hell you want?” he said, frowning down at you. “just to talk and clearly” - you explained the situation to him and told him why you didn't answer, but since Vinny didn't know how to apologize and he had certain trust issues, it turned into another skirmish. it was evening and it was unnoticeable how the clouds thickened and the rain began to fall, but it didn't seem to bother two of you much because you were standing and yelling at each other for a reason you both didn't understand. Vinny's patience had always been zero, but now it seemed as if he was on the verge of reaching another stage of rabies. while you were shouting at him that you didn't understand why he started this quarrel at all, he just exhaled irritably and unknowingly blurted out “FUCK! because i was worried about you!!” as the argument reached its peak, Vinny's frustration peaked, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and apprehension. yet, amidst the chaos of their exchange, a surge of emotion overcame him, compelling him to act on the impulse he'd long suppressed. with a sudden surge of courage, Vinny closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. eyes met, mirroring the intensity of emotions, as Vinny leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. the rain continued to fall, its gentle rhythm enveloping both of you in a cocoon of intimacy as you melted into each other's embrace. Vinny’s body pressed to yours, rain-soaked and trembling, as the warmth of the spring evening mingled with the cool touch of the rain. in that moment, amidst the soft glow of the night lights and the soothing patter of raindrops, time seemed to stand still. the world around you faded into obscurity, leaving only the two bodies locked in a passionate embrace. as your lips parted, a sense of relief washed over, breaths mingling with the cool night air as you savored the sweetness of the moment. in the gentle caress of the rain and the warmth of each other's touch, you found solace, knowing that despite the storm raging around two of you, they were anchored in the calm of their love. as you kissed beneath the spring evening sky, a sense of peace washed over them, the tension of their argument melting away with each tender caress. In that fleeting moment, surrounded by the gentle embrace of the rain and the comforting glow of city lights, they found solace in each other's arms, their love renewed and strengthened by the storm they weathered together.

wooin - fake relationship. he commited it in the first place. since his work wasn’t permanent and he was constantly on the move, hanging here and there, Wooin thought it would be nice to have something permanent in his life. he needed excuse to tell his family why he can’t visit them on weekends - his girlfriend doesn’t feel well. them asking him all this “start a family” questions? sorry, y/n isn’t ready yet. some unforeseen situations? oh, y/n can be his trusted person. something didn't go according to plan? he can rely on y/n, if it isn’t something too difficult or dangerous. as a substitute he will gift you something, or will took you somewhere, thanking you for being his backup. genuinely it wasn’t something like friends with benefits, no, you two clearly share a bond, but it was something on the edge, as everybody thought you were dating. and in fact all this acts, you being his backup, him giving you small gifts, taking you on dates, sharing a bed - it all feels more like a relationship. but you never had this conversation, after another hot sex you could fall asleep together, for sure, but in the morning one of you definitely woke up in an empty bed. of course, it also happened that you woke up together, but in the morning Wooin was simply unbearable, and more often it ended with too caustic jokes. and it was always on the edge, you weren't in a relationship, you weren't friends, you weren't strangers, you were all together at once. at some point, it started to get exhausting. you noticed it first, but Wooin started talking about it first... well not actually talk, but mutter in the crook of your neck… today’s sex was different, the encounter was filled with a blend of sensuality and intensity, both of you asserting your desires while maintaining a balance of power. you bite each other, when it feels like too much, but immediately kissing and licking bite place, each of you tried to get leading role while another didn’t let it happen. today, Wooin's approach was different - not sloppy, fast and erratically, but slower, more deliberate, his touch gentle yet his thrusts firm. you were suffocating in his arms, and it seemed to him that he was drowning in the smell of your hair, your moans, how you trembled slightly from his hands on your chest, hips and neck. Wooin burrowed his nose deeper into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily and sniffing your scent. it was intoxicating, that feeling when you were next to him, when his hands slid over your body, your soft sobs, how the emotions on your pretty face changed depending on his pace. now, with his whole body pressed against you from behind, one hand holding your hip, and the other between your head and the pillow, his palm rested on your collarbones. while he was slowly sinking into you, and you were smiling and almost purring with pleasure, he caught himself thinking that he liked your smile. he likes to spend time with you, he likes to use an excuse in front of his parents and call you his girlfriend. his. Wooin liked the idea of you being his. he liked you. along with these thoughts, his pace increased, now he was digging his fingers into your thigh, and the other hand slid to your breast, squeezing it a little harder. you were both lost in your pleasure as you moaned louder and louder, he pressed his nose harder into your neck, whispering something that you couldn't make out. at one moment, he lifted his head, biting your earlobe, and pulling it slightly towards him, in a burst of emotion, he whispered "i like you"*

kwon - stranger to lovers/soulmetes - for the first time it seemed like someone corsed you. you moved to new flat in different district of Seul and now it was time to transport your stuff from old flat. everything started when you recieved message from a men who drove the car with your stuff, saying that he is stuck on a street because there are some stupid cycling competition and usual road is closed. amazing, you already were so stressed and here some cycling competition, but thankfully in the evening you finally recieved your stuff, mostly some boxes, small and big. when you were about to pick another heavy box you felt that it seemed strangely light. when you rise your eyes you saw a young man around your age. you thanked him for helping and he turned out to be almost your neighbor, one floor above and to the left of your neighbor's wall. next time you saw Kwon Hyeok in evelator…and you two were stuck there…for 3 hours…you were about to meet with your friends and, as you learned later, he was about to pick something to eat in nearest market. week later you met him in random cafe, where you decided to have a dinner alone, the owner of the cafe came up to you, saying that all the seats are occupied, but since you are alone, there was an empty place, behind the bar, just next to a guy your age (the old man grinned and has obviously already married you two in his head) so when you sat down carefully and apologized for the intrusion, you recognized that it was Kwon. you ordered your food and few drinks, and had a nice time together. and after a month of such unexpected encounters, you began to suspect 2 things - either fate brings you together, or he is a stalker. thankfully when you ran into each other again in the same cafe and drank a lot more this time, you admitted that you suspected him, and he, in turn, thought the same - that you were weird stalker girl who followed him around, and in that evening you laughed together from many things. when it was time to leave he understood that you were so drunk that you couldn’t even stand straight, so he took you by the elbow, hugged you with his free hand a little bit higher than your waist and led you home. along the way, of course, you mumbled something about how you like one handsome boy and he seemed like not paying attention to you and probably not even interested and why you're still alone…and then, under the soft glow of streetlights, amidst the hushed whispers of the night, it happened. in a moment that felt both inevitable and surreal, your lips met in a tender kiss, sealing the bond that had been silently growing between you. in that stolen moment, amid the chaos of the city, you found solace in each other's arms, knowing that fate had finally brought you together as more than just strangers in passing.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

* i’m sorry, i don’t really know how to finish this part with wooin, as it already feels too ooc, it was more self inserted, like i was inspired by my latest situationship, bc i was in fucking same situation(it didn’t end well) , and it’s still kinda my roman empire, so i leave space for your imagination… if u don’t mind of course…🥹

[cheeseceli]

When their S/o is taller than them

Pairing: skz!Ot8 × Gn!Reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, reaction

Request: what either skz or bts would be like with a tall s/o? (5’8”) and while I’m here I just want to say I really love your writing and I look forward to reading your fics <3

Warnings: one kill joke in lee know's, not proofread at all, I think that's it.

A/n: thank you so much for the lovely words 🤍 as a (kinda) tall girl I love to think about this lmao. BTS version here !

Bang Chan

Hugs all the time. He just LOVES how your hugs seem to be different (and better) than anyone else's. Maybe it's because of your height or for the simple fact that you are you but he adores how warm and safe he feels in your arms. His favourite hugs from you are the ones that you either back hug him when he's distracted and put your chin on his shoulder OR when you hug him normally but add a kiss to the crown of his head. He falls more and more in love with you after every hug.

Lee Know

You know he's never gonna admit this but he loves the height difference. Your teasing gets 200% more efficient just because of it (but he'll kill anyone who points out how his ears are getting a little too red). When you guys were just friends but he already had a crush on you, he'd get truly flustered if you got closer than usual, like you were towering him - and he still does, he just likes to pretend he doesn't tbh lmao.

Changbin

We all agreed that this man would have and love and support a taller s/o to the extreme. He's like your personal cheerleader, always making sure to let you know that you are BEAUTIFUL and he loves every single detail about you - your height included. The first to tell people to shut up if someone ever comments on the height difference with a rude tone. Like, he will NOT accept someone trying to say shit about your relationship, especially when it's something he loves so much.

Hyunjin

It doesn't matter if you're one centimeter taller or a whole ruler taller, he's in love and he thinks that your height makes you look ethereal even. If you're up to it, he'll definitely buy you high heels and encourage you to wear them on any occasion that's possible. Finds it kinda fun how he has to tilt his head up in order to kiss you and always ends up giggling over this, even after years of doing it. He's just that enamoured, can you blame him?

Han

Oh he's enjoying this a bit too much. Feel free to reach all the tall shelves for him and open every can/jar. He has the babygirl reputation for a reason lmao. Jokes aside, I think he'd really enjoy a taller s/o, no matter what your height is. Has literally no patience to outsiders "teasing" and making rude comments about this dynamic, he'll quickly shut them up. (Also, get prepared to lift him up if you're strong enough like that video of him with lee know because when I said he's enjoying this I meant it😭)

Felix

HE LOVES IT. You can't tell me that he doesn't get all flustered and giddy over the height difference, I won't believe you if you do. One thing that I believe he'd love to do would take mirror pics with you. Like, the way that you can see that you're taller in the picture just makes him smile for some reason (he's whipped). His phone's wallpaper is most definitely a picture of you two like that. I also believe that he thinks it's cute the way he has to tiptoe to kiss your cheek (it is).

Seungmin

You can be the taller one, but he's the one defending you and giving you the royalty treatment all the way. One thing that I think he'd love tho is to steal your clothes. So like, if you left a sweatshirt in his place or something like this, don't expect to have it back so soon. He actually loves how he is just kinda engulfed in your (indirect?) warmth and he has something bringing him closer to you even when you're not near. And he kinda likes to flex that "this is from my partner" lmao.

I.N

Other one to get all shy over the height difference but never let you know about it (actually, you'll know. It's just so obviously shown in his face, just don't let him know that lol). But besides the casual flustering state he finds himself on at times, he really doesn't mind it. I'd say he barely notices it. When he does tho, he finds you extremely beautiful, like those ancient greek statues, and even sexy if I may.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Moodboard (pics) by @haelyubi

Reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

[inuyashaluver]

i love your lessi fics so much<3 could you do a j flex x non footballer reader where they are both really shy and r goes to a chelsea match and sees jessie after the match but the other tease them and they both get flustered or smthn? thank you!!!

a couple of shy guys - jessie fleming

jessie fleming x reader

description: in which being your girlfriend’s wag still makes her extremely shy

warnings: swearing, suggestive

a/n: hiya, lovely! thanks so much for the love request, enjoy!! ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, jessie are both incredibly shy people. it wasn’t uncommon for both of you support pink cheeks around each other when the other merely glances your way. it took a long time for either of you to make a move.

—

in 2020, you were studying in a cafe. you were currently a medical student studying to be a doctor while working at a small pub. the icy chill in england prompting you to bundle up and stay in the warm cafe as you tiredly read over your notes.

this cafe was your second home, it was extremely close to your house, as well as your uni, comforting and convenient all at the same time.

“to go please” the cafe was mainly filled with locals, so you couldn’t help but lift your head when you heard the unfamiliar canadian accent filling the atmosphere.

she was gorgeous, dressed in a training kit as she waited near the counter for her drink, scrolling mindlessly on her phone. ironically, your name was called, you hesitate but walk over to the counter.

“excuse me” you say softly, moving past the brunette quickly to retrieve your warm drink. she lifts her head from her phone and moves over, looking at one of the most beautiful girls in front of her.

“oh, uh, y-you’re all good” jessie breathes out, internally cursing herself for stuttering. you look up at her and make eye contact, nearly dropping your drink in the process but smiling at her shyly nonetheless, taking in her pink cheeks and chelsea jacket adorning her body. “thanks” you smile, when you turn away from her, you scrunch up your face, why were you so awkward?

jessie glances at you longingly before she walks out, desperately wanting to go up to you but shutting herself down, she needs to go to training, she can’t afford to miss her first day. you watch as she leaves, shaking your head at yourself for not having the guts to even talk to her.

—

a few days go by and you’re returning to your flat from uni, struggling to hold all your textbooks in your arms as your bag was too full. your hands were fumbling with your keys when you hear footsteps approaching making you nervous and prompting you to speed up, you just couldn’t find the right key.

it was when you dropped one of the books from the top of the pile that you lost all your patience.

“oh for fucks sake” you groan, leaning down to pick up the book before dropping all of them in the process. you huff out in frustration, about to pick them up before two hands beat you to it.

you stare at the hands carefully collecting your books before looking up to see the girl from the cafe. you look at her absolutely starstruck.

“hi, (y/n)” she says nervously, holding the pile of books in her arms, you swallow the lump in your throat when she remembers your name from the cafe. “hello” you breathe out, fiddling with your keys for a second just looking at each other.

“you live here?” jessie questions, nodding her head to the door you were standing in front of. “oh, yeah! sorry” you laugh nervously, hands shakily unlocking the door before turning around to her with a bashful expression.

she smiles at you, her cheeks pink, she gently hands you the stack of books and you look at her appreciatively.

“thank you so much..” you pause, she smiles, “jessie” filling in the blank, you nod repeating her name in your head, “jessie, thank you, really” you say relieved, she smiles sympathetically, “rough day?” she guessed, you looked exhausted and you were. one of your final exams for your third year at uni was fast approaching and it was taking a huge toll on your body.

“yeah, you could say that” you say with a little laugh, “i’ll let you go” she says reluctantly, moving to unlock her door which was coincidentally across from yours. you smile and give her a little wave, closing your door and immediately thumping your head on the back of it. it was a perfect opportunity to ask for her number and you didn’t do it. little did you know, jessie was doing the same thing in the back of her door.

—

it was a saturday, you were working your regular shift at the local pub. you were pouring a beer for one of your regulars until you heard a loud chatter of female voices coming in. you look up from the tap to see none other than jessie with a couple of other girls behind her.

your eyes widen and the beer overflows, “fuck, sorry, george, i’ll pour you a new one” you say apologetically, quickly grabbing another glass and getting rid of the old one. “don’t stress, love” you were alone, as it was a usually a quiet pub but not anymore.

you give him the new one and he thanks you, moving to another table while you wipe down the bar.

that’s when a familiar brunette makes her way, laughing loudly with a taller girl. “excuse me?” jessie asks politely, eyes widening in shock when you turn around. she looks down at your work uniform, a tight pair of black shorts with a black shirt making her heart pound out of her chest.

the taller looks at her with a knowing smirk, nudging the girl forward when she ogles over you.

“hi, (y/n)? you work here?” she asked a little too excitedly, you nod shyly, “hey, jessie, can i get you girls anything?” you ask sweetly, jessie swears she melted into a puddle right there.

“i’m niamh” the taller girl points out, sticking her hand out for a handshake which you gladly take, “niamh, nice to meet you” you laugh, “nice to meet you too” she smiles, giving another shove to jessie when she looks at you bewildered.

“can i just have a beer, please?” niamh smirks, you nod and grab a glass to pour her one. “jess?” you question, her breath hitches at the nickname she’s heard thousands of times but never from your pretty voice. “oh! um, i’ll just get a beer too” she rushes out, “please” she adds, her cheeks crimson when you giggle.

you get them both their drinks and smile, telling them it was on the house despite the refusal from the two girls, you sent them on their way to the rest of their friends.

after a short time of you and jessie stealing glances at each other, you anxiously walk up to their table to clear the glasses, hearing little “thank you”’s as you clear each person’s glass. when you approach jessie, you smile shyly, pointing to her glass.

“can i get that for you?” she nods and smiles back at you, your eyes suddenly fall to a medal hanging on her neck that you didn’t see at the bar.

you mindlessly pick it up off her chest and look over it. you hear jessie stop breathing and you look up to see how close you were in proximity. “sorry!” you blurted, taking a little step back. jessie just shakes her head and looks at you, both of you have the pinkest cheeks, it was painfully obvious you had something there.

you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder, looking up to see niamh smiling at you sweetly. “we just won a championship, we’re here to celebrate” niamh informed, quickly glancing at jessie, “this one over here got us the winning goal” you look at jessie impressed, trying not to laugh at the glare she sent to niamh.

