#another reminder about my kofi

[rachalixie]

and to add to my shit. i’m officially being kicked out of my apartment and i have 30 days to find somewhere to live.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #61] Jinxing It

warnings: (1) mention of toe socks, chess talk, showers, a lil bit of titty luvin, lots of kisses, oral (f&m), fingering, ass play (m), whimpery koo <3, a lil cum swapping, the starluvrs are v cute!!! lots of lil clues and hints about upcoming chapters!!

a/n: there's an authors note over on a03 so I'll you spare you my nonsense! but hi, welcome back!! sorry for the wait on this one <33 if you're only just discovering bd, hello---this is part of an on-going story and includes an established relationship, to be read in context with the rest of the story, it's not a oneshot ^^. for kofi subs, there'll be a BD 62 teaser in a few hours!

wc: 13.7K

bd total wc: 560k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Life dissolves with Jeongguk. Days merge into one. 

Like a tablet in water, or stardust into the atmosphere, time melts.

So does Jeongguk, though. He sinks into the bliss with you. Crumbles. Collapses. You’d go as far to say he turns into a supernova, like stars often do when they collapse. 

He lets himself merge into a shared identity that he’s certain isn’t normal of such a fledgling relationship.

Two weeks from the auction, and days have rolled on by without much fuss. Deals have been finalised on winning bids, and Jeongguk’s had meetings with realtors, Yoongi by his side every step of the way. Everything has happened without much thought. Life has just been accepted; new plans and opportunities integrated into the trajectory you’re on. No meteors to throw you off course nor cosmic calamities to falter your future.

Your name is on the interview list for Shinwon’s position, and Jeongguk’s due to be accepting the keys for the building tomorrow. Everything is as it should be.

It’s terrifying, in a way. 

You spent so long fearing the rug being swept from beneath your feet, but with Jeongguk’s help, carpets have been laid. They’re not budging.

And nor is he as he sits across from you, legs crossed, his chessboard keeping you apart. It’s a rarity to be on his bed not wrapped up in one another—but he’s almost as serious about chess as he is about you. Almost .

“You know what to do,” he grins, adamant that his crash course in the game was easy to follow. In reality, he’d moved a few pieces, said a few words, and promised with a smile that you’d be able to beat him. 

His belief in you is sweet, but entirely misplaced. You’ve not made a single move without his gentle encouragement, most times resulting in you giving the match up on a silver platter. 

The correct terminology evades you, and so do the rules. An app sits on your phone unused, a subscription running up a small fortune from a membership never used. It was set up back in the early days of knowing Jeongguk. You swore one day you’d be able to beat him—but life got busy, and quite frankly, chess is not your chosen way to unwind.

But spending time with Jeongguk is, and so you’ll take him in any capacity you can have him.

“Which one should I move?” You pout, utterly transfixed on the chess pieces. There’s a bewildered panic to your expression, brows furrowed over your glittery eyes, hand hovering to and fro over your side of the board.

You single in on the bishop. Look his way with hopeful, wide eyes. He shakes his head.

“Diagonals only,” he reminds you of how bishops move, at which point you realise it’s blocked in by pawns. Your hand moves to one of them, and he shrugs. “I mean… you can .”

“But should I?”

“You wanna capture the king,” he says, reaching across to dictate your movements. He secures your grip on the pawn, and gently pushes it up a single square to free the bishop’s pathway. “Shift this one up, just one space. Clear the diagonal if you want to move the bishop.”

You do as he says, putting the pawn back in its original position so that you can be the one to place it. Slowly, you repeat his instructions, pushing the pawn up the board while Jeongguk nods. 

And then he grins in such a way that you just know you're about to curse him out.

He lifts his strategically placed knight. Knocks your freshly moved pawn. Claims the tile as his own.

“Rule number one,” He smirks, lip ring flipping in the corner of his pretty little mouth. “Never trust your opponent.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” you whine, looking at him with a faux sense of hurt and a very believable pout. “You’re my boyfriend . You’re supposed to help .”

“No moaning,” he dismisses your stropping, knowing he’s lost brownie points for his deception. He also knows he’ll earn your favour back soon enough, so whatever. “Now, what's your next move, baby? Go on.”

You study the board, and assess how different the opposing sides look. 

This time, he’s going easy on you. Kind of. You’ve almost exclusively been guided by him for the last half an hour, over a string of short games, all of which have ended with your very quick and immediate defeat. 

Jeongguk is too competitive for his own good. Jimin never wants to play against him, ‘cause he knows he’ll lose, too.

This is an indulgence for Jeongguk. He ought not to waste the opportunity—or worse yet, convince you never to play against him again.

He likes the idea of chess being an heirloom; the kind of skill he’ll teach his kids in the future. It’s integral to the very depths of his brain—how he works, and how his logical mind can jump and switch sometimes at the flick of a button—yet he rarely shares it with anyone else.

It’s only apt that you’d get an all-access pass.

Hovering over your now-free bishop, you narrow your eyes as you glance towards him. 

He nods. 

And so you move a pawn instead.

“I don’t trust you,” you tell him, because he told you not to. In a way, you are trusting him—just trusting that he’s a bullshitter. 

What you don’t realise is that you’ve just moved the very pawn that’s been protecting your King, and preventing Jeongguk from getting an easy win.

“B,” he sighs, looking helplessly at the move you just made. 

He couldn’t love you any more if he tried, but— fuck —he’ll never understand your brain.

“What?!”

He picks up his queen. Places it diagonally across from your exposed King. There’s nowhere for your King to go, other than in the direct line of his queen. He’s gone and fuckin’ done it again.

Check. 

Mate .

Groaning, you realise what's happening and flop down onto your back. Your brain is fried. There's no way Jeongguk actually enjoys this. 

"Not again," you whine, pretending to sob a little as you look up at Jeongguk's ceiling. It's without birds these days, but there are a few rogue strips of tape that remind you of your history within these four walls.

"B," Jeongguk laughs, clambering around the board to flop down with you. His arm rests over your tummy as his face aligns with yours. Might not have any birds above you, but the way you melt into his touch is just as deadly as it was the first time. You'll scorch a hole through his sheets with even the most innocent of encounters. His lips are a little pouty, smirk prevailing as he teases, "What did I tell you, huh? Protect your king."

"I tried!" You insist, your over-dramatic, distressed expression far too cute for him to care about playing anymore. He enjoys chess, but he enjoys you more.

"You left him wide open for me to take!"

"You could have gone easy on me!"

"I was!" He defends with a laugh, adamant that he could have taken you out in, like, two moves if he really wanted. "I swear you didn't listen to a single thing I told you—"

"I did! Listening to you is how you got that stupid pawn in the first place," you huff, putting your hand against the bottom of his throat to stop him from getting any closer. He doesn't deserve niceties in times like this.

He'd argue that the feeling of your sharp nails against his throat is incredibly nice.