“well, congratulations!” you emphasised, “you didn’t tell me you were a footballer?” you tease, jessie coughs, “it’s not a big deal” she shrugs, completely embarrassed for some reason. you shake your head, “of course it’s a big deal” you assure, taking her glass and throwing her another smile,

“you should come and watch us!” niamh teases, throwing you a wink that you laugh at. “maybe i will” you shrug before walking back to the bar. you didn’t miss the harsh slap jessie gave niamh as you walked away, chuckling to yourself in the process.

the bar was emptying, and you were close to closing. niamh waves at you before walking out with some other girls, leaving jessie alone at the table. she looks nervous but she walks up to you anyway. “did you want to walk home together?” she offers with a shy smile, you look at her surprised, “sure!” you say a little too excitedly, causing you to cringe when she giggles at you.

you close up and walk alongside jessie, sharing shy giggles and small talk to the short walks to both of your places. when you walk on the busy streets with cars zooming past, jessie subconsciously places a hand on your waist to move you to the inside of the sidewalk. your cheeks were burning and you tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible.

when you both got inside, you wave, sharing quick bye’s before heading inside. you both touch your warm cheeks behind closed doors, smiling at the thought of all the interactions you had with each other that night.

—

you and jessie continuously ran into each other almost everyday, both of you questioning whether it was truly coincidental or not.

it took another shift at the pub for jessie to finally ask you out, the newfound confidence coming from niamh teasing the girl that she would ask you out if jessie didn’t.

“hi” she says shakily as she approaches you, you smile lazily at the girl, absolutely exhausted but seeing her perks you up. “hello” you smile, “another one?” you question, she shakes her head and swallows. “no, uh, i wanted to ask you something” she says nervously, you smile and cross your arms on the bar, leaning forward to be closer to her.

she visibly tenses but shakes it off at seeing your encouraging smile.

“would you maybe want to go on a date with me sometime?” she fiddles with the rings on her fingers as she rests her hands on the bar, yours were close to hers. at seeing her fidgeting, you don’t know what happened but your hand moved on its own, moving to rest over the top of hers. “i’d love to jessie” you give her hand a reassuring squeeze, her face fills with relief, a big smile making way to her features.

“great!” she smiles, you smile shyly at her, “could i get your number to text you?” you ask, hand still tingling on top of hers. “yeah sure!” she expressed, fishing her phone out of her pocket and handing it over to hers, you take your hand off hers to get your own out, handing it over to her.

you exchange numbers and she grins happily at you, “i’ll wait for you?” jessie offered, you shake your head at her, she wanted to walk you home and you’re not sure if your heart could take it at the moment.

“no, no, you don’t have to” you promised but she didn’t care, “i want to,” she reassured, you smile sheepishly, moving to grab her hand again and giving it a thankful squeeze, you watch as the blood rushes to her cheeks when you part, awkwardly waving at you before walking away.

you watch as she walks away, niamh throws you a smirk, mouthing, “you’re welcome” as she sends you a big thumbs up, you nod and throw her one back, shaking your head amusingly as you clean up.

—

you and jessie met up for your date, going extremely well and turning into 4 dates until she finally asked you to be her girlfriend. the first time you came to jessie’s game, she had a heart attack seeing you in the bleachers in her jersey. running over and giving you a shy hug and a kiss to your cheek.

—

in present times, you and jessie moved into a whole new place with each other, dating for over 2.5 years. you’re both incredibly in love with each other, anything but shy in the privacy in your home. it was until you were in public that you and jessie returned to being a couple of shy guys. something you’re teased about relentlessly.

you’ve completed your 5 years of university and are now completing your foundational program. jessie was so proud of you, bragging about how her gorgeous girlfriend was a doctor. not saying that you didn’t have your fair share of bragging, frequently gushing over your extremely talented, footballer girlfriend to anyone who would listen.

—

one day, jessie was set to play a match for chelsea, you had time off work and uni, deciding to surprise your girlfriend at her match. you smile when she dozes on your chest, stirring when you card a hand through her hair to wake her up. “happy game day” you say softly, making the girl smile tiredly and bury her face into your chest, giving you a little kiss on your sternum as she nuzzles into you.

“wish you were coming” she mumbles into your shirt, lifting her face up and puckering her lips. you giggle and pull her down to you, kissing her lips tenderly as she squeezes your hips gently, her thumbs dipping under your shirt to graze your skin.

you hum into her mouth, making her smirk against your lips, she pulls away with a peck, peppering kisses on your cheeks before kissing you longingly one more time on the lips.

you smile as you watch her get changed into her kit, winking as she catches you shamelessly checking her out. “bye, baby” she whispers against your lips as she kisses you goodbye and goes to the grounds. as soon as she pulls out of the driveway, you rush off to get ready yourself.

putting on her jersey always has you pink in the cheeks, proud to be representing the name of the girl you loved so much.

once you were ready, you head over to the grounds and sit down, you were early but you didn’t mind, rocking up in the friends and family section with an excited smile.

when the girls come out for warm ups, jessie out of instinct looks at the section you were in, hoping you’d be there and being shocked when you were. her face lights up, waving at you excitedly when you wave at her shyly. you blow her a quick kiss and she smiles brightly, immediately getting teased for her pink cheeks.

“you’ve already got her and you’re still the same” niamh coos and laughs, getting a little shove from jessie before they warm up.

—

the game concludes, chelsea winning and jessie getting a goal. you smile as she bounds over to you, holding your arms out for a hug. she wraps you in her arms tightly, you let out a little yelp of surprise when she lifts you over the barrier, still hugging her tightly, your legs now around her waist.

“baby!” you say proudly, pulling back and cupping her face in between your hands, “my superstar” you kiss her cheek, “my goal scorer” another kiss, “my girl” you conclude, giving her a longer kiss on her cheek. her cheek grows warm at your contact, hands gripping you tightly.

“i’m so happy you’re here,” she says earnestly, placing you on the ground and tugging you into another tight hug.

she kisses you sweetly and briefly, immediately hearing the cheers and wolf whistling from her teammates around her. she rolls her eyes, tucking her head into the crook of your neck, her lips grazing your skin.

“you’re so cute” you coo, scratching the back of her neck gently and holding her close. she groans in embarrassment, walking you backwards towards the change rooms, her face still tucked away.

she sits you in her cubby, kissing your lips sweetly before running off to the shower, rushing to get you home.

“hello, doctor (y/n)” niamh teases, both of you small talking until your girlfriend comes back to you puffed out. “i’m ready, let’s go” she breathes out, you both bid goodbye to everyone and make your way to her car.

she opens your door for you and you kiss her quickly to show your appreciation. as soon as she gets in, her hand seeks refuge on her regular spot on your thigh, squeezing it gently when you hold it in your hands.

“thank you for coming today, baby” she says appreciatively, grabbing one of your hands and pulling it up to her mouth to place a kiss on the back of it. “of course, babe, gotta be a faithful wag” you say cheekily, making her laugh and look at you lovingly.

you both cuddled when you got home, she showed you her appreciation for you coming to the match and you were both extremely blissful.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by niamhcharles17 and 44,232 others

_jessflem: when she’s a doctor, absolutely gorgeous and is unbelievably a bonus as my girlfriend ❤️

view all comments

yourname: my pretty baby, absolute superstar

↳ _jessflem: my pretty wag

↳ yourname: better achievement than my degree honestly

niamhcharles17: you’re so welcome guys!!

↳ yourname: niamhy for the win

↳ niamhcharles17: never forget i’m here when your little girlfriend is gone

↳ _jessflem: watch it.

[soullumii]

it's a risk but babe, i need the thrill | joel miller x f!reader

part 1, part 2

summary: everything finally comes to a head

warnings: 18+!!! smut! unprotected piv, gentle smut

tags: angst, reconciliation, fluff, pining, smut (but it's light compared to the other two parts), halloween vibes (i was supposed to finish this in october, oops)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: guys. i am SO SORRY for the wait. this was so hard for me to finish i almost gave up so many times. i'm still unhappy with this but i can't make myself work on it anymore so here u go. thank you all so much for your patience, i really appreciate it. special thank you to @joelsfaveouritegirl for your support... i probably would've never finished this if it weren't for you, so thank you. <3. and thanks to all of you who kept me accountable. i hope you enjoy this fucking mess. also, this is probably the last joel fic i'll write for a while. i'm sorry. still, i hope you like this.

______________________________________________________________

There are only two seasons in Jackson, Wyoming: winter and not winter.

Where other states might have a gradual shift from warm to cold, in Wyoming, it’s like a slap to the face, quite literally. The moment you step into the evening October air, it feels as if you’ve walked into a wall of cold. 

You shiver in your thick coat, and pull your scarf over your frosty nose as you meander down to the plaza.

While Jackson residents enjoy their time indoors and close to the fireplace during the colder months, they still love to celebrate outdoors, relying on their booze to keep them warm.

You don’t stop by Joel’s for a drink this time, he’s likely already in town square, dragged there by his daughter. Or… sort of daughter. He’s told you how he feels about Ellie, but the girl has her own opinions. Sure, she might deny that he’s like her dad, but she sure as hell treats him like he is. 

You’re meeting them there. 

The stars are already twinkling in the sky when you reach the throng of people. All of Jackson’s residents are in the plaza tonight for Halloween, dressed in homemade costumes and ones raided from the Party City in Idaho Falls. Jack-o-lanterns glow menacingly in corners and scarecrows are propped against brick walls. A few people in particularly frightening costumes prowl about, startling kids and adults alike.

Stalls line the edges of the plaza, each one providing something different. Tipsy Bison’s stall is run by Tommy, serving alcohol for the adults of the town. Seth’s stall is serving pork and brisket sandwiches. There’s a few stalls down the road advertising pumpkins and pastries, and you get a whiff of apple cider. Barrels of fire are scattered about to provide warmth. Lights are strung from the roofs of buildings, spread across the road, like clothes on a clothesline. 

It’s incredibly cozy, and already, you feel much warmer than you did walking out of your house. 

Within moments of passing Seth’s stall you hear Ellie’s voice ring out. 

“She's here!”

You can’t see her weaving through the crowd but you can see Joel trailing behind, his arm trapped in front of him. He politely excuses himself and apologizes to those he bumps into as his daughter drags him through a crowd of people. 

You can’t help but laugh, especially when you hear him say, “Jesus, kid, slow down.” 

And then she’s in front of you, smiling and bouncing excitedly on her heels, dressed as one of the superheroes from the comics she reads. Joel is behind her wearing a black blindfold with the eyes cut out, and a felt superhero crest is stitched to the front of his black sweater. He looks very adorable. Clearly, Ellie forced him to dress up. His gaze catches yours, full of something you can’t quite grasp, a small, embarrassed smile on his lips.

“Hi,” he says, voice soft.

“Hi,” you repeat.

It’s been… well… you’re not quite sure how to describe how it’s been since you told him to stop kissing you. 

It’s not like you guys have stopped seeing each other since then. Or that it’s been more awkward or anything. It just feels as if you’ve been depriving your body of what it needs, like you’re actively starving yourself. 

You’d feel full while he was fucking you, and yet there was a hole in your chest, gnawing at your thoughts, a hunger so deep rooted that it’s been taking you longer to come. 

Joel had noticed, too. Noticed your struggle and your frustration. He took it as something he was doing wrong, even though you insisted that wasn’t the case. Still, he took his time with you, trying to meet all your needs, and that, funnily enough, just made you feel worse. 

Your meetings have grown fewer. Sometimes you would go a couple weeks without seeing each other—at least like that.  Funny, how before you were so upset when he hadn’t been with you for a while. And now… now the distance is needed.

You still went out to dinner with him and Tommy and Maria. You still stopped by to say hi to Ellie and ask Joel how he’s been. Things have been normal, besides the overwhelming feeling of longing that strikes your breast the moment you see him. 

You worry that it shows on your face, especially because of the dreams you’ve been having, like some lovesick teenager. Dreams that don’t involve just having sex. Dreams that frame the two of you as lovers, as parents as… growing old together. 

Sometimes you’ll wake up crying, wondering if maybe you should just stop seeing him, talking to him, being around him all together. But then you’ll see him in town, or on patrols, and you know you’d never be able to stay away.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, and turn your attention to Ellie. 

“Hey kiddo!” You greet, plastering a smile on. She doesn’t seem to notice your being off. 

“You’re not dressed up,” she remarks, arms crossing over her chest. 

“Um. Yes I am,” you gesture to your black sweater and black pants. “I’m a black cat.” 

“You don’t even have ears or whiskers and a nose. That's a terrible costume.” 

Joel squeezes her shoulder with a frown. “Hey, quit.”

“No, she’s fine. She’s right,” you sigh. “This was super last minute.” 

“Cat is doing face painting down by the haunted house. You should let her paint some whiskers on you.” 

You take a glance at Joel and he shrugs. God he looks ridiculous in that costume. Your heart constricts. You might as well be as ridiculous as him. 

“That sounds great,” you say. Ellie looks like she’s about to drag you there when Dina comes running around the corner, practically slamming into her. 

“Hey!” Ellie laughs, “Slow down.” 

“You have to come with me. We’re going to do the haunted house, Jesse is already waiting for us. Come on,” Dina says, and pulls Ellie away before you and Joel can say a thing. 

The two of you stand there for a moment, watching the kids with fond smiles before finally looking at each other. 

His gaze seems to soften impossibly more when it lands on you.

“Your costume is kinda lame,” he says after a moment. 

“Oh shut up.”

**

The paintbrush glides smoothly over your skin as Cat paints the tip of your nose black and whiskers on your cheeks. You keep sneaking glances at Joel who waits patiently for your face painting session to finish.

Once you’re done you stride over to him, grinning.

“Well?” You prompt, turning around and showing off your newly improved costume. “Not so lame anymore, huh?”

He chuckles, eyes roaming your figure. Heat simmers low in your belly at the glint in his dark eyes. “Much better.”

He pauses, eyes catching on your face. “Hey, wait.” He grabs your hand and pulls you in close. He’s warm, a nice contrast to the cool October air. You want to just snuggle up to him, wriggle your fingers up under his sweater to share his warmth.

“You got a little somethin’…” he trails off, hand coming up to press his thumb to your skin. He gently wipes off a stray black smudge from beneath your eye. It takes no less than five seconds, yet it feels like an eternity. Your chest presses into his, his hand is warm as it cups your cheek. His breath puffs against your lips, an almost kiss. And his eyes, focused so dearly on the smudge, slowly drift up to lock with yours. 

“Perfect,” he mumbles, gaze never straying from yours. His hand never leaves your cheek, his thumb brushing carefully below your eye once more, a soft, subconscious caress now.

“Thanks,” you breathe.

Time feels like it’s stopped. 

A kid rushes by with a delighted scream as another kid in a costume chases after him. You and Joel jolt apart, snapped back into motion.

He clears his throat and you swallow hard.

“You want somethin’ to drink?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

***

Tommy is beaming with his own little flush of alcohol when you and Joel come across his stall.

Maria hangs by his side, but her eyes follow every action happening around you. Ever the diligent leader.

“Howdy,” Tommy says, and Maria takes the time to glance over at the two of you with a welcoming smile.

“Hey,” Joel says, and you nod your head in greeting.

“You guys lookin’ for a drink?” Tommy asks. “We’ve got spiked apple cider.”

You bounce excitedly on your toes at that. Joel laughs lightly at the way your expression brightens. “We’ll take two.”

“Comin’ right up.”

“You’ve done a great job planning for this, Maria. Everything looks amazing,” you say.

She turns to you, and to your surprise, she looks a bit bashful. “Thanks. Everyone on the council helped a lot. I’m glad we can provide something fun like this.”

“The kids really need it.”

“I think the adults do, too. It’s nice to be able to scream without it being true fear.”

“Amen to that,” Tommy pipes up and sets two mugs of steaming spiked apple cider down. 

“Thanks, Tommy,” Joel says, and hands you a mug.

“There’s a haunted house down the road, you guys should go check it out. Laney and Paul spent a long time on it,” Maria says.

“We will, thanks. See you guys around!”

You wave goodbye to them and make your way through the plaza. Joel’s hand finds the small of your back, warm and steady. You’re glad for it, as scarers prowl along the streets, jumping out randomly and thrusting their hands in your face.

The haunted house lingers at the edge of the road like a ghost. Party City decorations blot the yard: gravestones, plastic skeletons, witches with rotted cloaks. It’s like everything they could manage to carry was dumped here. 

A line curves outside the door, kids bouncing on their feet as they await their turns. You feel a little ridiculous joining them, being your age, but Joel probably feels even more ridiculous so you push the thought from your mind.

“I’m actually kind of nervous,” you tell him as screams ring out from within the house.

“This thing ain’t nearly as terrifyin’ as the real world,” Joel says.

“Yeah, but still. I’ve never been a fan of being scared.” 

Joel takes a sip of his spiked apple cider and shrugs. “I’ll protect ya.”