He ignores your moaning. "I'll make you a deal."

"Go on."

"Strip chess."

"Pervert."

"For every move you make, I'll take an item of clothing off," he suggests with a glint in those starry eyes of his, ignoring your remark.

You assess the situation. Mentally make a checklist of his clothes. Sweats, a shirt, a (toe)sock on either foot, and underwear — that's only five moves, but then again, Jeongguk normally has your king trapped by that point.

"I think you're just trying to get me naked."

"I'm always trying to get you naked, B," he shrugs into his sheets, before tearing himself away and getting back into position on the opposite side of the board. "So are you gonna make it a challenge or not?"

"What happens if I take out one of your pieces?"

"If you do that," he hums, as if he's contemplating it. "I'll let you do that goddamn paper plane you wanna try out so bad."

Instantly, you sit up, like a puppy with a treat being teased in front of its snout. Your eyes are wide, smile incredulous. 

It's been a while since Jeongguk made those paper planes in your bedroom. Only one has ever been done, and quite frankly, you think it might have been the catalyst to your friendship's demise, because how you could ever go back to 'just friends' afterwards was beyond you. 

It's not like you didn't try to remain totally neutral about cock warming with him, but the way your heart swells whenever you do it now just goes to show how your bodies were made for one another. Like a turning of tides, or the cyclical rising and falling of the sun to make way for the moon, it's just as nature intended. He was made for you, and you him.

With a glint in your eye, you lean over to the chess board and swipe up one of his pawns at random. With a gasp, and a smile twitching at your lips, you exclaim, "Oh look! I won!"

"B," he laughs, but your expression remains entirely serious despite the light nature of it all.

"Lemme fuck your ass," You grin now, pleading ever so softly. "A deal is a deal."

"You didn't win."

"Says who?"

"Anyone who has ever played chess?"

"I've played, and I think I won. C'mon," you grin, positioning yourself on his lap. The chess piece is still in your hands as you lean down to nudge your nose up against his. "Face down, ass up for me, baby."

"You're in my way," he says.

"You could throw me across the room if you wanted to. I'm not stopping you."

"And I'm not throwing you across the room."

"Please," you pathetically beg.

"You really it want it, don't you?" He grins against your lips. "Huh?"

"Just wanna make you feel good."

"You always make me feel good," Jeongguk whispers, quietly deflecting the real reason why he hasn't let you do it yet. 

Truth be told, Jeongguk is a little scared. 

While yes, he's always been curious about pegging, he's never taken it that far before. Has never had the tools, shall we say, to explore by himself, and none of his exes or flings ever seemed too interested in it.

He wants it. Wants it with you. Just doesn't know how he'll react. Doesn't know what his body will do. Worries that things will take a turn for the worse and that you'll be so repulsed by him that you'll never want to have sex with him again, or that maybe he'll like it too much and that it'll be all he ever wants and it'd ruin just how good things are at the moment. 

His thoughts distract him as your lips press feathery kisses against the thick column of his neck. Something about you, and how delicate you can be, just makes him melt into your touch. His hands come to clutch your hair, a pretty little smile forming on his lips. 

"You don't have to do this," he quietly says, nails lightly scratching at your scalp. Your lips graze against his skin, before he gently pulls you back by the root of your hair. The sensation makes you want him even more than you already do. There's a love-drunk look of lust to your darling eyes, all glittery like they so often are as you look at him. 

Reaching to cup his jaw, you marvel at how a man who looks like him can be as tender as he is. The world would give him permission to break hearts, if he wanted it, but he doesn't. All he seems to want is to adore, and be adored in return—and how lucky you are to be on the receiving end of it.

A slight guilt settles in your stomach. You know he'd give you the world if you asked for it, but he isn't giving you this. 

"I'm only teasing," you tell him, which isn't strictly true. You do wanna do it, but your incessant begging is what you're joking about. It's not like you'll die if you can't fuck his ass (maybe). "I'll respectfully stay out of your ass unless requested otherwise."

He shakes his head. Laughs. Kisses you, 'cause he just can't help himself, then pulls you down into the sheets with him. "I give it a day until you're asking again."

Secretly, he wants you to ask again. It doesn't feel like pressure. Feels like validation; as if you want this even more than he does.

The thing is, you can't say no to a challenge. "Wanna bet?"

No. 

But he can't resist either. "You're on."

Yoongi stands with his shoulders pressed to glass front door, keys looped on his fingers. The streets in this area are always quiet until the evening, minor hustle and bustle from delivery drivers dropping off stock to businesses down the alley disturbing the peace. 

A small hotteok stall sits lopsided, supported by the building's exterior wall, red tarpaulin covering it from the weather and any inquisitive eyes. An elderly man runs it during the weekends, but for the rest of the week, it sits derelict. It's an eyesore, to say the least. Not the kind of thing that screams 'hot new restaurant' to anyone walking by.

It's as Yoongi's contemplating how to solve this problem, figuring the stallhand probably had an agreement with the previous owners, when Jeongguk comes into his line of vision. He tweaks a brow in Jeongguk's direction, almost as if to ask: what time do you call this?

Jeongguk's right on time. It's not a minute past twelve, which is exactly the time Yoongi told him to arrive. 

Sale finalised, paperwork complete, Yoongi got given the keys this morning. It's a done deal. The building is his, and in turn, the restaurant is Jeongguk’s. 

Despite his nonchalance, when Yoongi sees Jeongguk grin, he can't help but smile too.

"Shut up," Yoongi tells him. "We're serious businessmen. Don't get giggly with me."

"I'm not!" Jeongguk laughs, hands up in defence, until Yoongi puts his own hand out for Jeongguk to shake. Naturally, Jeongguk uses Yoongi's hand to pull him in for a hug instead. Patting his back, Jeongguk is almost fighting the urge to cry. He's waited so long for this. Worked so hard. Doesn't think any of it would be possible without Yoongi, but Yoongi would disagree.

"You better make the best fuckin' samgyeopsal this city has ever seen," Yoongi threatens with all the love in the world, breaking from the hug. Passing over the keys, he nods towards the doors. "Do us the honours."

Yoongi is fatherly in the way he never takes the glory for himself. Will be the kind of dad to build a lego castle and let his kid put the flag in place at the end of his labour. 

Jeongguk doesn't mention it, but he's noticed the way Seoyeon has been the designated driver for the past few weeks; how she didn't drink at auction, and how Yoongi's been even more attentive than he usually is. 

Could be nothing at all. Could just be a change in the weather.

But it could mean everything, and Jeongguk knows better than to intrude before being welcomed in on the news. 

Pushing the key into the lock, Jeongguk is quietly enamoured with the fact the premises has a lock and key instead of the typical keypad locks that are usually in place. The metal grates against itself as he twists the lock open, and pushes the door open. 

There's a separate side entrance for access to the upper floors. 

The floors Jeongguk intends to be the restaurant already have a connecting staircase towards the back of the room, which will make it infinitely easier for staying out of Yoongi's hair whenever he's in the workshop.

In the light of day, the furniture from the previous owners now removed, it's so much easier for Jeongguk to envisage how everything will look; where the signage will hang, where the bar will go, and, most importantly, where the disco balls will hang.

"It's really happening," he exhales, as if he hadn't realised it at any earlier stage in the process.

Yoongi doesn't berate him. Instead, he takes a deep breath, too. Nods. "It's really happening."

Though he smiles, Jeongguk wishes he had a hand to hold as tightly as his lips press together. Wishes you were here. Knows you're busy with work, making up hours to account for the fact you'll have some time off at the end of the week for your interview at the Ryu.

Why you need an interview is beyond him. He thinks they're being ridiculous. Thinks that even entertaining the idea of hiring someone else is an insult. Got so wound up about it, ranting to Jimin while he was making dinner, that he burned his sauce a couple of nights ago. Is now on a talking while cooking ban. Jimin says Jeongguk can't be trusted to multitask. Jeongguk says Jimin is a little prick.

The day is lost to making plans; sketches drawn up on Jeongguk's ipad, discussions with Yoongi about how to go about getting liscences for the premises, and back and forth over what should be done with the top two floors.

The idea of Taehyung using the fourth floor as a studio is considered, but both of them know how much he adores his current place. 

"Think he'd live there, if he could," Yoongi muses picking up a slice of napjak mandu with his chopsticks, dipping it into the tteokbokki sauce. They'd ordered from the place near his current workshop, and it makes him lament the idea of leaving it behind. 

Perhaps he can keep them both. Use the smaller space as his own little sanctuary, and the third floor here as his public-facing premises. Might be a bit of a waste, but if he can afford the rent, then why not?

"Tell you what," Yoongi hums as he swallows down his food. "If you don't add something like this to the menu, I'm kicking you out."

"I'll put it on the secret menu," Jeongguk offers, knowing that it definitely won't be what he offers to punters. He makes a mean tteokbokki, but it doesn't fit the vision of what he wants for this place. "Well, what about Jimin? He could start up his own interior place, if he wants. He's got the money for it, and I know the office he's in at the moment has been stifling him. Lost out on, like, three big commissions in the last quarter because the boss went with some other prick's ideas. Jimin's wasted there."

Yoongi hums in agreement as he swallows down his food. "We could always get him to help out with the design of this place. I reckon he knows all the tricks for good energy."

Nodding, Jeongguk laughs. Picks up another rice cake and chows down on it as he adds, "Should have seen him when we moved into our current place. Man had a compass out to align a sofa with the right energy."

"Sounds about right," Yoongi grins, resting his chopsticks back down against the edge of the bowl. "Well, what about your missus, then? Would she want gallery space? Somewhere for curation?"

Jeongguk chokes on his rice cake, and it's not because of the spice. 

"She's not my missus—" he corrects, but then decides he doesn't want to "—at least, not yet. And she's got a big interview with The Ryu this week. I'm not sure opening her own gallery is on her agenda, but I can put the feelers out—and like… I don't know. Wouldn't it be a bit much? We spend so much time together, already. She'd get sick of me if I was working two floors below."

"Would you get sick of her?"

"Don't be stupid. No."

"Exactly," Yoongi says as if it's obvious—which, in all fairness, he thinks it is. "The pair of you are in a perpetual honeymoon phase."

Jeongguk shakes his head, as if he isn't beaming. "Shut up. Just got a good thing going—and hey, you're hardly one to talk. How's Seoyeon?"

"Good, yeah," Yoongi nods, but doesn't divulge any further. As much as Jeongguk is dying to ask, he holds back. "She wants you all round for dinner soon, so expect an invite in the group chat."

"For any reason?" Jeongguk baits Yoongi, cause he just can't help himself.

Unlucky for him, Yoongi is as stoic as can be. "You know Seo. She loves any excuse for a dinner party. Has started making her own pasta and I think she wants tasters."

"B makes a mean pasta," Jeongguk says, because his thoughts so often wind back to you, and he just can't help himself. "I'm sure she'll be buzzing to try Seoyeons."

A sense of pride washes over Yoongi's features. "Gah, when did you grow up, Jeongguk? Practically married, aren't you?"

Dismissive in how he shakes his head, Jeongguk can't help but let a bashful smile grow on his face. The soft lights overhead glimmer down him, putting those stars Jeongguk adores so much right back in his eyes. He'll never get rid of you. Will eternally carry the evidence of how utterly smitten he is.

Should you ever leave him, Jeongguk thinks he'd simply die of a broken heart. Wouldn't know how to walk if it weren't in the direction of you. Would stumble and fall until he inevitably wound up back at your door like a wounded puppy.

So perahps Yoongi is right. Maybe it would make sense to offer you the space—but you've got your own agenda. Your own dreams. Jeongguk can't just entrap you in his.

The thing is, once your shift is up, and you're heading to the restaurant premises to see Jeongguk, you can't help but feel like this is a dream come true for you. 

His ambition and drive have rubbed off on you; encouraged you up a career path you once thought was overgrown with thorns and rubble. Has shown you that all you need is a little bit of elbow grease and a pair of secateurs to go after what you want. 

It's dark by the time you arrive. Lights from the other establishments flood the streets, but the blinds are closed on the restaurant for a little privacy. A handwritten 'under new management' sign is taped to the front door in Jeongguk's signature penstroke. A little smiley face accents it; a show of how he feels, you presume. 

Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you dial through to him, 'cause you've no idea how to get in, nor if he's even actually there. The building is just on the way home from the art cafe, and you'd left Jeongguk's place that morning to a very smiley boyfriend instead of his usual 'don't go' pout, so you figure he's spent all day busy with exciting plans.

"Sorry, not interested," Jeongguk's voice purrs through the speaker, as if you're some kind of cold-calling saleswoman with nothing half-decent to offer him. 

"What if I told you I'm outside the restaurant and that I'm naked under my clothes?"

"Aren't we all naked under our clothes?"

"Just open the door," you grin down the phone as he comes into view through the glass doors. 

He's got the kind of look on his face that you'd expect: pouty lips with heavy-lidded eyes. Softening ever so slightly when he notices the bunch of wildflowers poking out from the tote bag you've got hooked over your shoulder, his eyes are incapable of ever hiding his true feelings. 

Mild confusion ( did someone get you flowers?) dismissed with easy understanding—they're from the stall he always buys you flowers from, so he knows you got them yourself.

It's very conflicting to adore you and to also want to fuck you into next Tuesday, but it garners you a gaze nobody else is ever lucky enough to receive from him. You cherish it. Think about it near-constantly whenever he's not by your side.

"You're a terrible saleswoman," he scolds so softly it feels like praise.