“My hero,” you coo and run your hand over the superhero crest stitched to his chest. He smiles. 

Soon enough you’re at the door. 

“You go first,” you tell Joel, and shove him in front of you, but you don’t let go of him.

"Good to know you're not afraid to throw me to the wolves."

"Your sacrifice will not be in vain."

He rolls his eyes but lets you fist one of your hands in his sweater and hold onto his arm with the other. You peer around him as the two of you venture inside. 

A radio plays spooky sounds from all directions as you trail behind Joel through the house. Your eyes flit across every crevice, searching for who is going to scare you. Still, you don’t notice everything.

From seemingly nowhere, someone pops out in a Michael Meyers mask with a fake knife. You screech and hold tight to Joel. He hardly even flinches.

“How are you so chill?” you ask with a pout once you’ve recovered. Red lights flash in the hallway. Your voice is shaking. God, you’re a wimp.

“Because I’ve got someone I need to protect. I can’t act all scared, now, can I?”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s just making shit up. He’s not scared at all.

You get closer and closer to him as the house progresses. Your hands are now interlinked, your cheek pressed against the warm muscle of his shoulder blades. You’re practically on top of him, trying to stay as close as possible. 

Even with Joel acting so nonchalant, you’re scared. You get jump scared a few more times as you continue, thankful that your hands are preoccupied with holding onto Joel else you might’ve punched one of the scarers.

Eventually you make it to the end in one piece, your heart racing. You know it’s ridiculous—Ellie probably got through this with a straight face. Still, it’s kind of fun, being scared. You’re giggling into Joel’s sweater by the end of it, and he’s tucked you into his side, hand still interlocked with yours as you meander back to the plaza.

Warmth blossoms in your chest. Is this what it would be like if you were truly together? You feel the urge to push up on your toes to kiss him, but you shove it down. Guilt tugs at the back of your mind at the thought. 

“You’re such a scaredy cat, I guess that costume is fittin’,” he muses, rubbing warmth into your waist.

“Sorry we can’t all be macho men like you."

You go to pull away, to create some distance. You can’t keep getting close to him like this. It weighs too heavily on your heart. But Joel squeezes your hand and tugs you back into his side, and you’re so very weak. You melt into him despite yourself.

“I think you rather like my macho-ness,” he says.

Heat pools in your belly at the smirk on his face, the darkness in his eyes. You avert your gaze with a small smile, warmth coloring your cheeks. “Yeah right.”

He turns toward you, towering over you. His hand splays heavily on your hip, and you shudder. “Playin’ coy now, huh? Where was this yesterday when���“

“Joel!” Ellie screeches, skidding to a stop in front of the two of you. You feel the urge to jerk away, but Joel only shifts so that he’s no longer in your face. He still keeps you close. 

“What’s up kiddo?” 

“There’s a campfire, everyone’s asking us to play a song.” 

That piques your interest. Joel has played guitar for you a couple times, though he’s always very shy about it. You’ve stumbled across him playing on his own with no one to watch. It’s fascinating what the music does to him.

It’s like he’s transported somewhere else, his eyes closed as his fingers pluck the strings of his guitar, his foot tapping to the beat, his head nodding along as his hands tell a story through the notes. 

You’ve never seen him play a whole song like that, he’s always noticed you before he could ever finish. And when you’d ask him to keep playing, there was a bit of stiltedness. You realized it was nervousness… he wanted you to be impressed, to like what he was doing. 

You’re not sure how you ever could dislike his playing. 

“You should do it,” you say. 

Joel’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “I dunno—“

“What, you’re not scared, are you?” you tease.

“Don't talk to me about being scared. Pretty sure you stretched out my sweater with how hard you were holding onto me,” he counters. 

“Will you two stop bickering like a married couple? Joel, they’re waiting. Come on!” Ellie says and grabs his hand, tugging him along. You laugh as you follow, though her little comment sticks in your mind. 

***

Joel settles down on a log with his guitar in his lap. Ellie sits at his side. You got a spot a couple logs away, so you could get a good view of them. The campfire lights his silver hair copper, reflecting like stars off the wood of his guitar. 

“Any fans of Bread here?” he asks, and a few hoots and hollers sound out. Joel laughs at that, and Ellie rolls her eyes. You've never heard of the band, but you wait with bated breath. They tune their guitars, and then Joel takes a deep breath and counts down. 

One, two, three, four…

Soft strumming fills the air. Ellie keeps the main melody, but Joel plucks more of the details. He sings first.

Baby I’m-a want you

Baby I’m-a need you

You’re the only one I care enough to hurt about

His voice is smooth, a bit shaky from the nerves, but it washes over you like a warm wave of water. Immediately, you’re drawn in. It’s unrealistic, but you still think that Joel could save the world with his voice. It’s scratchy but soft, if one can be both of those things at the same time.

He looks up through his lashes, his gaze catching yours.

Maybe I’m-a crazy, but I just can’t live without

your lovin’ and affection… givin’ me direction

Like a guiding light to help me through my darkest hours

Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be-a stayin’

Beside me…

Your breath catches in your throat while he sings.

It’s just a song, you tell yourself. But the way he’s looking at you… it’s as if everyone else has disappeared. As if the words were created specifically for you. As if… as if maybe he chose this song for a reason…

Ellie picks up the prechorus with her angelic voice, and you’re brought back into the present. But then Joel starts the solo, his eyelids fluttering shut as the music takes over him. His head nods along to notes as he plucks each one out with precision and skill. His foot taps in time with the beat, and people cheer, but you can’t stop staring. 

The solo ends all too soon, but Joel’s voice merges beautifully with Ellie’s harmonies back on the prechorus once more. 

Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be a stayin’

Beside me…

Used to be my life was just emotions passin’ by. 

Then you came along and made me laugh and made me cry

He gives you a small grin, secret, for no one else but you.

You taught me why…

Baby I’m-a want you. 

Baby I’m-a need you. 

Oh, it took so long to find you baby

Baby I’m-a want you.

Baby I’m-a need you.

Your chest constricts at the sight of him, at the sound of the last few notes being plucked expertly by his fingers. At the blend of his voice with Ellie’s. You can't bear to sit here at this campfire, watching him only as a friend, a fellow neighbor, just like everyone else. You want him to sing this song for you. To know that it’s only you he’s thinking of as the last few strings are plucked by his nimble fingers, ringing out into the dark, cold night. That it’s only you he sees clapping and cheering him on. But you can’t even grant him that, already on your feet the moment the song ends, practically sprinting away from the campfire as your throat grows tight and tears spring to your eyes.

You hope no one has noticed. You hope the footsteps you can hear crunching on crimson leaves are just someone walking past. Of course they’re not though.

“Are you okay?” the familiar timbre of Joel’s voice asks.

God, no! Why! 

You frantically wipe the tears from your eyes, sniffling snot so it doesn’t drip down your lip and betray you. 

“Oh,” you start, and internally curse the way your voice shakes. You turn toward the one who has been unraveling you at the seams with a trembling smile. “Hi, Joel.”

“Christ, what’s wrong, baby?”

“Don’t—don’t call me baby,” you say, and it’s not at all what you mean to say. You mean to just reassure, to just brush this off and bury it deep inside and never let it out. But you don’t. 

Joel’s face hardens, and he steps in closer with a hand stretched out but at the look on your face, thinks better of touching you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he says. “Why are you crying? What happened?”

Nothing. It was just a pretty song.

Was it for me?

Nothing. I’m just being hormonal.

Do those lyrics mean something to you?

Nothing. 

Enough. Enough with the excuses and the rules and the lies. 

“You happened,” you spit. 

He takes a surprised step back. “What?”

“You and your stupid fucking—your stupid fucking friends with benefits and your stupid fucking big heart and your stupid fucking guitar happened, Joel.”

This is probably the first time you’ve ever rendered Joel speechless outside of sex. He looks so stupid standing there staring at you with his wide eyes and his dropped jaw. And yet all you want to do his pull him in and hug him and tell him how much you love his stupid fucking face. Instead, you take a step back. 

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” he mutters. “You’re freezin’. Let’s head back to my place, we can talk about it there—“

“No. No. I won’t let you just fuck me and then pretend like whatever’s between us doesn’t exist.”

“That’s not—“ he starts, but then must register what you said because his brows furrow over his ice cold gaze. “Me? I pretend like it doesn’t exist?” 

“Yes!”

“No I don’t. You’re the one that told me you didn’t want me to kiss you anymore. You’re the one that’s been keepin’ me at arm's length all this time. You’re the one pretending.”

You go to yell back at him, to deny, but the realization that he’s right kills the words in your throat, and you fall silent. 

Joel steps closer, his voice dropping. “You can act like I’m the one that’s been torturing you as much as you like, but it just ain’t true.” 

His eyes flit across your face wildly, taking in the tears in your eyes, the tremble of your lips, the tint of your cheeks from the cold. He softens.

“Darlin' I... I have been in love with you since the first time I heard you laugh. Since the first time you even glanced my way. Every god damn day is torture wanting all of you when all I can have is some of you.”

You can’t speak, can hardly even breathe. 

“If you don’t want to make this anythin’ other than sex, just tell me,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw. His breath condenses into steam in the cold air. “Tell me you want to keep pretending, and we can keep pretending."

“I…I don’t.” You shake your head. “I don’t want to keep pretending.”

His nose brushes yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Tell me you don’t want more.”

You swallow harshly. “I want more.” 

“Tell me you’re sorry you made me stop kissing you.”

“Please, kiss me, Joel.”

“You’re not very good at followin’ directions, are you?” he says, grinning, and you can’t help but laugh into the kiss when he pulls you in.

His lips are soft, deliberate when they meet yours. He coaxes you open, makes you slow down, pulls you into it so you feel it entirely. Reminds you of what you were missing when you forbade him from kissing you. 

God, you missed it so much. Missed him. 

Joel’s arms wind around your waist, his hands sliding along the fabric of your coat, and it’s so cold but god you wish you had less layers on right now. You’re sure the warmth of his hands could keep you from hypothermia. 

“I’m sorry I forbade you from kissing me,” you say. 

He hums, “I guess I can forgive you. Might need some convincing.”

“Oh shut up,” you grin, and pull him back in again. 

“I hate pretending like I don’t love you,” he murmurs against your lips, hands gripping your waist.

“You… really love me?”

“Did you not hear my speech earlier?” 

“I did. I just… can’t really believe it.”

He pulls you in close and gently grasps your jaw with his large hands. He kisses you again, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. 

His lips find the corner of your mouth. “I love you,” he says. 

A kiss to your cheek. “I love you.”

A kiss to your eyelid. “I love you.” 

When he pulls back, he’s smiling again. It’s strange to see Joel smile. He really doesn’t do it often around anyone. But you guess you’re an exception.

All that time you had spent pushing him away, agonizing over how much you loved him, fearing that he’d leave you if you so much had hinted that you were in love with him, only for him to be in love with you all this time? Holy shit. The world feels like it’s turned upside down. 

“Okay, I think I believe you now,” you say in a laugh. 

“You haven’t said it back, which I guess is alright—“

“I love you too, Joel,” you interrupt. 

He softens again. “I love you,” he murmurs, and pulls you in again for another toe curling kiss. God, you were an idiot for making him stop.

He wipes the tears from your eyes with a calloused thumb. “Your face paint is smudgin’.” 

“It was a stupid costume anyway.”

“No, it's cute. But…” Joel glances about, lips quirking in a smirk. He leans down, and his voice is so low you almost don’t hear it. “I think it would look better on my floor.”

“Well…” you fight the grin on your face, delighting in the heat curling low within you. “I guess since you love me and we’re kissing again and aren’t exactly friends anymore… we could really put that statement to the test.” 

“I think we should,” he says, and leans down to kiss your neck. 

You hum in approval. “What about Ellie?”

“She had plans to go to Dina’s after the festival,” he says, between kisses. “Come over, please? Or do I need to send you a letter with a wax stamp and everythin’?”

“Well… since you said please, I guess that will do.”

The whole walk to his place he has his arm slung about your waist, proudly displaying that you’re his. 

You nuzzle yourself into his side, grateful for his warmth and companionship. Your heart feels so full, so light, as if you might actually drift up into the air. Thank god Joel is holding you to keep you grounded. 

You smile at Maria and Tommy when you pass by them, and they exchange a look that says something like Finally. 

Then you’re at his house, and he’s unlocking the door and letting you go in first. And this time when you’re welcomed inside, you’re no longer worrying about rules or how you feel, or how you might fuck this up. It’s so fucking freeing. 

Joel doesn’t ravish you the moment the door closes. Instead, he kind of just stares at you. 

You squirm under his attention, growing self conscious. “What?”

He smiles, hands gravitating to your hips. “Nothin’. I just love you.” 

You grin. “I love you too.” 

He kisses you again, and you don’t think you could ever get enough of it. You kisses you roughly against the door, hips colliding with yours, over and over, and soon enough you’re shaking with want. Mind muddled, whispering a single word into his ear, “Bedroom.” 

It feels different here this time. All those times in the past had felt restrained, now, everything feels exactly as it should. 

When before you used to strip down quickly just to get him inside you, this time, you both take your time. He carefully unwraps you like a present as he noses kisses down your throat. He peels your thick black sweater off, and slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders, his dark eyes locked with yours. Joel reaches behind you and undoes the clasp with ease. You can hardly hold back your shaky sigh. 

Your hands smooth over his sweater-clad chest before pulling it up and over his head. That jagged scar is there on his stomach, a reminder of everything he’s been through. You run your hand along it, and he shudders. 

“Sit down,” he says. 

You sit on the edge of the bed, and he kneels before you. Then, he grabs your boot-clad foot and sets it on his thigh. He undoes the laces and carefully takes the boot off. He does the other, and then hooks his fingers around your waistband and pulls it and your panties off together. 

“I was right,” he says. “It really does look better on my floor.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, and pull him back into you. His lips catch yours gently, but the kiss intensifies when your mouth parts eagerly as his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips. His tongue slips in, and a moan tumbles out of you as your hands scrabble at his shoulder blades, your nails lightly scratching over thin scars.

His nose squishes against your cheek, and his large, hot hands slide up and down your body, like he just can’t keep them still. Like he wants to catalog all of you right now, remember it forever. 

He rocks against you, still confined in his jeans, but you can feel the hard shape of him brushing against your sensitive core, the friction incredibly delicious. Your hands find his button and zipper, undoing them both with as much concentration as you can muster, though it’s really difficult when he’s kissing you like you contain all of the world’s oxygen. 

Finally, he allows you to breathe, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin of your throat as he mouths hot kisses down your skin. He grips one of your thighs, setting it against his hip, large, rough fingers splaying across the whole of it. God, you love how easily you fit in his palms.

He grinds his hips into you over and over and you moan, aching for the feel of him inside you. You tug at his waistband again. “Joel, please take these off already.” 

“Not yet,” he says, and releases your leg, his hand skating across the skin of your thigh, brushing gently along, making you shudder in his hold. You can feel the warmth of his fingers as he nears where you want him most. 

And then, his fingers are on you, swirling in gentle circles, unraveling you at the seams. Your head hits the mattress and your back arches. He knows exactly what to do to make you putty in his hands, has had so much time to practice. But this time, it feels so much better, knowing now that he loves you. That you’re more than just friends. 

Your palms find his face and you pull him in for a slow, meaningful kiss, trying to tell him just how thankful you are for him. How glad you are that he loves you. How sorry you are for not letting him kiss you. It’s kind of hard to kiss him, though, when he’s making you feel this good. Your fingers curl into his hair, tugging at it, and he moans into your mouth. 

He slips one, two fingers inside you, pumping them at a steady pace that has your hands gripping his hair tightly and your hips scrabbling for that pleasant release dangling in front of you. He urges you on with encouraging, quiet words, his dark eyes boring into yours. Your mind, body, and soul feel hot.

When his thumb finds your clit it’s only moments until you’re shattering against him, warmth flooding your body. Your hips jerk, your legs shaking as he takes you over the edge. 

“Pants off. Now,” you huff between breaths, and he finally listens. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Then, he shifts you up the bed… it reminds you of the first time the two of you had sex again after he was so busy. So much the same yet so different. His hand moves up your body, cups one of your breasts, kneading it gently. When his thumb ghosts over your nipple, you shiver. 

“You’re so beautiful, darlin’,” he murmurs, and grasps your knee, pulling it over his hip. 

And then he’s sliding in, and the stretch is blissful, so welcome, so familiar and yet so new. You hold onto him, keeping him close as he begins to move. You feel full, mind faraway with bliss.

“God, Joel-“ you hiss. 

He groans out your name, and it rumbles through you like rolling thunder. Lightning lights a fuse at the end of your spine. 