"And yet here you are, answering the door for me," you shrug with a knowing smile, sure that'd he take whatever you sold him. Would buy sand, water, air from you. Would let you swindle him. 

"And yet here I am."

Hanging up, you mouth 'open it' through the door, and he does as he's told—kind of.

Blocking the now half-open door, he childishly asks, "What's the password?"

"I love you?"

"Ew. Gross. Get a room. No."

"Fuck you.”

"Not the password either, but I'm more than willing."

"Ew. Gross," you imitate him, gagging a little for an extra immaturity. "Hmm… Byeol is the best?"

"Ddaeng."

"Jimin sucks?"

"Ddaeng… but I approve. Good guess."

"Gimme a hint."

"It's the name of the restaurant."

The confidence that comes with the restaurant being his now is nothing short of a miracle. He's so certain of everything these days, in a way he never was before—but why shouldn't he? He got the girl. Got the dream. There's nothing he can't do. Statistically, he's two for two. A winner by all counts. A gold medalist in his very own Olympics.

"You've never told me what you want to name it!" You protest with a whine, thinking he's being entirely unfair.

It's not like you haven't asked a million times over. He's just been keeping it underwraps. Was scared that speaking it into existence would jinx it. Would refuse with a coy grin, and assurance that he'd reveal it soon enough.

Truth be told, Jeongguk's gone back and forth over names. It's probably changed ten times since he's known you, but then you said something at the fundraising auction, and everything sort of clicked into place. 

A name was coined and it wouldn't stop embossing itself into Jeongguk's dreams; the branding, the signage, everything. A new vision of what he wanted spawned like lava onto a mountainside. You sparked a volcano he didn't even realise existed, and it's solidified into molten rock. 

"I'll cut you a deal," you offer, knowing that you'll never get it and he'll never ease. Shrugging your shoulder to gesture towards the bag, you begin your enticement. "I've got cold beer and hot burgers from that place you like down the road. They're all yours in you let me in—if not, I'm going home and Danbi will—"

"Say no more," Jeongguk pushes the door open and grabs your hand, pulling you into the vacant restaurant with him. The door clicks close behind you, and Jeongguk spins you around so that you're stood infront of him, facing the large room. Arms wrapping around your waist, Jeongguk rests his chin on your shoulder, gently pressing a kiss to your neck. "Welcome in."

It's a lot to take in all at once. The room stands empty, save for the camping chairs and table Yoongi and Jeongguk had coversed around earlier, Jeongguk's ipad resting on the table with a low battery warning on the dimly lit screen. There's paperwork scattered on the surface—old utilities letters that they were using to sort out the new bills—and a bag of trash tied up on the floor from their lunch.

"I don't smell burgers," Jeongguk mumbles against your neck.

"I was lying."

"You've no shame."

Turning your head, you let him raise his nose to yours, a feathery kiss greeting your lips. 

Whenever your doe-eyed boy greets you like this, you always feel a bit like snow white; as if a dozen tiny creatures will flock to you and bestow their love upon you.

It'd be fruitless, mind you, for none of them could even come close to how deeply Jeongguk adores you. He'd sit in the corner, jealous and bratty as they fawned over you. Would hate not being the object of your affection. Would strop until your focus was back on him.

"I'll order some," you promise, but Jeongguk shakes his head. 

"Won't be here much longer. We can pick some up on the way home."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, baby," he tenderly whispers, punctuating himself with a slightly firmer kiss, before pulling away from you. Walking into the middle of the room, he holds out his arms. Grins. "Welcome."

"It's a pleasure," you grin, freely stepping into the space now, looking around with awestruck eyes knowing that this is his . "Holy shit, Gguk."

"Yeah," he agrees with your sentiment. "Mad, innit?"

"Just a little."

When you think back to the Jeongguk you first met—the one who spent hours upon hours studying for his exams, all the while working at the bar of an admittedly shitty club—you can't help but feel overwhelmed with pride. He worked himself to the bone for his dreams. 

The space is large enough for Jeongguk to go wild with it. There's no end to his possibilities. He's got an arsenal of weapons in his back pocket in the form of his friends—Yoongi can fit the place out, Jimin can help with the design work, Taehyung can make a central art piece, and Namjoon can get it featured in the paper. Of course, he won't take advantage of his access to them, but knowing how willing his friends always are to help out, it's kind of like a no-brainer. He's got all the tools needed for success.

"And right here," he points up, standing in the middle of a square marked out with tape on the floor. It's large and in the centre of the room—the intended space for a central bar and banchan preparation spot, flipping the conventions of traditional barbecue places on their heads. Wants the food to quite literally be at the heart of the restaurant. "Is where the disco balls will be."

For a second, you think you miss-hear him, but the way his smiles grows when confronted with your confusion only proves you heard perfectly fine.

Sitting on one of the camping chairs Yoongi and Jeongguk had set up earlier, you've been watching him talk you through his vision for the place. It sounds incredible—just like him, but in restaurant version. 

"Is that not a health and safety hazard?" You giggle, desperate to get up and stand with him, but feeling the need to maintain distance. He's having his moment. He doesn't need a shared stage—and yet here he is, announcing that the very embodiment of you will be centre stage for the foreseeable. 

Jeongguk shrugs. "Haven't thought that far ahead. There's gonna be disco balls here whether they like it or not, though."

Realistically, if the health and safety inspectors tell him no disco balls, there'll be no disco balls—but he won't be happy about it. Will be pouty. You both know he's just being facetious, and that he'll comply with whatever is asked of him. 

"It's my restaurant, baby," he reminds you, holding out his hands, cause he wants you closer. Naturally, you do ass requested, and join him in his square. His arm slips around your waist, a kiss firmly being pressed to your forehead before your chin leans on his chest. Looking up at him, it's a wonder that you're able to have conversations that last more than a single back and forth. A miracle, even. "I can do what I want."

There's something so incredibly sexy about this cocksure arrogance. He's not the same guy you met back in the confines of Dionysus, and while you adored him back then, you adore him even more now.

"You're sexy when you talk business," you hum, as his hand dip a little further south to squeeze your ass. "Home?"

He nods, a pretty smile hanging off his lips. "Mine or yours?"

"Yours is closer," you tell him, pulling away, linking your fingers with his as you do so, dragging him with you. Hooking your bag up over your shoulder, you're reminded of the flowers. "Oh—these are for you, by the way."

Passing them over, you're not surprised by his confusion.

"For me?"

The bunch of wildflowers looked pretty big in your hands, but remarkably small in his. You have to make a considered effort to not groan. 

"Mhmm," you nod with a sweet smile. "A congratulations."

Jeongguk's head pushes back a little into his neck, shoulders broadening as his smile forms. He quickly tilts his head to the side and then back again in the way he often does whenever his brain is processing something new. 

"Never had flowers before."

"Nice, isn't it?" You grin, knowing that nothing beats fresh flowers when it comes to small pockets of expressed admiration. 