You’re out of control. He tends to do that to you. Make you angry, make you sad, draw all the emotions you tend to not want to deal with out of you. Frustrates you, makes you so hungry with want that you throw all semblance of rational thought away. And he likes it. You like it. 

God, you love him so much. 

You move together as one, pushing and pulling. Everything shrinks down to just this. Him. You. Where your bodies meet. 

“More,” you moan, and he huffs out a laugh, but obliges, thrusting into you deeper, harder, and you’re as tight as a bowstring. 

Every anxious thought, every worry, every single doubt dissipates with every movement of his hips. You shift your own to meet his thrusts, and soon he’s gasping into your skin, growling your name. His hand winds into your hair, and he breathes with you, eyes locked with yours. 

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs. “Come for me.” 

Well, who are you to deny him? He pushes you over the edge in an instant, your body going taught, eyes rolling back into your head. His name flows out of you like a mantra.

Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel. 

“I love you,” he says into your throat when he follows you, hips jerking with sloppy thrusts as he comes inside you. 

Joel collapses next to you, pulling you into him, his arm slung heavily across your waist. When you can finally catch your breath, you say, “I love you, too.”

His grin is sated, eyes heavy when he pulls you in for another deep kiss. “We’ve said that a lot, huh?”

“Just making up for lost time. I think it’s alright.” 

“I should’ve said it a lot sooner,” he says, calloused fingers brushing against your cheek as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“Me too. Telling you not to kiss me was really dumb.” 

“Probably not the smartest thing you’ve said.” 

You scoff in mock offense, pushing at his shoulder. “Asshole.” 

“Yeah, but you love me.”

You roll your eyes, but scoot further into him, laying your head on his chest. 

It might have been a risk to fall in love with your best friend, but God, you’re glad you did. 

“Yeah, I really do.”

[icyg4l]

PAC: Energy Check-In

Hello beautiful people! I have been so inconsistent with posting. Thank you all for your patience. But anyway, tonight's reading will consist of an energy check-in. We all need one, even me! Also, the Five Dollar Friday Sale will still happen! It will take place from 12 AM-11PM. Thank you guys so much for your support! Don't forget to check out the guidelines before booking with me. Dm me privately if you have any questions. Without further ado, please select your pile!

Left-to-Right: (1-3)

Pile One: I feel like you are currently trying to figure out what to do with yourself. I heard "I got so much energy!" in my head. Your sacral chakra is booming. I feel like you could be super horny or feeling like you need to create something. But you are trying to figure out a way to do this in an appropriate manner. The solution will come quick. There could be a partnership coming your way that will allow you to be more free flowing. It is essential at this time that you find ways to express yourself. Do not feed into self-limiting beliefs. You are prone to making impulsive decisions like dying your hair late at night or buying clothes that you won't even put on a year from now. Focus on what will fulfill you in the long run and stop trying to scratch an unscratchable itch. It will make you see things much easier.

Cards Used: 8 of Swords, 5 of Swords, The Hierophant, Ace of Wands, 8 of Wands, Queen of Wands.

Pile Two: Someone has you feeling real good. Princess treatment will do that to you. When you have the right people around you, you feel unstoppable. I heard "Who you feeling like?" in my head. Right now, you could be receiving lots of compliments, which boost your morale as a result. I am seeing a young girl toss her hair from side to side with her fingertips. In the back of your mind, you may worry about how long this version of you will last. You need to not allow the past comments of hate get to you at this time. Do not self-sabotage yourself because people could not see the light in you. Let the haters do the hating for you. You could have Saturn in the 12th house which relates to the subconscious. You need to have conversations with your inner child to heal. Move forward from the angst and the hurt people have caused you. Start anew. And most importantly, forgive yourself.

Cards Used: Ace of Wands, 2 of Cups, 10 of Cups, King of Discs, 4 of Cups, The Devil, 6 of Cups.

Pile Three: You are in this lover girl energy. It almost feels familiar --- the scenario that you have found yourself to be in. You need to look closer with this person. Everyone will pass your test if you don't do any further investigation. You have the tendency to get "stuck on" crushes for a long time. You could be prone to limerence. You are going to get the answer that you are looking for, a reality check. But it will be in your best interest, don't worry. You are trying to investigate from afar but this won't really benefit you. You need to pay close attention and start being less lenient. You're a cute girl and you know that, don't you? But what is cute if it means you lose your mind every time you find someone attractive? Part of your lesson in this life is to be more comfortable with accepting your beauty as is. You are not incomplete if you are not in an "OTP", love.

Cards Used: The Moon, The Empress, 4 of Discs, 4 of Wands, 10 of Cups, 5 of Wands, Justice, 2 of Discs

[thinkingotherwise]

Thanks for the request of Haruka & Bofurin gang with haruka's older sister s/o, but can you please do part 2 that her "friends & boyfriend“ came to her town & found her to beat the sh*t up but her brother & Bofurin gang protects her from her so called friends and boyfriend.

Part 2 incoming! Fight, fight, fight!

Wind Breaker characters x Haruka Sakura's older sister part 2

part 1, part 3

characters as written in prev request: Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suou, Akihiko Nirei, Hajime Umemiya, Kyotaro Sugishita, Ren Kaji, and Mitsuki Kiryu (all platonic) TW: bullying

- The next several weeks after kinda resolving some issues with your brother you spent with him and his friends. - They did all they could to make you feel better, and several attempts were made to support you in being even a little more open towards others. Mostly by Umemiya. - Although feeling awkward receiving their kindness and help, you still tried your best for Haruka. - You really wanted to make it up to him, he wasn't the one to blame for your bad choices of friends and you knew that you caused him a lot of harm by cutting him off so suddenly. - The two of you were very stiff and nervous during your sibling times and you would barely get closer, if it weren't for Nirei and Suou. They were so persistent and reliable in connecting you and your brother. - After all this help, you hesitated but finally decided and told Haruka and the Bofurin members that during your free time you could, once again very reluctantly, help them out and the townsfolks.

- You were helping out by painting the walls, with some of the guys, being Umemiya, Sugishita, and Mitsuki. - You secretly listened to the oldest boy talking with Mitsuki about some farming game, where you could also befriend other farmers. You'd lie saying that it didn't brighten up your day even a little. - You got to know that Umemiya was actually quite cool, if he didn't talk to you that much, so you appreciated Mitsuki for taking his attention. - Next thing you knew the old man came from around the corner with a young man who seemed very familiar, too familiar. - He called you and said that the man said he knew you and wanted to talk with you. You took a few steps in their direction before stopping, as you recognized him. - You immediately froze and felt a shiver ran through you. It was the bastard, you called your ex. - Sugishita noticing you getting anxious came in front of you hiding you from the men. - Your ex seeing that told you and the other guys that he just wanted to talk to you, and that it was something important that wouldn't take long. - Why did you agree, you're not sure. Maybe you wanted to look cool in front of the Bofurin members, or maybe you just didn't want to look pathetic. However, it was a big mistake because after following him to some back street you were greeted by other people, that you once called "friends". - At the same time Umemiya had a bad feeling and told Mitsuki to get Haruka and inform him about this.

- Someone grabbed your shirt pulling you roughly towards the group and then pushing you to the wall making your head hit the bricks. - You felt disoriented as you tried to keep standing. - "How did a trash like you think it could get away from us?" - "Do you think you're better because you have some new pitiful friends?" - The bastards from your school asked and you gritted your teeth putting on a front. - "Funny, thought you were the trash." You replied bitterly. - "Oh, right at least I don't need to exploit others to feel better, unlike you." - They certainly didn't appreciate you talking back and one of the girls took their glass bottle before throwing it at you. - At the last second you moved away looking at the broken glass and then back to them. - "You're fuckin' sick." You said and your ex gritted his teeth before coming closer to you. - He was the first one to lose patience and brought his fist back ready to punch you. - You were too startled by the previous attack to react quick enough but you didn't have. Haruka came out of nowhere and grabbed his fist before kicking him in the stomach. Still holding his hand he pulled him closer and punched him in the face. A loud crack was heard. Your brother then followed with another kick in the chest but this time he let go of his hand letting him fall back into some of your old friends. - You were startled by this but when you saw the back of your younger brother you felt like the weight was lifted off your shoulders. - Then you heard more voices from behind and when you turned you noticed other Bofurin members ready to throw hands if needed. - You felt like crying. They all came because they were worried for you and wanted to protect you. - The strange feeling of being taken care of and protected filled you and you wondered if that's what family and friends were like.

- When you were having a small emotional moment, Haruka was seething. He stood in front of the people who took his older sister away from him, people that made her life miserable. His fists tightened and he was more than ready to have a talk with them. Just like Umemiya taught him.

- After the guys left you and Bofurin members alone, scrambling and picking up your ex who was hurt the most. - You felt tears brimming in your eyes. - When you looked up from the ground and saw Haruka in the middle of his friends getting praised for fighting so well, your tears fell down. - You were so moved and so thankful for having them by you, for them letting you be part of their lives, for Haruka protecting you, for everything. - Kaji was the first one to notice you were crying, as he stood more on the sides of the group crowding around your brother. He came to you and gave you a tissue he had in his pocket. - When the rest saw he stood by you and noted you were crying they moved quickly around you asking if you were alright or if something happened. - "I just feel so happy to have you guys. You're the best." You said teary. - The guys sighed in relief and when Haruka scoffed, in relief, he stepped to you and smacked your shoulders. - "Don't worry me like that." He mumbled. - You pulled him, who was trying to run from you, closer and embraced him tightly feeling thankful for having your younger brother back in your life. - Umemiya seeing that couldn't help himself and brought the other guys closer for a group hug, smashing you all together.

Tags: @misticbullet

[cxseysims]

5k Follower Gift 🤍✨

thank you guys so so much for all your support and patience <3 i love this not-so-little community we have.

to show my thanks, i have uploaded a two-part series to my patreon. i have officially uploaded the paint & sip, called Pinot & Portraits. Along with the venue, you will find an apartment on the top floor. The owner and resident of this lovely venue, Alison Ashwood, has also been uploaded to my patreon. Links and more photos are below!

credit to all the amazing cc creators who make these uploads possible. :) much love to you all!

[qwimchii]

𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 (pt. 4) — 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

playlist pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 (10/24)

𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘤 — 12𝘬

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵!𝘢𝘶, 141𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘶, 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 (10𝘺𝘳𝘴), 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 & 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘴 & 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 😞

note: oml. i cannot thank you guys enough for your patient. this took me a lot longer than i thought it would (i've been writing the whole day LMFAO). your patience and support has been literally amazing and i love each and every one of you. thank you so much 😭💐💞 please enjoy &lt;33

you gasped, scrambling back into the bed.

the girl just stood there. stock still. like a ghost. eyes so shadowed in the darkness that they looked like two black pits staring at you.

your heart beat out of your chest, blood thickening to a slow gurgle, as you reached slowly for something solid on the nightstand. you made contact with the glass cup.

you were surprised by the amount of force in your voice. “are you here to kill me?”

she just stared, unblinking. 

a roiling turmoil of heat built right in your chest, and you snapped, “are you one of Turner’s men?”

she scoffed, and it only added to the flame of your ire, before you heard the soft click of her gun cocking.

“no,” she said, defiant, turning her chin up at you. “but you do have a nice ransom on your head.”

her head tilted, taking you in with a dark look that raked across your body. “and i recognized that man you were with. Ghost, is it?”

oh.

your eyes narrowed. “how do you know him?”

the better question was how did she recognize him?

your heart sank.

“i’ve done business with him,” she said cooly, and your heart just sank further. 

it made sense now. why she was standing at the door, her attention trained on Ghost, marching away when the other man told her to leave. she was expecting a customer.

maybe even a regular one.

then, she frowned at you. “not in ways that you are thinking.”

curling relief soared in your chest, and a weight lifted from your shoulders as you released a shaky breath.

she threw down the gun onto the floor and it skidded across the wooden floorboards, hitting the post of the bed with a thunk. mind clouded with confusion, you looked up at her with a furrowed brow.

she straightened her shoulders. “i’m here to save you.”

you blinked. save you?

“save me?” you squeaked, and her face twitched with annoyance.

“yes,” she said, striding forward to the bed, “we have to hurry. come.”

you scurried further back into the bed, yelping when you almost fell off the side.

she stopped in her tracks, watching you struggle in the sheets with flushed cheeks. quickly, you drew the yellow robe that was discarded on the floor around your body, hoping she didn’t see anything in the dark, and turned to her again, fumbling with the knot of it.

you were still holding the glass cup.

she looked down to it in your hands and then back up, mouth in twisted line.

embarrassed, you put the cup behind you on the nightstand.

“your father?” she chewed out slowly, “he has a ransom. he wants you alive.”

“what?” 

“your father. he wants you—”

a thick cloud of confusion settled in your furrowed brow, and you shot out, “i thought Turner wanted me dead.”

the girl gave you a long look, face twisted and hands clenched into the fabric of her dress. “he does. your father doesn’t.”

your mouth fell open, tongue heavy, then closed again.

“are they not working together?” there was a little flicker of hope deep within yourself.

“they are,” she said with raised brows, “they are working to come to an agreement over you.”

your stomach twisted. you felt like puking. 

you flattened yourself against the far wall of the room to stop the nauseating swirls of dizziness racking your mind, creating a marginal distance from the girl who loomed with a veil of impatience over her face, hands clenched by her sides and shoulders braced. a roil of fear boiled in you.

“you can’t take me,” you whispered, voice weak and trampled.

her frown deepened. “you want to stay with Ghost?”

“i am waiting for him,” you said carefully, and the girl scoffed, turning on her heel.

“do you think he will come back?”

your throat felt closed up. “what?”

“do you think he will come back?” she asked again, slowly, like you couldn’t understand her words. she pointed towards the low table in the room—there was a drawstring pouch you didn’t notice before.

“he left that for you at the front desk before he left. i came in to deliver it,” she explained, and you followed her line of sight to the gun at the foot of the bed.

ah. she came in to deliver them as well as threaten you. or save you, in her words. maybe both.

your eyes narrowed. “what are you saying?”

in the darkness of the room, you could see her roll her eyes.

“he left you money and that revolver.”

your head swirled, a pulsing headache building right in the base of your forehead. he left you these items—why? to protect yourself?

he said the brothel was safe. 

a sour taste filled your mouth. why would you need to protect yourself if it was safe?

unless you left the brothel.

you fought the droop of your head with a sharp twinge of your heart, deflating from the inside out.

“he wasn’t planning on coming back,” she gritted out, sounding more impatient than anything.

“you don’t know that,” you snapped, “it’s not dawn yet. he promised me he’d be back by dawn.”

she grew very still. “why do you want to stay with him? has he not been using you for…?”

her eyes roamed down the revealing nature of your robe, then flitted back up to your eyes. her face was stoney cold. serious.

you stiffened. Ghost had promised you he would never bed you again for revenge. had he been telling the truth? you didn’t know.

“i don’t know.”

she scoffed again, muttering under her breath, “she doesn’t know,” and turning away, rubbing over her face.

you swallowed down the growing swollen tightness in your throat, a familiar burn building at the waterline of your eyes. “you don’t understand. if you give me to my daddy…”

she turned back to you and your voice faltered. “i don’t want to be a mistress.”

her stoney face crumpled, eyes narrowed with unease, but you pressed on, “my daddy. he owns a saloon chain and made a business deal with Turner—investment and protection.”

your voice dimmed, quiet and low. “i was part of that deal. my daddy was going to give me to Turner as his mistress.”

the girl was silent, stark still in the darkness, mulling over something in her swirling eyes.

“alright.”

your eyes snapped to her. “alright?”

“i don’t work for Turner. i don’t work for your father. i don’t work for anybody but myself,” she said.

you nodded slowly, trying to digest that, searching her eyes for a twisted lie, but only finding a blank stoney void and truth. instead, you asked, “what about Ghost?”

she paused for a moment, looking apprehensive, before explaining, “when Ghost was younger, and when the law used to be trouble for him, he would hide here in this brothel. he paid for my services for a week but didn’t touch me once. he wanted something else.”

something else? you thought, hands growing clammy and cold.

she turned her head from you. “he wanted my secrets. powerful people tell me too much in the midst of an intimate night. now, i recognize Ghost’s gesture for what it was. he was not being kind to me like i believed him to be.”

her voice was eerily void. “he wanted to use me.”

then, she said, “i was sold by my father for fifty american dollars.”

you flinched. it made you wonder how much Turner had promised your daddy in exchange for you.

her stare was glazed over, dark and unnatural. you suppressed a shiver and listened to what she had to say, clutching at the wall tighter when she slowly stepped forward towards you.

“i know what it is like to want to be useful. i, too, once believed that it was necessary for my father to sell me to feed my brothers. i told myself that the entire way by ship from china. then, i told myself that helping Ghost would give me purpose.”

her voice was stronger, and she drew so near you could see the swirling pattern of her crimson dress. “now, i am not of use to anyone except for myself. i worked hard to get here. this is one of the kindest and most well-paying brothels in the city. most girls only last for five years after being sold into prostitution.”

her words were icy cold. “i worked hard to survive.”

“i’m…” your voice failed in your choked up throat, pangs of heaviness breaking your heart apart. you wanted to apologize but that didn’t feel like enough.

she pinned you with a hard look. “i do not want your pity.”

you slowly sunk down the wall, till your backside hit the cold, hard floor, and you wrapped your arms around your knees. all your problems felt dwarfed in front of this girl, but you still shook with fear.

“i won’t go back to my daddy,” you whispered, words trembling, but defiant nonetheless.

she got on her knees, creeping towards you till she leaned against the wall in the spot beside you. the proximity of her body felt warm in the crisp morning of the room.

she was insistent, expression fierce and strong. “i will not give you over to him for money. ”

your eyes snapped to hers, and her hand slid over the floor into the space between you.

desperate, you searched for the right words but couldn’t find them. “thank you.”

you took up her hand, and she squeezed yours with a strength that shocked you for her thin, petite frame.

“i will help you,” she insisted, and a curl of despair wrung your chest.

“you cannot help me, miss,” you said weakly, truthfully, “i need to wait for Ghost.”

she made a noise of deep frustration. “you do not.”

you closed your eyes, nose buried into your knees. “i have to.”

you felt her draw your hand into her lap, holding onto it with a powerful grasp. “he will not return. i prayed many nights for him to return too. but still, i will wait with you.”

the certainty in her tone felt soul crushing, and a truth from her own experience, but the tightness of her grip was an anchor that held you through the nauseating, racks of unease that pulled you like a tide. 

you waited for the sun to peek up through the far windows of the room, overlooking a dip in the city that revealed a stretch of chinatown twinkling in the early, blue hours with loud ruckus, shouts, and clatters.

when the first bruised pinks and purples stretched the morning sky, and beams of orange had cast over your body, your head perking up as you squinting into its glare from over your knees, Ghost had still not come.

you moved through the city like a ghost—like nothing was anchoring you down to the ground except for the girl’s iron grip on your hand. she had almost never let go of you when you roused from your light slumber, letting her drag you from the room, pocketing Ghost’s money and his revolver.

you left behind your shattered heart in that room. you felt like you died in that room.

the girl had forced you into one of her few western-style, yet airy, dresses that still felt too revealing from the wardrobe of her small room in the upper floors of the brothel. but nobody stared at you as she pulled you down another avenue through chinatown, considerably cleaner and better groomed than the ones you had been on before.

you did not know where you were going—you weren’t sure if you cared. the girl had only said with a determined ferocity, i will help you, when Ghost had not come.

Ghost had not come.

it was like a splintering realization every moment.

she hauled you into the back of a busy shop, barely squeezing through the small frame of the door, opening it to a whirlwind of more women shouting in mandarin and bent over desks strewn with cloths, silks, garments, and clunky sewing machines that packed in the room. that same sweet smoke tinged the room and you resisted pinching your nose against the searing smell.

an older woman with grayed hair and a wrinkled face like a plum stepped into the girl’s path, shouting something at her, though not unkindly, to which the girl shouted back. the old woman stepped back with a nod, and you curled closer to the girl as many of the women in the room turned from their stations to stare as you passed before busying themselves once more.

the girl took you into the front store room, marginally more quiet than in the back, and adorned with a plush red carpet and racks of colorful clothing where some wealthy women perused. 

then, she pulled you towards a raised platform in the corner of the room, where a red curtain hung by it and pushed you onto it. you stepped up, feeling uncomfortably light without her hand around yours, and she tugged the curtain around the platform without a word and a stricken face, shrouding the rest of the room from view.

you stood there for a moment, clutching against the wall and listening to the faint screeches of hangers dragging across their racks, light footsteps, and the bustle of the city from outside the store.

you jolted when she yanked open the curtain and quickly jerked it close behind her once more.

her face looked more serious than before—face screwed up in a tight expression and deep frown. you bit back a gasp when her arms flew to your shoulders and tugged her towards her, almost falling off the platform.

“listen to me,” she grit out with a clenched jaw, and you nodded quickly. “i cannot help you for long. tell me, what do you want?”

what do you want?

the question ran bated circles around your mind.

in a panic, you choked out, “i don’t know.”

she looked disappointed, but her grip on your shoulders only tightened, and you winced from the painful pulse in your injured joints. “you need to decide. now.”

she pressed something hard and cool into your hand and you looked down at the revolver in your open palm. the steel of it was engraved with trumpet vines.

you were reminded of several nights ago—when Ghost had first asked you the question.

“what do you want?” his hand moved to stroke at your cheek, your brow, your hair.

you never had the luxury of pondering the question. your path was always laid out before you by your mama and daddy. there was no choice. only lingering, bitter feelings of resentment as you fought yourself to believe that tending Daddy’s saloon and entertaining businessmen was the life you wanted.

“i dont know.”

“tell me.”

you had said you wanted him. now, you weren’t sure.

what did you want?

you looked into the dark swirl of the girl’s intense gaze, the inky hair that went down her shoulders in unfurling waves. did you want independence like her?

instead you asked, “why are you helping me?”

her face flitted with a tenseness but she held fast, unmoving and unshaken.

you pressed on, “what about the money? don’t you want the ransom?”

you felt eerily calm despite what you were alluding towards—her selling away your last flickers of freedom.

she shook her head. “i will not use you like my father used me.”

you stared at her. maybe, for the first time in your life, you’d met someone who didn’t want to use you for an advantage. maybe this girl was lying and would lead you straight into your daddy’s embrace again, and once your daddy smoothed everything out with Turner, you’d be in Turner’s bed every other night, satiating an old man with the warmth of your youthful touch.

or maybe, she was telling the truth.

“i don’t believe you,” you said, voice soft, and her grip slackened.

“you have to. tell me what you want.” she reached into the neckline of her shirt, and pulled something from her undergarments, revealing the drawstring pouch of the money Ghost left you.

she pushed it into your hand with the gun and closed your fingers around the heaviness of it, the clink of coins and rustles of paper feeling too loud in your ears, your mind swirling with effort.

you mulled over everything for the past week—only just seven days total. when you had met Ghost, one-four-one, their outlawed antics, los vaqueros. Kate’s expression when she left you at your train door, when you had challenged her about the truth of their revenge ploy, when you had escaped on horseback from the leather crafts shop. 

the fullness of her eyes. the sadness of them.

you thought of john when he had an arm circled around your waist as he galloped on that chestnut through the small town, saving your life, and the blinding rush when you turned over your shoulder and shot that man gunning for John. you saved his life in return.

you thought of Soap’s kindness in the hallway of the train, the thick swell of his accent, the delight that bloomed across his face whenever he saw you. the vicious sober look that twisted his smile when he promised to get revenge on Turner.

you thought of Gaz and his proposal, the origin of his poor childhood that he had disclosed in hushed murmurs, and the warmth of his polite touch grasping your hand and pressing it to his chest. the youthful earnest in his face.

you thought of your daddy and your mama—preparing you for a life that you had never chosen. Turner’s mistress.

you didn’t know who to hate more.

you thought of Ghost.

maybe you should hate him.

your skin prickled in remembrance of his soft, warm lips, and gentle touch, the way he held you, his even softer words, his empty promises. the perfect lies he created with a smug look and twinkle in his dark eyes, more charming than his infamous reputation led you to believe.

more charming, terrifying, mysterious, and guarded than you had ever seen in a man.

he lied to you time and time again. you closed your eyes against the weight that dragged your entire body down—so heavy it was like it never wanted you to stand properly again.

the girl’s tight grip steadied you.

“i want to be wanted,” you said weakly, eyes fluttering open again to see the grim look on her face.

her jaw was clenched tight. “i did too. but that is not an option.”

your whole heart shattered all over again.

“i want…” you mind spiraled, “i want revenge.”

the smile that twitched into her lips was malicious.

“against who?”

you felt like you were floating. “Turner.”

your voice darkened. “my daddy.”

she nodded, a pleasant look on her face now. “good. i will help you.”

before she stepped away and off the platform, you shoved the pouch of money back into her arms.

when she shook her head to refuse, you pressed, tone cutting and vicious, “take it. or take me as a ransom so help me god.”

when she realized you would refuse to let her go uncompensated, either from the harsh tone of your voice, your words, or the twisted tightness in your face, she relented, and disappeared from the changing room again.

you steadied your breath, looking into the full-length mirror hung on the wall.

you didn’t look like the girl you were a week ago.

you were different now—sinful, vengeant, a murderer.

you thought that it suited you better.

the girl came back and took you to a different area of the store: through the compact kitchen, where she fed you something greasy, savory, and foreign that you consumed in mere bites, then you swallowed down a steaming cup of tea, and she helped wash in a tub.

rubbing and lathing up soap through your hair as you scrubbed down your body. she was unashamed of your bare state, and the newfound rush that boiled in your veins left you uncaring for it.

after you dried off, she took you to the upper floors of the store to a bedroom—the old woman’s, you recognized later on, when the elder woman brought in several elaborate dresses with a wry smile on her face. the bedroom smelled herbal and picante, you noticed, as you were stripped of your clothes again and redressed in the undergarments the girl lent you.

the old woman said something to you—pleasant with a bellow of laughter—before she trudged out the room with heavy steps.

when you looked at the girl in confusion, the only thing she offered was, “she was very happy the day her husband died. she hopes you can find that same happiness.”

whether it was an ominous omen, or a cruel joke, you couldn’t shake it as she laid out a pale evening gown of silk with patterned lilac flowers up the front. your breath hitched as you smoothed a hand over it, the beads adorning its hems, and the lace gathered along its short puff sleeves.

“i think it would suit you,” the girl said, face lax and fond as she picked it up from the bed and pressed it into your hands.

“how could i accept this?” you asked weakly, and she held up the drawstring pouch, jingling its contents lightly in your face, though not unkindly.

“i know my worth,” the girl said with a deadpanned simplicity that made you smile at the sheer absurdity of it all. 

she helped you slide on the dress, over your corset and drawers, and sat you down at the chipped vanity by the windows where the natural light of mid-day came streaming through that aided you as she drew up your hair into a loose updo. 

you used the powder, eyeshadow, and rogue on the vanity and painted your lips with a careful hand. the girl’s hand came to rest on your exposed nape, and you shivered, not used to the exposed air along your bare arms, neck, and chest due to the low bust of the dress.

the girl placed the revolver on the vanity beside you and you pocketed it through the slit-opening between the layer of your petticoat and dress.

you looked into the mirror of the vanity and the girl’s reflection stared back, expression placid and cool, easing your own nerves.

she said with confidence, “you look lovely.”

you winced at the word, grateful that it went unnoticed to her.

she continued, “tonight, when you reach Turner’s party, there will be violence and bloodshed.”

she slid a box of matches onto the vanity. “wreak havoc. he has run these streets for far too long.”

you pocketed the box with a nod, the box knocking against your revolver, watching her head tilt in the mirror.

“maybe one-four-one will run these streets in time.” a smile flashed across her face before it was gone. “i think things would become better.”

you reached back to grasp at her hand on your neck. “i will make sure you are better compensated when it happens.”

she blinked, eyes flickering with a curiosity. “you will work with one-four-one even after all they have done to you?”

with a sigh, you nodded. “they are all i know. i care too much for them.”

“and Ghost?”

you released her hand, looked away from the mirror, and trained your eyes on the bustling street through the window. “him included.”

you heard her shift behind you. “i cared for him once too. i hope it ends happier for you than it did for me. maybe in marriage.”

you grimaced. “you think i should marry him?”

she was silent for so long that you looked back at her from over your shoulder. she sat with an impeccable posture and a sad tightness in her expression.

“he has used you. he has hurt you. maybe he did not come this dawn to protect you. from Turner and from himself. although he has failed time and time again, maybe his intentions are with a good heart.”

good heart. you didn’t know if you could use those words to describe him.

“albeit, he did not know i would betray him like this. i stole his lover away,” she said with a mischievous look and an air of accomplishment that made you smile.

“are you not worried that one-four-one will punish you for it?”

she only shrugged. “what will they do to me? with this money—” she held up the drawstring, “—i will run away and buy property to live off myself. or i will marry a rich, powerful old man and wait until he dies like the old woman did.”

you laughed at that, remembering the pleasant look on the old woman’s face as she left the bedroom, full of delight and fondness at the memory of her own husband’s death. maybe, you could imagine yourself running a successful clothing boutique like this.

the image soured. you realized you could much better imagine the girl maintaining her own business rather than you.

you could better imagine yourself married with children—their blonde heads bobbing and dark brown eyes twinkling with delight. your chest deflated with a heavy weight.

she pulled you from your thoughts, a new stoicism to her face. “whatever you do with Simon, make sure you use him twice as much as he used you.”

you flinched at the proposition, but her resolve was like steel. you knew she meant it from the way she pinned up the last of your hair with steadied hands and a wall of iron over her elegant features.

for the rest of the afternoon, you stayed up in that bedroom, exchanging stories of your girlhoods. how you grew up in a small town embedded in the dusty, desert west, manning saloon bars and entertaining your daddy’s business partners. the girl told you about her childhood in china, the impoverished peoples in her town, and the ships that came to the nearby big city port that offered families sell off their young girls for services in america.

you had never been impoverished and you had never gone hungry. you listened with horror to the way she described the malnutrition in her town—the way her ribs hung over her sunken stomach, and the cavernous hunger that felt like shooting pains all over her body.

you were surprised when she was so stricken by the way you described the neglectful nature of your daddy and mama that you used to see as a different avenue of affection unique to your own family. she described her tight-knit relationship to her mother, how there was no veil of secrecy between them, only a flow of transparency unlike her and her father.

then, she described her first years in america. how she was starving more than ever with almost no pay, manipulating the managers of each brothel to transfer her, running from establishment to establishment until she found the wealthy brothel chain associated with one-four-one where she met Ghost.

she described him when he was younger—“bearing a quiet, devouring hunger for power,” she had said with such simplicity it almost made you grimace. he was brash and rash fighting the law until he bribed them out of it, she explained, growing his influence through the west through bigger investments and bigger bribes.

she admitted that in her naivety, she had seen his indifference to her as a kindness, and fell in love. she waited earnestly for months until his next return when he would give her a large sum and she would spill all her secrets of illegal business syndicates reinforced by politics within the largest western hub for organized crime—san francisco.

they would mule over long nights together, piecing together motives, crimes, big players, moving pieces, in a never-ending chess game of control over the western frontier between gangs. he had trusted her all with it.

“and i never betrayed him till now,” she reminded you with a wink. “i wonder what he would do if he knew i was leading his little lamb right into the lion’s den…”

you didn’t want to know the dark thoughts that churned in her head as you watched her ponder in silence, a hand to her chin.

soon, she was drawing a shawl over your shoulders and leading you down the steps of the shop, passing through that crowded room where the seamstresses worked, shouted, and trained their attention to you with a curiosity for mere moments before they looked down at the fabrics between their hands again.

you only saw a flash of the old woman’s dark smile, an impish look in her eyes, before she was turning away and disappearing into the fray.

the girl led you out of the shop and into the street where a horse and buggy waited with a coachman at its head. it was the manager of the brothel. he grinned at you, sinister and eerie, gold tooth flashing.

when you faltered, she explained easily, “i organized it for your arrival at the party. it needs to look convincing.”

she helped you up into the carriage and you slid into it, smoothing over your dress and tugging at the shawl to keep any of your exposed skin from showing in the light of the early evening. she handed you a pair of white gloves that you slipped on and then a pearl white mask with light purple feathers.

“you have done too much for me,” you said, feeling guilty as you peered down into her face, but she shook her head.

“i told you i would help you. i have. now, you owe a debt to me,” she said, voice low and laced with threat. you suppressed a shiver but nodded eagerly nonetheless.

“i thought i was saving you from one-four-one. then, i thought i was saving you from your father. mostly, i’m saving you from yourself,” she mused, and you felt stumped as you pat your knee with a softness.

“what do you mean?” you asked with a furrowed brow, jolting when she closed the door of the carriage in your face.

you heard the coachman hitch the horses with a shout, and the carriage began meandering slowly up the road. 

you hung out the window with a panicked alarm, but she only grinned at you.

“we are the same in many ways, sister!” she shouted over the clop of hooves and the wheels churning over stone as the carriage pulled away.

sister. you had never had one of those.