With a bashful nod, Jeongguk feels like he should feel emasculated, but can't quite work out the way he actually does feel. All he knows is that he likes it. And that he wants to get home. And that he wants you in his bed. Naked, preferably. 

His thoughts dart back and forth to the last time you were in his room. Gets him hot. Blushing. 

Thankfully, you don't seem to notice—or if you do, you don't mention it. Why would you? It's cute. 

"What time is your interview tomorrow?" Jeongguk asks as he makes sure the door is locked behind you both. 

"One in the afternoon," you reply with a certain nonchalance, as if you're unphased, which Jeongguk knows is absolute bullshit. "Hobes said he'll work my shift if I buy him a month's supply of Sprite, so I've got, like, 48 cans arriving tomorrow."

He would have done it for free, but he's a tough bargainer and you're just an easy sell when it comes to making the people you care about happy.

"His blood will turn into sprite," Jeongguk laughs, linking his hand with yours once more as you head down the road to the nearest subway entrance. "How are you feeling about it? We can practise interview questions later, if you like."

Shaking your head, you smile. "It'll just make me nervous, and at the moment, I'm pretty calm about things. Thank you, though."

"Well, if you change your mind," Jeongguk reinforces the offer, before you redirect the conversation and get him babbling about the restaurant—projected timelines, contractors, suppliers. There's so much to do, and yet it doesn't feel overwhelming in the slightest. Not yet, at least.

With a pit stop at the burger place as promised, the journey home is effortless. Intrinsic by this point. 

Shoes off by the door, Jimin is out for a company dinner, so it's just the pair of you.

"Has he spoken with you about Nabi, yet?" You ask as you grab some condiments from the kitchen, while Jeongguk fills a vase with water.

"God, no," Jeongguk laughs. "He used to tease me all the time about you, but now he can't even look me in the eyes 'cause he's worried I'll ask about it. Idiot."

"He used to tease you? About me?" You hum, a little smug at this little snippet of information. 

"You know what he's like," Jeongguk reminds you, 'cause it's not like you've ever been spared from Jimin's teasing. "Doesn't know how to not be irritating. Character flaw. Think he was born that way."

Despite his annoying tendencies, Jimin is adored by pretty much everyone he meets. Jeongguk doesn't say such things to be mean, but rather because he views him like a sibling. 

"If anyone knows how to handle him, it's Nabi," you muse, thinking back to Pohang. "He'd have driven me insane organising the Jilympics."

"Don't call it that," Jeongguk smiles at how ridiculous his best friend is. Delicately arranging the flowers, Jeongguk's sense of perfectionism comes out once more. "He's a little narcissist. He'll sense his ego being inflated from miles away, and then his head won't be able to fit through doors." Tweaking a yellow flower to move it more centrally, Jeongguk shakes his head. "And to think the first time you were in this apartment—"

"Shut up," you groan, not wanting to be reminded of it. "Everybody makes mistakes."

"Alright, Hannah Montana," Jeongguk teases you. "It's just kinda wild, isn't it? How everything has just worked itself out?"

"Don't," you say with a glint in your eye. "You'll jinx it."

Perhaps it's foolish—naive, even—but he doesn't think it's possible. Thinks that this is all set in stone. That your names have been etched on a cliffside somewhere, and that's where you'll remain forever more. 

He forgets that cliffs erode. That the weather is unpredictable, and life even more so. 

He's always been cautious. Reluctant of counting eggs.

But he’s hungry. Ravenous. The first at the dinner table, and the last to leave. Bites off more than he can chew. Chokes and splutters in the wake of it all, every single damn time.

It’s a flaw he’ll admit to having, but why can’t vices be virtues? Why can’t he be optimistic? Why shouldn’t he hope for the best? He spent so long living in a perpetual state of fear, and it never did him any good. Wasn’t until he started opening himself to the idea of things working out okay that they actually started heading in that direction.

“I’ll do no such thing,” he assures you, reaching for a pan to start with his second course. Again, he’s hungry in all aspects of the word. Hasn’t even had his burgers yet, but he’s a growing boy, or so he’d have you believe. Better to just get it cooked first, and save him the hassle of getting up again later. “You want some?”

He nods towards the empty saucepan, but doesn’t need to explain what he’s making. You know it’ll be instant bibimyeon.

“A little,” you nod, knowing that this relationship is gonna be terrible for your waistline. Opening up his fridge, you pull a can of soda from the fridge. Jeongguk doesn’t really ever buy soda, unlike you and your minor peach soda addiction, but take-out places always chuck a complimentary can of something in with your orders, so he’s got quite a stockpile now.

“You want a beer or something instead?” He asks, as he begins to prepare the instant noodles in the most embellished way he possibly can. Spices, sauces, you name it, he’s always adding something—and it’s always delicious. 

Cracking the can open, you set it down and swipe the camera of your phone up to snap a picture of him; to document him in his element. “Nah, it’s okay. Want a clear head for tomorrow.”

Jeongguk smiles, hearing the synthetic shutter of your phone clicking. “Obsessed.”

“So?” You grin, immediately swiping across to open up Instagram and preserve the moment on your story. “You love it.”

Though he doesn’t reply, he does look in your direction with a smile that would only confirm your words.

Together, you fall into a casual rhythm, you perched up on a barstool while he cooks. Conversation darts from A to B, Y to Z. There’s no topic of conversation too obscure nor taboo for you to realm into the depths of, but there’s also something comforting about how you can just natter about the weather, how he should get his hair cut, what’s on at the cinema. 

By the time he’s eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, you’re already in the shower. It’ll be an early night. You’ve both been working today, and both have important things to get done the next day. 

There’s no objection from you as he taps on the door and asks to come in. You hadn’t locked it deliberately. Jimin’s out, and even if he’d have come home, he’d have heard the shower going—or Jeongguk would have told him. There’s no real worry there.

“Been looking forward to this all day,” Jeongguk admits as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck, pulling it over his head in that boyish way he so often does. Neither of you really care about being naked—it’s a daily occurrence at this point—but seeing him get undressed makes your heart feel all jelly-like and void of structure. The chambers melt, and so do you. 

It’s not just attraction, but affection. Acknowledgement that he doesn’t mind being vulnerable with you. That the things humans do to renew themselves — eat, shower, sleep — are things he wants to do with you. He doesn’t want to be full if you’re hungry, sleep while you’re starved of rest, nor wash away the traces of you. Renewal without you just doesn’t make sense to him. 

“Me too,” you quietly say as he joins you. The water pitter-patters down on you both, his hair wetting before laying flat against his forehead. When his deft hands push it away, it always falls back. 

Instinctively, your arms wrap around his waist, his around your shoulders, the embrace akin to coming home. 

“We should both just quit our jobs and do this forever,” Jeongguk muses, almost sleepy in how he mumbles his words against the top of your head. 

“Someone’s gotta pay the water bill,” you smile against his bare chest.