“what is your name?” you called, and she shouted back, “Yue-Yi!”

the big grin on your face made your cheeks ache as Yue-Yi waved, wishing you could say so much more as she grew smaller and smaller in the distance, a shorter figure joining her by the sidewalk to wave goodbye. when you squinted your eyes, you could make out the frizzy grayed hair of the old woman.

turning back into your seat in the carriage, you tied the mask onto your face and steeled your nerves, grasping the revolver and matches through the layers of your gown with a eerie calm that settled over you like a thick veil.

as you neared Turner’s estate, more carriages coalesced into a line, queuing up to its large, sprawling and trim lawn, adorned with hedges and fountains that twinkled in the low light of the evening.

you craned your neck out the carriage window to get a glimpse of the sheer architecture of the residency—massive and victorian, with pointed roofs and limestone carvings. you had always thought your home was impressive in your small town but this mansion dwarfed it.

the carriage lurched to a stop, horses whinnying with a stomp. you waited with bated breath in front of the great, arched entrance of the place, listening to the coachman walk over to the door of the carriage and open it, offering a polite hand.

you took it, ignoring his gold-toothed smile and tossed your shawl back into the carriage quite rudely. with the new exposure of your skin, and the growth of his grin, you jerked your hand back from his and gave him a rushed thanks.

but before you made your way up the steps to the elegant entrance, lined with guardsmen in black three-piece suits and fashionable bowler hats, where more guests lingered for admission in fancy attire, you turned back to the manager of the brothel, puffing up your chest with a new confidence.

“you,” you snapped. his brows rose in reply, sly smirk only growing more, much to your discontent.

“yes?” he said, stepping forward. you stepped back.

“Yue-Yi is one of your best workers, no?”

his mouth open and closed before nodding, that greasy smile never leaving his lips.

“you should increase her pay,” you said, impressed by the cool indifference of your own manner.

turning on your heel, you spoke over your shoulder, “or else she might find better avenues of self-employment.”

he paled slightly at that, smirk dropping from his face, and you smiled sweetly, making your way up the steps before remembering yourself. you turned back to him and his pale, stiff disposition before curtsying with the most properness your mother had ever taught you, then continued your ascent to the doors.

you didn’t look back to see if he still lingered with that dumb, pale look on his face. the very thought made you grin bigger.

the line slowly trickled through the entrance as the guardsmen checked names off a list. a new nervous fervor built in you. looking around the lines, and at women and men who lingered together in their own parties, you sidled closer to a loud, unsuspecting woman and her two other female friends, all donned in light yellows and dark magentas and fanning themselves.

when you were just steps from the entrance, the women gave the guards their names, and you craned your neck to see the interior of the residency. lavish, loud, overly decorated in golds and marbles. nothing you would expect less from the old, obnoxious Turner.

“good evening, miss,” one guardsman said, and you jolted from your thoughts, eyes snapping to his. he tilted his head. “your name?”

“i…” you felt stupid, mouth opening and closing, not sure of what to do when—

you crept closer to him, hoping it went unnoticed to the distracted parties around you, and his brows rose slightly, a strange look crossing his face.

you snuck a gloved hand onto his arm, his gaze lingered at your touch, to the exposed skin of your low-cut dress, neck, then your eyes. you cocked your head, sliding your hand up his arm.

“mary smith,” you lied with an ease, and he nodded dumbly, looking through the list. you knew that he wouldn’t find that name and he knew it too.

he cleared his throat, shifting under your touch. “no chaperone, miss?”

you wanted to curse yourself. you had become so accustomed to running off through the west without a chaperone that you had completely forgotten an unmarried, young lady needed one at all.

“maybe you could suffice, sir,” you whispered with a light giggle, and watched with amazement as a slow pink flush crept up into his ears and cheeks.

he cleared his throat again, gesturing to the entrance and avoiding your eyes, “i’m sure our boss wouldn’t mind one extra, lovely young lady.”

you smiled at that, sliding your hand very lightly across his chest as you glided past him, biting back a snort at the way he stiffened under your touch.

crossing the threshold, you stepped into the grand entrance hallway filled with people and you almost melted with relief. making an effort to get lost in the crowd, you snaked in between bodies and conversing groups, their faces adorned with feathered masks and glasses of wine between their gloved fingers.

gliding through the rooms of the residency, you wondered how you would ever find your daddy or Turner in this mess. you stiffened at the thought of crossing paths with one-four-one by mistake.

wringing your hands nervously as your head whipped around between the loud, noisy surroundings, you realized for the first time how utterly alone you were in this mansion.

hundreds of people may have been stuffed into the place, but you were the sole person on this mission, and whether one-four-one had shown up to this party or not, you were the sole person who knew your own plans to kill the party host and turn tail.

with his death, hopefully, you could carve a good chunk of your daddy’s money out of his business. you quieted any alarming thoughts about your mama.

a large drone of partygoers began moving slowly towards the opposite side of the room, and you followed the crowd into the main family room that dwarfed the houses of your small town. looking up into the curve of the ceiling adorned with paintings, a large chandelier hung down into the cavernous room littered with tables of food and colorful banisters. 

at the head of the room, near a fireplace, a man stood in a crisp black suit and bow-tie with a curling black mustache and greased black hair flecked with grays on a platform. Turner.

you hadn’t seen his beady, blue eyes and grim, twisted face since dinner with him, your daddy, and mama since months ago along with that haughty wife of his, who stood proud and arrogant by his shoulder.

your mouth soured at the sight of them and you felt around the skirt of your dress, feeling the handle of your gun through the layers.

if you shot him now, could you run away in time? and if they caught you, what would happen?

Turner took a glass cup and clinked a spoon against it, grabbing the room’s attention as it diminished into a silence.

you grasped the gun tighter between your hands.

“thank you for coming,” he said, low, rumbly voice ringing out over the crowd. “we are here today—” he reached back and you watched with amazement as a little girl stepped up onto the platform, grasping onto his hand with a shy, meek look, “—to celebrate my daughter’s birthday.”

your stomach curled at his words, grip going slack against your dress.

if you had shot him right there and then, in the midst of this swarming crowd, maybe you could’ve slipped away easily in the scrambling panic of the crowd. but he would’ve dropped dead, blood oozing from his in a dark puddle, right in front of his own daughter.

the thought made you feel nauseous.

the tall, broad frame that creeped up beside you startled you with a jolt, and you looked up to find an incredibly tall and massive body of a ginger man with a black mask tied around his face. he had his hands behind his back, looking lax with an arrogant smirk on his face. he peered down at you from his shoulder.

“hello there,” he said quietly, under the words that Turner continued to bellow to the crowd. his accent was foreign. maybe german.

“this is an interesting party, no? with masks and such,” he gestured to the crowd, and you struggled to find words. 

“i guess,” you croaked, voice scratchy and thick. his smirk only widened.

“what are you doing in this big crowd without a chaperone, little lady?”

you wanted to shrink away from him at that moment, feeling awkward and exposed under the burn of his gaze.

“i have business to conduct.”

he laughed loud and throaty, earning a few hostile glances from the people around you, and you winced, trying to step away and disappear into the crowd but his big hand came to rest on your shoulder and you went impossibly stiff. 

“i do, too, little lady.” 

he bent down closer to your ear and you shivered. “how do you know, Turner?”

your mouth opened and closed.

“family connections.”

his eyes widened beneath the mask—the color an exotic pale green that you had never seen before.

“really?” he shifted closer to you and you tugged at his grip on your shoulder, trying to move away but the strength of his massive body easily overpowered your own.

“can i tell you a secret, little lady?”

you shook your head with a strong, “no,” but he continued you anyways.

“i know you have a gun in that pocket.”

you went impossibly rigid, breath catching in your throat and he chuckled lowly in your ear.

“i don’t know who’s paying you, but they’re incredibly clever, hiring an innocent-looking little lady like you. you almost fooled me.”

you grit out through a clenched jaw, “and just who are you, sir?”

he released you with an, “ah, my apologies, i need to remember my manners.”

you turned to him, craning your head up to look up into his face, shoulders set with frustration at the prospect of somehow being… caught.

he sighed out, sounding disappointed. “you should know me if you’re in this sort of line of work, but i guess i’ll tell you my name.”

then, he gave you a lop-sided smile. “i’m Konig.”

you blinked at him. “okay.”

the smile slid off his lips. “okay? haven’t you heard of me?”

there was a bitter taste in your mouth as you shook your head slowly, and his face crunched into deeper disappointment. you almost regretted giving him the reply that you did, and you would have, if he didn’t start going on a tangent about himself.

“you should know me,” he insisted, putting a hand to his chest, “i’m Konig. i’m very famous in this line of work. i work under kortac.”

your brows pinched together, neck beginning to ache just from looking up at him.

he only sighed again. “i guess americans don’t know kortac. no matter. i’ll just have to kill you before eliminating Turner.”

at that, you jolted, beginning to scramble backwards as he reached out to you once more.

“wait—!” you shrieked, crashing into a trio of ladies that shrieked on impact, flailing as you turned to flee from the large man, but a loud, splintering shatter echoed through the entire room and the lights flickered overhead.

everything stilled and you stopped in your tracks. you looked up into the ceiling, at the chandelier overhead, stomach dropping when you saw the thing sway, then with more ear-rupturing splinters, in almost a slow-motion, began to crash down to the floor where you stood.

the entire room flooded with screams and shouts as the crowd scrambled out of the room. bodies pushed against yours and you almost fell to your knees, screeching when a hand hoisted you up and pushed you forward toward a narrow hallway stemming from the room.

a harsh german accent was in your ear, “fick mich—move, move, american!”

you did, as fast as you could, through the snaking crowd, and you clutched at your ears with a scream when gunshots rang through the room.

and when you turned to look over your shoulder, you saw a familiar broad body, clad in all black with a black mask, a tussle of dirty blonde hair shaved down on the sides of his head and pieces that hung down his forehead, and a silver scar on his upper lip with a revolver raised and aimed at Turner.

you couldn’t turn and go back with Konig’s massive body blocking your path and urging you forward. picking up the hem of your dress, you pushed through the squirming crowd and into the narrow hallway.

a resounding crash shook the entire mansion, and you almost fell to the ground again from the vibrations of it, but Konig picked you back up and pushed you behind a curtained area in the nook of the hallway.

when you were obscured from the rest of partygoers rushing through the mansion, Konig turned to you and put a hand around your throat, squeezing tight, and the other hand shoving a revolver right beneath your chin.

you clawed at his grip on your throat, glaring into the emptiness of his green eyes. with the last of your strength, you spit on his face, and he drew back his hand around your throat to wipe it away with a look of disgust. you scrambled away from him, gulping in breaths of air, but he only reached out and pulled you back with a tight grip around your arm.

you whipped your head back at him, trying to kick at him, but he pressed you to the wall with ease and a curiously amused look.

“you are not very good at this, little lady,” he admitted, and that only pissed you off.

with all your strength, you stomped as hard as you could on his foot, and he hissed out, reeling back but not easing his grip on you at all.

“i don’t even know what you’re talking about!” you shrieked, wriggling, and his brow furrowed.

“no? were you not hired to kill Turner?”

“no!” you almost screamed between desperation and frustration, and he released you. with a gasp you crashed to the floor.

“really?” he asked, helping you up with a tight grip that sent another flurrying panic through you, and you squirmed out of his touch. this time, he let you.

“yes,” you said, exasperated, fixing the dishevelment of your dress, and Konig stared at you, revolver laying limp by his side.

“oh,” he said, quietly, and you just glared at him, sending him a strange look when he began to fumble with his hands. now, he wouldn’t look at you, strangely awkward and apprehensive.

“sorry,” he mumbled, and you huffed, taking the moment to pull out your own revolver and dig it into his stomach.

he barely responded—just giving you that same distant, awkward look.

“you’re right,” you hissed, cocking the gun, and his brows only raised slightly as you continued, “i wasn’t hired to kill Turner. i’m doing this on my own accord.”

that seemed to pique his interest because he tilted his head, shoving his revolver into the breast pocket of his coat. “oh? pray tell, american?”

you rolled your eyes. “it’s none of your business, sir.”

you drew back the curtain and stomped into the hallway, looking around and unsettled by the eerie quietness of the place. most of the partygoers had emptied the mansion already, only distant gunshots and shouts and crashes of noise vibration through the place.

when you saw Turner’s men barrel past a couple corridors away, you rushed backwards with a squeak and almost screamed when you crashed into Konig’s big chest.

he looked down at you with a blank look and a steadying hand on your hip that you immediately swatted away. instead, you hurried down a corridor in the opposite direction of where Turner’s men had been headed, and felt an increasing annoyance when Konig started following you.

you turned to snap over your shoulder, “go away.”

the quiet thuds of his footsteps faltered and then picked up again and you huffed with annoyance.

turning fully to him with crossed arms and your revolver still in hand, he stopped a marginal distance from you with a hurt look on his face.

“what?” you asked, and his frown only deepened.

“let’s make an agreement, little lady.”

“why should i do that?” you asked honestly. “you’re a criminal and an assassin.”

the blank look he gave you only pulled you into self-reflection. technically, you were also a criminal, and mere steps away from a self-employed assassin.

“you want to kill Turner,” he said, and you jolted when more gunshots only got louder, maybe mere hallways away, but he continued without so much as a blink, “and i want to kill Turner for money. let’s make an agreement—i will let you kill him if you let me lie to my superiors and say that it was in fact i who killed him. otherwise, i will have to kill you for getting in my way.”

your stomach curdled at the easy way he said it.

when a smug smirk twisted his face, you winced at the sinister nature of it. “besides, you need me. i am very good at my job, no? my name is Konig for a reason.”

you mulled over his offer. what he proposed was reasonable and made perfect sense. although you didn’t know what Konig meant, you assumed he earned the name for a respectable talent in his profession. killing people.

but could you trust him?

you looked over the relaxed nature of his body, smug and arrogant and cocksure you would take up his agreement. you could trust him just as much as the devilish outlaw who earned his name for murdering without a trace—Ghost.

“alright, Konig,” you said bitterly, “let’s see how much you can offer me.”

his smirk only grew. “i can offer you a lot of things, little lady,” he sang, that arrogant look on his face only inflating as he turned on his heel and headed directly towards the gunshots.

faltering, you fell close in step behind his massive body and felt a panic when the gunshots and shouts sounded closer. he sent you a smug look and turned sharply into a different hallway, your head on a swivel for stray people as he led you into an immense library.

“why are we here?” you asked, turning in a circle to take in the multiple levels of the place. 

he didn’t answer you, only walking up to a case of books on the far edge of a book-filled wall, and reached far back into its shelves where he searched around for something with a face of concentration. you watched with unease, looking over so often at the entrance of the library with your revolver in hand.

something clicked in the wall. your eyes widened in amazement as Konig stepped back and the bookcase shifted with a squeaking grown, slowly pulling pack and screeching to the side. behind it was a narrow, dim stone corridor lit with electric bulbs.

“see?” Konig offered, hand reaching out to you, “i can offer you much more than murder, little lady.”

rolling your eyes, you took his hand and scurried down the corridor quickly for fear of the vulnerable exposure in the immense library. Konig led you down the path blanketed with a thin layer of water, the corridor dripping water overhead, and a musk, dank smell in the air. his big back was the only thing you could see in the dim lighting of the narrow hallway.

you tried to quell any lingering thoughts of anxiety coursing through you—what if Konig had taken you down here to kill you?

what if he was actually one of Turner’s men posing as a hired assassin?

that almost stopped you in your tracks, and when he sent you a confused look from over your shoulder, filled with nothing but focus on the task ahead, you scurried forward again, closer to him than you had been before.

through the never-ending winding corridors, Konig seemed to maneuver them with an eerie precision and ease, sometimes stopping to observe the halls with a sweeping glance, and then continuing ahead without so much as a word.

soon, the winding path tracked into a sharp incline until you reached a dead-end. Konig searched over the surface of the stone wall with his gloved hands and pressed around till there was a soft click and the thing stuttered open with a groan.

he gave you another victorious smirk and helped you through the entrance with a polite hand that you took begrudgingly. you entered into a bedroom this time—one that looked untouched and picked clean.

probably a guest bedroom, you realized, then jumped forward with a start when the entrance of the corroder began sliding shut behind you. it was a bookcase like before, and you watched in awe as it dragged shut backwards into its nook, settling with a cloud of dust.

Konig waved at it with a cough and strode forward to open the bedroom door and into the hallway. you followed him quickly.

peering down the empty and deadly silent hallway, you spotted a carved wood banister of a staircase at the end of it and realized that you must’ve been on an upper floor now.

“we are near Turner’s bedroom now,” Konig said, and you cocked a brow at him.

“how do you know all of this?” you pressed, and he shrugged.

“i memorized the blueprint.”

you resisted rolling your eyes, and instead with a tinge of sarcasm said, “impressive.”

he puffed up with pride and a strong nod. “i know.”

you allowed yourself to roll your eyes.

creeping along the hallway, Konig neared a grand set of carved double doors and gold handles that no doubt looked to be the primary bedroom.