“That’s why I live with Jimin,” Jeongguk replies, tone cheeky and warm. 

The smile on your face sweetly settles into something a little more neutral as you outwardly consider your own living situation. “Lease is up soon, yanno. Mine and Dans.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, wet hair tangling over itself against his skin. He holds you just as tightly. “Haven’t started looking for new places, yet.”

“I’ve still got a few months left on mine,” Jeongguk says, pulling back to reposition the shower head. Just wants to hear you a little more clearly. “My bed is basically yours anyways.”

It doesn’t take a genius to work out what he’s insinuating—but it also doesn’t take a genius to know that it wouldn’t be the right thing for you both, yet. 

Your eyes are soft as you shake your head. “I’ve a whole apartment's worth of stuff, Gguk. I can’t just move into your room. Need my own space.”

He frowns, reaching for the shampoo. “You can. And I’ll even move my statues.”

“You mean your action figures?”

“Oh my god,” he groans, and then you’re giggling, and any negative thoughts Jeongguk could have about you saying ‘no’ dissolve into nothingness, like water running down the drain. He passes you over the shampoo once he’s gotten himself some, and adds, “People pay good money for a collection like mine.”

“You mean you spent a fuck ton of money on them?”

“We’ve all got our weaknesses,” he protests. “You’ve got so many clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever been into your room when there hasn’t been an avalanche of clothes on the chair, wardrobe and dressers bursting at seams—”

“Exactly,” You laugh. “Now imagine all of that in your room.”

He takes a second. Visualises it as he lathers up the foamy shampoo in his hair and almost hisses. “Yeah. You’re right. I take it back. Get your own place.”

Rolling your eyes, you flick a little water in his direction, as if it makes a difference. 

He grins, teeth on show, lip ring doing the thing that just makes you melt. 

“See,” you grin right back. “I’m always right.”

The rest of your shower is littered with dumb conversations and stolen kisses between shampoo rinses. In fact, it’s how the rest of the evening continues. Some dumb action film plays on the tv, and then Jeongguk finds a dumb youtube quiz, and you giggle into the early hours over some other dumb shit. Dumb, dumb, dumb and oh so totally in love. 

The apartment issue lingers in the back of Jeongguk’s mind, though, and questions dance on the tip of his tongue. He tries to brush them away, but the mint of his toothpaste isn’t enough to erase them. They taste sour, and he knows the only way to rid the sensation is to speak them into existence.

Gone midnight, the city is still alive. His curtains are open, because you’ve started to get used to the way he likes to sleep, and find it far easier to wake up early when the sun is giving you a warm welcome to the day. Funny, how things change. How willing he was to change his habits for you, and how seamlessly yours have changed to fit him. You’re better for knowing one another, or so it feels. 

The light pollution gives his bedroom a soft glow, and with every change of advertisement on the billboards across the street, the hue changes. Like his own personal mood lamp, it’s become a staple of his home. It’s blue, now, and so is he when he considers the fact that you haven’t yet reached the stage of sharing a home.

Your arm is looped over his waist, ‘cause he’d decided that the role of the little spoon would be going to him. Fingers interlocked with yours, he has no interest in ever letting go. 

“B?”

“Mhmm?”

“Is Dan definitely moving in with Tae?”

“Think so.”

Jeongguk doesn’t immediately reply, but you leave space open for him. A question like that didn’t come out of the blue. It’s something he’s been ruminating on, no doubt.

When he finally does speak, the weight of his soft, if not somewhat pouty, words crush down on your chest in a way that you can’t quite explain. Hell, in a way you don’t want to explain, because it would mean admitting that a man has such power over you (even if said man is Jeon Jeongguk).

“They’ve always been one step ahead of us,” he laments.

And then he leaves silence for you. Knows that you always have a response of some kind that will settle his woes. Feels guilty that you’re always cleaning up the messes of his loose lips, but would be a liar if he said he didn’t crave the sweet nothings you soothe him with.

“They’re on an entirely different path, baby,” you gently press a kiss into his shoulder. He’s so warm and powder-fresh from his shower that you can’t help but want to cling to him like a koala bear. Most importantly, though, you don’t want him to move away. Space to talk is fine, but physical space? God, no. “There's no use comparing.”

But Jeongguk is a glutton for punishment. Will continue making himself feel small for the sake of his perceived flaws.

“Loved you before Taehyung even knew who Danbi was,” Jeongguk pouts, ‘cause he’s in his head again, going round in circles when he really needn’t be. You know he does this, though. It doesn’t surprise nor concern you. If anything, it reassures you, because his willingness to share these thoughts just signposts how far you’ve both come. He used to stew and sour over things like this. Now, he shares his burdens “But they’re doing all these big milestones first. They were a couple, went on vacation, and now moving in together. All before us.”

“It’s not a competition,” you sweetly laugh. “Their relationship couldn’t be more different to ours. Plus I hardly consider a weekend in Jeju a big vacation—we can literally do that this weekend, if you want.”

You’re not sure why you’ve never been away together. Busan is always lovely, but it’s a short drive, and is somewhere Jeongguk still considers to be home. It’s not a holiday. Perhaps you should rectify that. It's better spoken about during the daylight hours, but always a little nicer to dream at night. Make silly, fantastical plans that you could always turn into reality, if you really wanted. 

“Gguk,” you softly continue. “As much as I love them both, we’re literally so different from them. Our relationship was never gonna be like theirs.”

“You think?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, lips brushing against the bare skin of his shoulder. “Well, I mean, he lets her peg him for starters—”

Jeongguk turns so quickly it’s a miracle he doesn’t fall out of bed. Even in the darkness of his room at night, the open curtains mean his shock is easy to make out. “Does he actually?!”

Giggling, you roll onto your back, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. Truth is, you’ve no idea. Just said it to be a dick. 

“Probably,” you say, admitting that you don’t know. You just knew it would cause a reaction. Ease the tension, somewhat. “He’s like, obsessed with her. Would let her do anything she wants.”

Sinking back down into the sheets with you, Jeongguk wraps his arm over your body now. Pulls you close. Presses a kiss to your neck, and says, “You lost the bet, y’know? Can’t even go 24 hours without thinking about fucking my ass, can you?”

It sounds like a complaint, but the way his lips seem unable to stop pressing wet kisses against your throat would prove otherwise. Your hand tangles in his hair, scratching his scalp in approval. 

“Cute that you think I haven’t been thinking about it all day,” you tease, biting back the small murmur of a moan that’s just begging to escape from his touch. 

You often have thoughts about him throughout the day, both pure and impure. It’s not like you mean to—it’s just that there’s something about Jeongguk that is impossible to forget. Like a class-A drug, you linger from high to high, using thoughts about him to sustain your comedown until you can see him again. 

He is your boyfriend, though. Would be weirder if you weren’t a little obsessed.

“Liar,” he scolds. “I picked your clothes up after our shower. Your underwear were dry.”

“You were inspecting my underwear? Freak,” you tease, because quite honestly the idea of him studying your underwear in the hopes of finding arousal is kinda hot, even if a little perverted. “And maybe it’s because you don’t get me excited.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk ignores your insult. Instead, his hand creeps down the mound of your pussy, pausing before he sinks his fingers between your thighs. “So you’ll be dry right now, then?”

“I’ll be just like the Gobi,” you assure him with that tone of defiance he's grown to adore. “Try me.”

You don’t know why you’re offering yourself up like this, ‘cause you know it’s only gonna end up one way.

“You’re such a fuckin’ liar,” he smirks—and then is proven correct as his fingers slide between your slick folds with ease. A gasp escapes from your lips as he casually brushes past your clit, paying it no attention whatsoever. “And even if you weren’t, there’s like, five bigger deserts than the Gobi. Sounds like it’s a pretty easy drought to rectify—but fuckin’ hell, B. My pretty girl and her filthy mouth. Full of lies, isn’t it? You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“No,” you purr, hips languidly rolling to intensify the sensation he’s facilitating. After all, he’s right. There’s nothing dry about the situation between your legs. “Never told a lie in my life.”

His teeth nip at your neck as his body presses up against your side, the thick ridge of his cock letting you know that you most certainly get him excited. 

“You’re so full of shit, B,” he quietly says, lips from a pretty little kiss against the edge of your jaw. “Told so many lies, haven’t you, hm? Like when you used to tell people we were just friends?”

The desperate sigh that escapes your mouth only fuels him on even more.

“You remember the first time I touched you like this, huh?” He husks against your ear. “Those pretty eyes of yours watching us in the mirror. You can see us now, can’t you?”

Nudging his head against yours, he encourages you to look in the direction of his mirror. You always sleep on the side of the bed closest to it, but you rarely pay it any attention these days. The pair of you are obscured—bed sheets and shadows hiding what he’s doing to you—but the eroticism is just as potent as it always was.

“Gguk,” you rasp, back arching when he strokes against your clit just right.

Restraint is something that you wish you had been gifted with, but alas—you are just a girl, and he is just the sexiest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing a bed with. Of course you melt with every little thing he does.

“What is it, baby?” His index finger pushes into the seeping entrance of your cunt, just once, twice, to really get you moaning. “You like it when your boyfriend touches you?”

Something about Jeongguk referring to himself like that always gets you hot, but it’s partially because of the way he almost growls when he does it. You know it’s a turn-on for him. Know that his cock is throbbing. Know he loves calling himself yours.

Tugging on his arm, you encourage him to move on top of you. It’s late, and you should both be getting a good night's rest, but whatever. In half an hour, you’ll both be away with the fairies. If anything, this will help you fall asleep quicker.

“Thought you wanted an early night?” he husks against your lips, finishing his question with a kiss that lasts far longer than any words spoken. His firm lips part yours as your legs wrap around his hips as they grind up against yours.

“And I thought you said whoever speaks about fucking your ass next loses?” You smile against his lips, knowing that he definitely must have a twisted idea of what punishment is. “How is this losing?”

“We never set out terms,” he reminds you, unable to stop himself from kissing you between sentences. “But maybe it's not about losing. Maybe it’s about winning.”

“Okay?” You entertain his flirt, giggling between those kisses he just can’t seem to stop giving you. “So what are you winning?”

He pretends to give it thoughtful consideration. Squints his eyes and looks away as if contemplating one of life's great questions. Why are we here? What is the point of life? How do I want my girlfriend to make me cum tonight?

Jeongguk presses a kiss to your neck, nose nudging against your skin. He’s feline-like. Purry. Pathetic. Just how you like him.

“You haven’t sucked me off in a while,” he whispers, teeth nipping at your earlobe. Your hand laces in his hair, a soft moan humming from your lips. There’s a softness to the slow movements of your bodies. A comfort. A desperation. Unadulterated devotion. “So maybe that?”

You laugh at his shamelessness. Press a kiss to his temple, still scratching at his scalp. “I gave you a blowjob, like, two days ago, baby.”

“I know,” he whines like a wounded puppy, all docile and dejected. “It’s been so long I might die.”

“Hmm?” You hum in response, pushing on his waist ever so slightly until he gets the message to roll onto his back. He does as he's told, because he really is just a puppy dog beneath it all. Well-trained and desperate for a treat.

Following the movements of his body, you naturally ease into position on top of him. Legs straddled either side of his waist, you raise yourself up into a seated position, earning you a grunt of approval from Jeongguk. 

The way his hands immediately reach up to play with your chest is curious, considering he still plays himself off as an ass guy. Strong with his movements, he grips the softness of your tits, his hips gently pulsing up against you.

“These might help prolong my life expectancy,” he says. “Best stress balls known to man.”

He seems quite content like this. Eyes closed, a smile hangs off his lips like he’s in a serene state of bliss. You cock your brow, unable to fight a smile, too. 

“Did you just call my tits… balls?”

One of his eyes cracks open. “No?”

“You definitely did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did—”

“Byeol,” he reprimands your diversion of the topic. “C’mon. Business, baby.”

“Is that all I am to you, huh?” You say, reaching for his wrist so that you can pull your hairband from it. He lets you do so and looks on with salacious curiosity as you begin to tie your hair up in a ponytail. “Just a transaction?”

“Mhmm,” he nods, his own hair tangling against his pillow as he does so. “A bird for a bird, remember?”

“Are we not past the point of the birds?”

“Well, yeah,” he says as if it’s totally obvious. “Thought we were gonna do a plane?”

Jeongguk’s reference back to the paper planes that he crafted in your bedroom makes your heart seize. You know what he means by that. Knows that it’s permission, in a way. That he wants what you want, even if he doesn’t outwardly say it.

“Are we?”

“Well we’re not gonna do anything if you keep up with the small talk,” he fondly teases you, pulling you back down so your chest is against his. One of his hands wraps itself in your ponytail and tugs ever so gently. A soft moan escapes your lips, much to his enjoyment. “I like your hair like this.”

In all honesty, he just likes being able to pull on it. Loves your hair no matter how it’s done. 

“You’ll like it even more in a few minutes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw before you embark on your journey south. 

It’s intrinsic, how you work his body. A routine so well learned it’s not even given a second thought anymore. You know how to make him tick. The way he groans when you press pretty kisses down his collarbones and the way his hips roll when you drag the pink of your tongue over his pebbled nipples.

His hand clutches in your hair, keeping you in that position, encouraging you to pay a little extra attention to his nipples for a change. It’s not often that he wants too much focus on his chest, but he’s so turned on that even the slightest touch is making him go feral. 

“Shit,” he hisses when your teeth gently press down around his nipple before you suck it ever so gently. “You’re so fuckin’ good at that.”