“how do you know Turner will be here?” you whispered, a sudden creeping apprehension coming over you. your hands twisted around the gun to ease a heavy feeling in your chest.

this felt rushed and not right at all.

you hadn’t even prepared yourself.

you swallowed hard. how were you going to kill this man when you knew him better than the others you had killed? more than Charles and his associate and Turner’s lackey who had chased you and John down on horseback? 

“i don’t,” Konig said, placing a gloved hand on the handle, sending you a smirk, “just a good guess.”

he began to turn the gilded handle of the door when a loud gunshot ricocheted through the hallway, shattering a vase by your side as a bullet whizzed past your shoulder.

with a shriek, you scrambled back against the wall, seeing a dozen of Turner’s men rushing down the long, long corridor of the hallway, and suddenly the bedroom doors were kicked open, three guardsmen bursting through.

Konig was quick to move, shooting one in the face and the other in his leg, taking the third beneath his arm and crushing his neck in a quick jerk that had him falling limp to the carpet.

the man with the shot leg screamed in pain, clutching at his own leg and hobbling near you with a scrunched expression. you bit back any feeling of sympathy and wound up your good arm, punching him straight in the face.

he fell to the ground with a thud and Konig gave you an approving, crazy laugh, reloading his revolver and shot down the hall—two men fell in his wake.

“go,” he urged, jerking his head in the direction of Turner’s room, and its doors that were swung wide open, “i will take care of these men, little lady, you just remember our agreement!”

“wait—” you called with an outstretched arm, a gripping uncertainty wracking you, but Konig was already gone.

at the conjoinment of another hallway, more of Turner’s men poured into the vicinity, and you heard Konig curse loudly as he rushed forward, before a new slew of people flooded into the opposite side of the hallway.

you recognized a broad, blonde male as Ghost and another smaller blonde form as Kate, Soap, John, and Gaz somewhere in the fray, and with Alejandro and Rudolfo and los vaqueros added to it, it looked like the real war Ghost had promised you days ago.

is this why he had left you at that brothel this morning? because a full-drawn out war would happen right here in Turner’s mansion? knowing you would refuse to stay away from the bloodshed if he hadn’t lied to you last night?

even now, with all his lies, you had refused to stay away anyways.

you clutched at your own chest, trying not to sink down into the floor and stay there forever, and pushed yourself from the carpet, heaving yourself up onto the handle of the doors and slamming both shut behind you quickly.

with heavy, panicked breaths that forced through your choked up throat, you fought back any tears that brimmed in your eyes as you pressed your forehead to the cool surface. you felt lightheaded and eerily light. you wanted Yue-Yi’s tight grip on you to ground you again. or Ghost’s arms to wind around you. or even the mean pinch of your mama’s fingers on your skin.

tears fell down your cheeks.

Ghost—would he be okay? alive? 

even Konig, who you had just met, who had been so willing to help you, for no good reason, mirroring the way he seemed to work without much reasoning at all, had you doubled over with nauseating worry.

the soft click of a gun behind you had you stiffening.

slowly, you turned from the door, grip tight on your own revolver that you hid from sight behind the wide berth of the skirt of your evening gown.

you were met with the sight of Turner, standing poised and indigent, revolver trained on you. you didn’t miss the shake in his hands.

he looked so much less pronounced in person. graying and old and aging and just as wrinkly as you remembered him to be, but less sinister than your mind painted him. average and normal and face stricken with the same sort of roiling panic you were feeling in the moment. you took him in with a new ease.

despite being the west’s biggest gang leader, he seemed diminished in such a close proximity.

“you,” he hissed, lip curled with disgust, “i thought you were dead.”

you swallowed hard, tight throat and unable to produce a single sound.

behind him, you saw his wife cowering in the corner with his small daughter trembling in her embrace.

you narrowed your eyes at them and Turner stepped forward sharply in threat.

you found your voice, steady and strong, “where are my daddy and mama?”

he scoffed, looking away from you briefly before brandishing the revolver around at you. it only reminded yourself of when you had been scared and inexperienced with a weapon.

“afraid i killed them?” he asked with a sinister smile, and a roil of annoyance wrung through you.

you trained your gun on his wife and daughter who shrieked, the little girl shaking with sniveling cries. Turner stiffened.

“you wouldn’t,” he said, voice low and rumbling with a ferocity, and you just nodded.

“i wouldn’t, so i’ll let them leave before i kill you.”

his eyes flashed, lips twisted into a menacing scowl.

“fine.”

his wife and daughter skirted out the room, crumpled down and low to the floor as they scurried past you out the double doors of the room. as soon as you shut the entrance behind them with a shaky exhale, tuning back to Turner, he lurched towards you with a strangled shout.

you reeled back, back slamming against the doors as he swung for you, and you ducked, scrambling over the floor with a shriek. he grabbed a fistful of your dress and pulled you back towards him across the carpet, wrestling you down to the ground, and you punched and shoved at his face, rolling across the carpet and trying to squirm out of his tight grip. his hands found your neck and crushed down on your throat with a strength that pushed all the air from your lungs.

you jerked up your knee, hitting him straight in a sore spot that had him hissing and grip going slack, just enough to shove him off you with as much strength as you could muster, and he skidded away, landing against the floor with a thud.

you gasped for breath, light-headed but vision sharper than ever as you raised the revolver, just before Turner was reaching for something across the carpet—a small white box.

your eyes widened. you recognized it as the one Yue-Yi had gifted you—wreak havoc, she had said, and you watched with a curl of panic as he struck a match and threw it to the edge of the room, a blooming fire bursting forth with a rush of shocking heat that had you crossing your arms over your face with a scream.

you scrambled back from the fire that consumed the room with a terrifying speed, revolver trained on Turner’s crumpled figure sprawled over the floor a marginal distance away.

he picked up his head and gave you a sinister look.

“your daddy and mama are dead.”

a strangled, animalistic sound clawed through your throat, and you screamed as a sob wracked you, aiming your revolver and shooting him right in the knee.

he screamed, shifting away from you, the pristine white carpet pooling with a new crimson puddle and singing at the edges with an ominous black.

you struggled to breath in the room, the air tinged with a thick smog and flickers of strewn ash that felt hot when they landed on your skin.

“i doused this entire mansion with gas,” he rasped, coughing through the smoke, “if you try to kill me, you’ll burn with me.”

he laughed, body shaking violently when more coughs wracked through him, blood splattering across the carpet and painting his lips with an unnatural red.

slowly, you made your way towards your knees with a great effort, your exposed skin flushed painfully from the heat of the surrounding fire, a portion of the canopy bed behind him crumbling, fire spreading across the carpet with hot, swelling licks.

you tried to scream but couldn’t through the tight swollen soreness of your throat, edging from its path as it skirted around you.

you forced words out, a searing raw pain in your throat, “why would you do this?”

all of it? you wanted to scream, why would he try to kill you? your daddy? your mama?

then, you coughed, hand pressed to your mouth as the motion shook you to your core, tears spilling down your cheeks to dispel the smoke, and his smile only grew. 

“i own you,” he whispered, barely audible over the loud crackle of the fire, curtains melting away from the windows as the carpet peeled up from the floorboards.

“i won’t let that bastard Simon Riley take you from me.”

you almost snarled at him, tempted to aim your revolver at his head and just put a whole round into his brain. but that felt rushed and not right at all.

you wanted him to suffer. painful and slow. the thought gave you a sliver of sanity.

you hissed out, “i won’t kill you.”

his eyes flashed, twitching against the carpet like he was going to tackle you again, but the stiffness in his bloody, soaked pant leg prevented him from moving.

you smiled—so wide that it cracked your dry lips.

“i’ll leave you to burn in hell,” you said, clambering to your feet, swaying in the open air, dizzy and nausea wringing through your head, because you just couldn’t really breathe, and Turner let out a strangled cry.

“you can’t leave!” he said, voice tinged with a ferocious desperation as he clawed forward suddenly, and the quick motion had you reeling backwards and tipping back to the world swung in front of your eyes.

you fell back down against the carpet, face narrowly missing a ring of fire, more furniture crumpled chunks of ash and blackened wood just beyond it.

“i own you,” he snarled, voice a throaty sinister rasp. his hand closed around your ankle and a new curling disgust bloomed from deep within your gut.

you looked down at him and thrust the tip of your revolver against his sweaty, red forehead. his eyes blew wide, bloody lips parting with a new fearful sort of shock that twisted your stomach in the most pleasant ways you didn’t know that you could feel.

“i choose who owns me,” you whispered, and you knew he heard you from the way his eyes just stretched further, and you blew straight clean through his forehead.

he fell completely limp against the carpet, lifeless and void of the crawling desperation you had just seen mere moments before.

more tears came pouring down your cheeks and you shoved your knee into the side of his face, biting back a scream when you saw the gaping, bloody gouge of flesh in his forehead and the cool, empty placidness of his blue eyes.

you killed him. his warm grip was still around your ankle.

scrambling back away from the dead body, you gasped when the exposed skin of your arm was enveloped with something unbearably hot, wet, and rippling in undulations.

pulling your arm away from the fire, you stared in horror at the new char of your skin and the way your silk gloves had half-melted into your arm with a goopy liquidity.

the scalding pain sharpened your senses, and you hauled yourself towards the double doors, raw skin flush to the carpet, and you strained up to the handles of the doors, fingers just wrapping around it when the door opened from beneath you.

you fell forward with your eyes screwed shut, trying to push yourself off the ground, and gentle hands hoisted you towards a broad, strong body low to the ground.

“princess, princess, princess—”

lips were against your ear and you immediately curled into his touch, eyes fluttering open to see his warmth and inviting just mere inches from your own.

face maskless and bare.

you had never felt so much relief.

“Simon?” you squeaked, voice meek and quiet and half as strong as you had forced it to be the whole day. you melted into him, muscles going lax with weakness.

he hissed when you leaned against him, and you pulled back slightly to take in the charred material of his suit stuck to an oozing wetness beneath it—sopping red with blood.

you choked on more sobs but he just shushed you, stroking a hand through your hair before pressing his face to your neck, then your hair.

“it’ll be alright, princess.”

you had never heard his voice so weak before. he leaned back against the ground, the walls still up in flames around him, and you watched his body fight to stay up before sliding slowly to the ground.

you pulled yourself forward, fighting back coughs as you laid next to him.

“you need to get up,” he rasped, pushing you away with a hand. the movement just made you hiss in desperate frustration.

“no. m’staying right here,” you said, curling closer to him, and he let you, face soft and relaxed as the entrance to Turner’s bedroom crumbled just beyond your feet.

you took in the curves of his bare face—the age and lines and scars that reflected only a shimmering honesty in the fragile moment.

with great effort you craned over him to kiss that silvery scar on his upper lip, and when you pulled back he only gave you a weak smile.

“you never listen to me,” he whispered, voice throaty and wrung through, and you could only smile back.

“never,” you agreed, intertwining your fingers with his.

“i was late this morning,” he rasped, nosing through your hair, “and when i arrived you were gone.

“i thought you finally came to your bloody senses and ran away—” he was cut off by a series of wracking coughs, and you pressed your forehead to your intertwined hands, shaking with sniveling tears.

“i thought you had abandoned me,” you whispered.

he kissed the crown of your head. “never.”

you melted into him.

he sounded stricken with anger. “i’ve lied to you.”

“i know,” you said, brushing a finger over the lightness of his lashes.

“you were supposed to run away,” he said weakly, “you were never supposed to stay. since the beginning, you were supposed to run away.”

“is that why you were late this morning?” you croaked, and he nodded against your hair.

“i was relieved when you were gone,” he said, “but i think it killed me.”

with drooping eyelids and a swirling smog clouding your senses, you distantly remembered how you felt that morning. like you had left behind your shattered heart in that brothel. like you had died in that room and you left behind your body and you were floating as a ghost through the san francisco streets. 

“leaving killed me,” you said softly, through rough coughs, and he only pulled you closer. 

“you weren’t supposed to be here, either,” he muttered, breaths shallow and weak in your ear.

you craned your neck to look up at him, taking in his face fully, and the droop of his tired eyes, before thumbing over the scars along his jaw.

“anything else to confess to me?” you asked, soft and he nodded.

“i lied to you.”

your brow pinched, another cough rippling from your throat. “i know that.”

he shook his head with a weakness that had your heart crumbling. “long time ago. that night on the train.”

the breath died in your throat and he pressed his forehead against yours, warm and solid.

“i said i bedded you for revenge. i lied.”

the floor fell away from beneath you and you felt like you were floating.

“why?” you croaked, and his smile was wistful.

“so full of questions.”

“always,” you said, pressing him further, but his eyes closed, breaths growing with a louder rasp now. a violent panic crawled up your chest and you nudged him, relieved when his eyes cracked open again.

“in time,” he whispered, and the strangled, frustrated sound that left your throat that only made his smile grow.

“i’m sorry i didn’t take you on that date,” he said, and you shook your head, the tip of your nose against his.

“i know why you didn’t,” you insisted, and he frowned.

“you’re supposed to be mad at me.”

you frowned back. “stop telling me what i’m supposed to be.”

at that, he only smirked, looking strangely satisfied as he stroked a thumb over the exposed, hot, raw skin of your neck.

you took a shaky deep breath, only swallowing down more smoke that had you coughing with a grimace. “just…”

his dark, swirling eyes that were so familiar now were dimmed but just as warm. you took your charred hand, ignoring the searing pain of it, and brushed it over his blonde hair. he closed his eyes at your gentle touch.

“please kiss me,” you whispered, and his eyes fluttered open, lurching forward with a stiff clumsiness at the awkward position, and suddenly his warm lips were pressed to your own.

you didn’t know what you were doing—just that the rhythmic movement of his soft flesh molding against yours had a honey warmth dripping through your chest and fluttering down your spine.

you tried to match him, flushing at the feeling of his every breath melding into your every exhale in a never-ending steady pulse. your hands snaked into his hair and gripped softly, and a low noise left his throat.

your head spun with the lack of oxygen, and more heavenly moments stretched on until he pulled back, licking over his lips like he had by the railway yesterday. like he was tasting you.

“not bad, princess,” he whispered, eyes fluttering close with a weakness. you pressed against him, unable to fight the droop of your own eyes anymore, a pleasant muffle filling your head, and a purpling black, splotchy glaze dancing from behind your eyelids.

the last thing you felt were his lips against your cheek, the sound of the fire consuming the splintering, crumbling house with loud crackles, distant shouts, and Simon’s soft breaths against your skin.

okay okay i know that this chapter doesn't have smut or much fun stuffff but i hope you liked konig's appearance LMFAO but i can confirm that next chapter there will be 1. the do 😵‍💫 like fr this time 😵‍💫 2. JEALOUS GHOST SDLFJSLEIFJ 3. and yea less angst pls and thank you

i love all of you. please have a wonderful weekend <3 next chapter will be uploaded tuesday (ON TIME TOO)!!

[aothotties]

Can I have a milf x Levi please 🥺🥺 I don’t know why I asked that but I’m curious to see your writing for it😛

Btw I love love your writing💕💕💕💕

Yes of course!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to write this, life has been crazy busy. Thank you so much for your patience and support!!

Note: The reader is in her early to mid-30s, and Levi is in his mid-40s. The reader also has two kids, only one of them is mentioned right now. There’s no smut in this part, but when I was writing it I ended up going on a tangent lol. So this is going to be part 1 of maybe like 2 or 3?

Warnings: None

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You and Levi met each other during your son’s soccer game.

It’s Friday night, and you’re looking around for your son in the field of proud parents and matching jerseys. You two agreed to meet at the bleachers… 15 minutes ago. Leave it to a teenage boy to remember directions.

“Mom!” You quickly turn at the familiar voice and feel some of the worry wash away at the sight of his familiar face.

“There you are! We said we were going to meet at the bleachers baby, what happened?” You check over his face and body for any noticeable injuries.

“Please stop mama I’m fine. I was talking with my friends and we were gonna get dinner at the diner tonight.” You look past him at the group of boys waiting in anticipation and smile slightly.

“I guess that’s okay, do you need me to pick you guys up or anything?” You ask him and he shakes his head in response.

“Nope, EJ’s uncle is gonna take us and pick us up.” You raise an eyebrow at the mention of a new person and grab your son by the arm before he tries to walk away.

“Hold on, hold on. I’ve met EJ’s mom and dad before, but I don’t know who is uncle is.” Your son lets out a dramatic groan and starts to drags you over to his friends.

“Little boy slow down, my legs only love so fast!” You scold him and apologize to the innocent bystanders you keep pushing with your shoulders.

When you both come to a halt, you’re left standing in front of one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Mom this is Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Ackerman this is my mom Y/N. Can I please go now mom?” He gives you those big puppy dog eyes and you stifle a laugh behind your hand.

You answer his question with a quick nod and he cheers in response, he plants a big sloppy kiss on your cheek before running over to his friends.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Ackerman”

Ari

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Mentions of gore and blood. Smut.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my babies, thank you so much for your patience! I really needed a day or two or three to rest and relax! I was just doing the maths, and since I have combined some of my chapters to make them longer (and tbh might do it again) there is 110 chapters of SFA! So we have 10 left!! ( I do have plans for an epilogue planned after as well) HOLY SMOKES! Thank you all so much for your love and support and kind words AS ALWAYS! I fucking adore you guys. Anyway, enjoy! <3

Chapter 100: The One-Eyed King 

King Aemond, First of his Name, took you atop the Iron Throne more times than you could count, plunging into your wet heat whilst the body of his brother lay cold on the stones behind you.

By the end of your passionate embrace, you knew that you would be aching for days to come, and when you finally removed yourselves from the throne of melted swords, it was done with a gentle hand on the small of your back and a passionate kiss. 

You made your way down the steps, eyes locked onto the corpse of Aegon, the blood around him soaked through the stones. You paused as you looked at him, at his body, at the way the blood had trickled from his gaping mouth.

You thought of how he had raped you.

How he had mocked you.

Hit you. 

Usurped the throne from your mother, and been the catalyst for your brothers death.

You thought, in that moment, of everything he had done to you and to Aemond.

How he caused you to lose your child. 

Anger rolled through you, rage simmered, chest feeling impossibly tight.

But Aegon was gone.

And he could hurt you no longer. 

He could touch you no longer. 

You reared your head back, swirling your tongue and for the final time, spat onto his corpse, leg shooting out to kick the head that lay on its side forcefully with the toe of your boot, Aegon's skull skidding across the stones, wet sticky blood leaving a trail behind.

The hand on your back pushed you forward, a soft, 'that’s enough' whispered into the shell of your ear. You heaved angry broken breaths, inhaling deeply once to calm yourself before you moved forward, head held high as the King, your King, walked you towards the Small Council chambers.

The walk was swift, and it still felt as though your mind had not fully caught up to everything that had happened. But you would have to deal with that later. Right now you needed to be present.

Or as present as you could be.

As you came up the stairs, you could hear the voices of those inside, bickering amongst each other as they waited for you to arrive. The doors were opened by the guards stationed at the doors, and a hush fell across the room. 

You walked in together, and all bowed towards you. 

All except Alicent, who hissed from across the room, eyes red and tear tracks staining her cheeks, as she raced across the room, all fury, towards her son.

It reminded you of the night Aemond lost his eye.

“You have killed your own brother!” Her eyes darted back and forth across his face, horror, and anger, and disgust on her features. But what was more, beneath it all, there was fear.

Alicent was afraid.

Aemond simply looked down at his mother and hummed, lips pursing forward in thought. 

The hand moved through the space faster than anyone could have reacted, striking Aemond across the cheek with a loud slap. Alicent’s chest heaved, and Otto came behind her to drag her backwards, whispering into her ear to try and calm his daughter.

Aemond’s head had barely moved, not a hair was out of place, nor had he flinched when she struck him. As though he had been expecting it to come. As though he expected nothing less of his mother. As though it had happened, once, twice, three times before. 

And it had. 

Your husband chose to ignore his mothers rage filled glare, and moved towards the head of the table, your own feet slowly trailing after him. Aemond held open a hand to the table, ordering the men to be seated, and then he looked to you. 

You were still standing beside him, and with a shift of his palm, and an almost imperceptible nod of his head, you were directed to the seat beside him.

A seat at the Small Council. 

Before you on the table was your council stone, round and seated within its dish.

You had a place in the council.

Alicent Hightower however, did not sit, her seat now filled by you, and her fury rolled off of her in waves that crashed against the dark oak of the table. Her hands shook, and as you watched her, you could see that she was merely holding on by a thread.

It was the first time since the night of Aemond’s eye where you had seen her so shaken.

The King's cold gaze lifted to his mother, and with a soft and careful voice, he told her to sit.

The Dowager Queen’s hands shook at her side, clenching and unclenching, hair wild and out of place, and it wasn’t until that moment as you watched her did you noticed the small stains of blood against the green of her gown. The dried coppery substance had stained her fingertips and hands as she had held the corpse of her son.

Alicent did not sit, lifting a hand to her mouth, pressing it roughly into her skin with worry as she looked to all the Lords who followed Aemond’s command without question.

It was hard to not feel some sort of pity towards her, some sort of empathy, because despite everything, she was still a woman who had lost so much. Three of her children to be exact. And you knew there to be no greater loss in the world than a mother who mourns their child.

The King sat straight in his chair, and addressed the men at the table, "As you were all aware, Aegon was to set the realm to ruins. Rebellions had begun in Riverrun, and more and more of our support had begun to turncloak. His lack of action has made us quick enemies.”

Lord Jasper Wylde nodded in agreement from across the table.

Aemond continued, “He was to bring the realm to war again. Aegon's inability to listen to the council’s recommendations for Flea Bottom had caused uprisings from the small folk down in the slums. Our Kings Guards and Gold Cloaks have been working day and night to keep them at bay.”

You shifted in your seat at the mention of war and the rebellions.

“My time in Harrenhal proved to be an enlightening one. Our men who reside there were ready to erupt into battle with Rhaenyra’s allies. But hers are larger in numbers, and with the North at her side, she is a formidable foe. My uncle Daemon would torch the realm, allies or not. He has no care for the lives lost if that meant crumbling our power.” The Maester played with his council stone before him in thought, the chain of his tunic shifting, “This disruption to the dust that we had once settled, caused trade from the Golden Tooth to halt, and thus our reserves and coin have dwindled.”

Their coin has dwindled.

They’re losing power.

Gods be good, the tides are shifting.

The old Maester leant forward on the table, holding his sphere, “I had received word from the Red Fork that the Blacks, after the commandeering of their small folks trading ships, have doubled their fleet power with Lord Corlys’ warships to block any exit or entrance for our men.”

Your eyes skimmed over the table, and landed on a pair of dark brown eyes. 

Larys Strong was watching you. 

And he was smiling.

Lord Jasper Wylde, Master of Law, picked up his sphere to speak, “Perhaps if we make a distinction that our purpose at the Red Fork is mere-“

“-Have you gone to madness?!” Alicent shrieked, charging towards the table on the opposite side of Aemond, hands slamming onto the wood as she sneered at her son, “You have slain your brother, the King, and now you move forward with business and trade?!”

“Aemond is King.” Your voice floated across the table, looking up at the woman through your eyelashes.

The Hightower woman’s face darkened, “You have willed him into slaying his brother. A manipulation most foul! How much more must we all fall prey to your-“

“Quiet.” Aemond’s voice cut across the room, and Alicent’s lips snapped closed, “For years you have defended Aegon and his actions, and it has become our ruin.”

His voice became deeper, louder, and more grating, “Tis I the younger brother who studied history, philosophy, and is trained with the sword, who rides the largest dragon in the world. It is I who should have been put forth for the crown, not that useless wastrel I called my brother."

Aemond shifted, leaning forward towards his mother as he looked up at her, "Aegon never took interest in his birthright and duty, whoring and drinking and serving his own interests which set ours back for miles. I have done what needed to be done. What should have been done. I wear the Conquerors Crown. I ride upon Vhagar, the oldest and largest of dragons, Queen Visenya once rode. I am the King.” His eye did not blink once, staring down his mother, who’s anger bled from her face, and fear resurfaced in its place.

Aemond turned to look out at his Councilmen, meeting each and every eye, “If anyone dare question my authority, I shall have you removed from these chambers and the council.”

You blinked.

And the world came crashing back towards you, as though you had been plucked from the sky once more, and tumbled down to earth. Because the reality was far more than what you had realised. Far more than what you had even had a chance to feel.

Aemond was King.

King.

And what did that mean for the treaty?

A small piece of anxiety began to worm its way through your bones, nipping at the tips of your fingers, down to the heels of your feet, burrowing under your skin with an insistence that you could not ignore or push down. Your mouth felt dry as you looked out at the table, looking at all the Lords, who gazed back, before you finally turned to face your husband. 

His eye was already on you.

With hands that shook, you lifted your sphere from its place, the weight of it stopping the uneven movement. It was heavy and smooth, and as you look down at it and turned your hand, you found the courage to speak, placing it gently back into its spot, rolling it within its small bed.

“What does this mean for the treaty?” You questioned, fingers pressing into the sphere far harder than needed.

Aemond’s eye flickered in recognition, but settled quickly, grazing over your face and down to your hand. The rest of the Lords at the table waited with bated breath.

It was clear that all wondered what was to come now after the death of Aegon.

What would become of the treaty? 

The treaty had been made with Aegon, not Aemond. 

Aemond’s jaw clenched, holding your gaze for a moment more whilst your stomach spun and flipped. Blinking, he looked away, turning to his Small Council, “You are dismissed. We shall reconvene on the morrow.”

You frowned, continuing to stare at him as the men shuffled out of the room silently, Alicent being all but dragged out by her father Otto Hightower.

It was then, that anxiety truly settled in your bones. 

“Go to our chambers, I will be there with you shortly.” Aemond spoke to you softly.

“But-“

“-Now.” Aemond commanded, tone clipped.

His word was final.

And after today, you did not wish to push his luck. The blood of his brother was still dried upon his face, having not been washed away. Evidence and proof of just how far he was willing to go. And if anyone knew the extent of his wrath, it would be you.

You swallowed thickly and stood on shaky legs, bowing your head to your husband as you left the Small Council chambers, and headed for your own. 

The walk was swift, nervous energy carrying you quickly to your shared quarters, where you paced before the fire place in wait. 

What did this mean for the treaty now?

What would Aemond do?

Was your family in danger?

Would he renew the terms?

Was war to come?

You spent the better part of what felt like an hour, walking back and fourth, thoughts tumbling through your mind like jagged rocks, scraping against the sides sharply. Your fingers coming to your mouth where you bit the nails down until they bled.

When the doors finally opened, you spun on your heel, facing Aemond as he entered, crown still atop his head. His fathers blade was now at his side, which he leant against the chaise, and he moved quickly towards you, one hand coming to cup your cheek.

His movements were sharp, and at first you had been frightened, but as you leant into the warmth of his palm as he stroked your skin, you looked into his gaze and saw it. 

Lust. 

Swallowing your anxiety, and pushing all your questions to the back of your mind, you dropped to your knees for a second time that day, willingly, the skin bruised and protesting, but hands that shook making quick work of his breeches as he looked down at you, eye half half lidded with desire.

For it would be better to broach these questions when he was disarmed.

When you pulled him from his pants, he was half erect, and so you worked him with your hand, and the tip of your tongue until he was hard and heavy in your own palm. Your fingers wrapped around him as you took him into your mouth, the muskiness of his own taste spreading across your tongue, as well as the subtle tang of your own release on his length from earlier. 

Aemond groaned from above, hand smoothing your hair from your face as you bobbed your head along his length, hollowing your cheeks and feeling his tip press against the back of your throat. The King gripped your hair and pulled you down his length, the hairs at the base of his cock tickling your nose as you gagged.

Your husband guided you up and down his length, before pulling you off of him with a pop. 

Lifting you up towards him, Aemond crashed his lips against yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth as you gasped in his grip, his hands spinning you around to push you forward over the table. Your hands splayed out, knocking over an ink pot that sat on the surface, its dark ink spreading across the wood and parchment. 

The skirts of your dress were hiked up your thighs and pushed onto your back, revealing your wet, and leaking centre to the room. Aemond knelt behind you as anticipation swept through you.

You felt his sharp nose press into the flesh of your ass as he gently bit the skin causing you to whimper, before moving down to part your folds with one long swipe of his tongue. 

You moaned loudly, pushing your hips backwards to meet him as he continued, lapping at your wetness, and his seed which leaked from you from your coupling on the Iron Throne. Pleasure wound its way through you, bud and folds overestimated and sensitive from the day of fucking, and before no time at all, Aemond brought you to your peak. 

You cried out against the wood, hands digging into it as he stood, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing into you with a harsh grunt. Your breasts were pressed against the wooden surface, sensitive and aching as they rubbed against the hard table top.

Your body jolted against the table with every thrust, hip bones pressing painfully against the edge of the wood, which only added to your pleasure. Aemond rutted into you in a frenzy, grunts and curses coming from behind you as he gripped your hips roughly, each stroke brushing against the spongey spot within you. 

You cried out, watching as the ink seeped into the wood of the table, nails digging into the surface. 

It looked like the stones did.

How Aegon looked.

How his blood seeped across the floor before you.

Thick and inky-

“Fuck.” Aemond grunted, “Squeezing my cock so tightly.”

You moaned loudly, hand reaching beneath your skirts so that you could press your fingers to your pearl. You rubbed neat circles into the sensitive nerves, sighing as you did, your release rapidly climbing once more. 

“Killed that fucking cunt for you. Killed my brother for this fucking perfect cunt. Fuck. Going to give you an heir.”

Each clap of his hips was bruising, and soon the both of you tumbled over the edge together, the King pushing himself to the hilt inside of you, cock throbbing as it spurted his seed deep within.

You collapsed, face resting against the wood, small strands of your hair having gotten wet by the ink that had been spilt. No doubt joining the blood that stained your hair too. You breathed heavily, letting your release to spread through you warmly.

Aemond rested his cheek against your back, hot breath fanning across your skin as he came down from his high, before he slowly pulled out of you with a groan.

In a tangle of limbs, the two of you stripped each other, the crown sitting beside the bed, as you crawled beneath the sheets facing him, spent from the days events, spent from his cock, and spent from the anxiety that continued to linger in the back of your mind. 

The both of you lay on your sides, looking at one another as he smoothed a hand over your shoulder and down your arm in a repetitive motion. Up, down, pause. Up, down, pause.

Up, down, pause.

His eye danced over your face, a finger coming to brush against your cheek where you felt a dry flake fall away. 

A dry flake of blood. 

Aegon’s blood.

Aemond was lost in his thoughts.

“Skoros issi ao otāpagon, ñuha jorrāelagon?” What are you thinking, my love? You whispered to him quietly, watching as his eye flicked back and forth on yours.

“Olvie hen mirre.” Most and all, Came his quiet reply.

You shifted, moving closer to him, hand pressed against his chest, “Gaomagon daor ōregon ziry isse. Ȳdragon ziry” Do not hold it in. Speak it.

You watched as your husbands chest rose and fell, a static quiet around the both of you. He leant forward, pressing a kiss against your forehead, and then another against your cheek.

“Ānogar kessa ropagon naejot nūmo se rūklun, se mazilībagon se vējes hembar." Blood will be spilt to seed the garden, and set the future sway, “Iā pāletilla vēttan hen ānogar.” A crown forged of blood, Aemond whispered, “Issa hae vestas.” It is as she said.

“Issa.” It is, You agreed, pausing before you spoke again, “Aemond?”

Your uncle’s gaze was locked on a strand of your hair that he brushed gently with his fingers. He hummed, raising his eye to you.

“Sir bona iksā Dārys, kostagon jān naejot ūndegon ñuha lentor?” Now that you are King, can I go to see my family?

Aemond watched your face closely, hand stilling in your hair before it dropped to your shoulder heavily. 

You breathed in, and out. 

One.

Two.

Three.

Four. 

His hand started to move again. Up, down, pause. Up, down, pause. 

Up, down, pause.

“Valzȳrys?” Husband, You questioned again, “Kessa ao ivestragī nyke ūndegon ñuha muña?” Will you let me see my mother?

Up, down.

Pause.

“Kesi jorrāelagon naejot ȳdragon nūmāzma se treaty ēlī.” We will need to speak about the treaty first.

But there was no treaty now following the death of Aegon.

Now the prospect of war returning was a real one.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you lifted a hand, brushing your fingers against his cheek and scar, fingers delicately tracing it.

It was jagged and not as smooth as you would have thought when you first saw it. The closer you were, the more you could see the small little dotted scars that lined it, courtesy of the Maester’s stitches.

“Kostilus, gaomagon daor ōdrikagon zirȳ.  Gaomagon daor ōdrikagon ñuha lentor.  Hae aōha ābrazȳrys, aōha jorrāelagon, nyke epagon ao, kostilus.” Please, do not harm them. Do not hurt my family. As your wife, your love, I ask you, please. 

Aemond hummed and leant forward to press another kiss to your forehead. 

He did not answer your plea.

Up, down, pause.

Up, down, pause.

Where Aegon had anger, Aemond had wrath. 

Where Aegon stewed, Aemond seethed.

Where Aegon saw reason, Aemond saw vengeance.

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