He’s never cared for it before. In all honestly, he actively didn’t like it when previous partners did it. There’s something about you that subverts all his desires. You’ve changed him. Altered his understanding of his body. Opened him up to so much more than he’d ever considered before.

Still, you’ve got an agenda, and unfortunately for him, it doesn’t involve his chest. He lets you move down, one hand lazily hanging by your head, the other resting over his chest. His thumb strokes over his pebbled nipple, still wet from your tongue, the pleasure of your touch sending him into a state of ecstasy.

Your body shuffles down, and you both reposition yourselves. No longer are you straddling, but rather you’re between his legs. His thighs are dappled in kisses from you, before your palms rest flat to his inner thighs, spreading him just right.

Alternating between slow kisses and languid drags of your tongue, you teeter ever so close to his thick, solid cock, but never quite touch it. Every time you get close, he whines, cock twitching.

There’s a satisfaction to be found in the way his body responds to your touch. His desperation is painful. Visceral. All he wants is you. 

And because you can’t bear to see him in pain (whether or not because he’s so turned on he might just die), you concede. Give him what he wants. 

Hands on his thighs, you let a little spit pool on your tongue before slowly dragging the tip of your tongue up his shaft.

“Fucking hell,” he curses, writhing from the contact.

You smile, and the lightness of your breath against the wet streak of your tongue makes him shiver. 

The tip of his cock is already leaky with precum, his eagerness to be inside you so pathetically obvious. You avoid it, instead opting to repeat your previous moves. Slowly, you lick up his fat length, tongue flat as can be. You want him to feel as much of you as he can. Want him whining— begging —for your pussy.

If the precum seeping from his tip is a sign of desperation, then heaven only knows what the fuckin’ mess between your legs is. Every stroke of your tongue against him only serves to make you want him just as badly as he wants you.

Your hand reaches to wrap around his shaft, gently stroking his foreskin. Your tongue flicks against the base of his tip, right where you know he’s the most sensitive. 

It’s no surprise when his grip on your ponytail tightens. 

But it is a surprise when he lets go. 

“Hm?” You chirp, looking up, just to make sure he’s all good.

He is—he just isn’t looking at you to confirm it. Instead, his upper body twists ever so slightly as he reaches for his bedside drawer. 

You know it’s got a host of indecent artifacts—his sex toys, condoms, polaroids of you that are for his eyes only—but don’t give it much thought. Figure maybe he’s after a condom to make himself last longer, until you feel him tapping at your shoulder with the side of a small plastic bottle. 

He doesn’t say anything. 

Not immediately, at least. 

What he wants is something he can’t really bring himself to ask for. Hopes that you’ll work it out for yourself. 

As you take the bottle from him, a small chirp echoes from your throat, as if you’re asking for clarification. Again, Jeongguk hopes you’ll work it out. That he won’t have to shamelessly tell you what he desperately wants, cock twitching and leaking precum on his stomach.

The way you pause as you study the bottle, trying to read the text in the dim light of Jeongguk’s room, only adds to his apprehension—until he hears a soft smile exhaling from your lips when you realise exactly what it is: lube .

Never usually required, thanks to the fact Jeongguk makes you resemble a waterfall from just a look in your direction, you know the lube isn’t for you. It’s for him. 

And given the state of conversations around sex over the past week or so, you know what he’s asking for.

After all, he’s the one who wrote that damn airplane in the first place. Told you straight up that he liked ass play way back in the days of the sticky notes (some of which remain on his wall, yet to be conquered).

His drawer only really has his things in it, though. You’ve not got any of your toys at his place. This is a preliminary. A follow-up, almost, to the night spent in the Min’s garden, doing things that probably scared a few dozen nocturnal animals.

“Yeah?” You encourage, lips pressing to his upper thigh. His body adjusts ever so slightly, as if he’s shy. Your hand wraps around his shaft, slowly rolling his foreskin up and down his length in just the right way to get his hands gripping his sheets. 

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he rasps through the pleasure of having you touch him. “Just want you to do it.”

“Talk about what?” You tease, ‘cause there’s no way he’ll actually enjoy what he’s asking for if he keeps being this uptight about it all. Relaxation is key.

“B,” he groans, this time out of frustration—and so you know you need to be the one to take the lead.

It just doesn’t feel right to take the lead, knowing he’s a little bit tense. You’ve always been so clear and consistent with each other when it comes to consent, and while you know what he wants, you wanna hear him say it first. 

So you leave the bottle of lube next to his thigh and clamber up his body. Legs straddling his waist, you’re pleased that his hands come to stroke your thighs without a second thought. Conversely, your hands softly hold his cheeks, bringing him in for half a dozen pretty little kisses.

“Words are important. I’m not gonna be crude about it,” you tell him, ‘cause it makes a change to the way you joke around with one another. “I just love you, and I want to make you feel good.”

Jeongguks nose nudges back up against yours, as if to plead for more kisses (of which you give him, willingly).

“I love you more,” he argues into your lips, earning a giggle from you that somehow melts all of his worries away. 

“Chess is always an option,” you remind him, but he shakes his head.

“Just… Fucking hell,” he groans as if it’s some sort of laborious task he really can’t be bothered to see through, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s just embarrassed. It’s all rather cute. Or at least it is until he continues. “Just finger my ass.” 

He bashfully half whimpers, half laughs, and then adds a pouty, “Please.”

A smile sinks into your lips, and the way he seems almost shy makes your tummy feel all funny. He’s disastrously cute like this. 

“I’ll make you feel so good,” you promise, lips brushing against his ear.

He nods. Knows you will. Lets his hands stroke up and down your back, bringing them around to cup your boobs. Squeezes. Smiles. Can’t resist himself when he questions, “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” You nod, pulling back to sit upright just for his viewing pleasure. His hands are still holding your tits, gently caressing. He’ll never not love the sight of this. Of you. Of the way you respond to his touch. 

“C’mere,” he grunts, pulling you back down, ‘cause he can’t let you go just yet. Your hands grip onto his bedframe as his lips eagerly latch onto one of your nipples. One of your hands drops to tangle in his smooth hair, a pretty little moan escaping your lips.

He takes it as a sign he’s doing something right. Switches up his sucking motion to flick his tongue against your hardened bud. Get you moaning all over again, the position of your legs spread over his waist, letting him know just how pleased you are to have him like this.

And while Jeongguk might have been asking you for favours, all he can think about is returning them.

Tapping on your ass, he’s a little breathless as he lets go of his latch on your nipple, and husks, “Up, baby. On my face. You before me.”

“Hm?” you languidly hum—not because you don’t know what he means, but because it goes against what he was asking for just minutes earlier.

Still, Jeongguk doesn’t care to explain his thought process (mainly because he doesn’t have one (he just likes having you in his mouth in any and all capacities)). Instead, he just continues tapping your ass until you get the message.

“You’re so impatient,” you lightly scold him while you do as he requests, but barely have time to position yourself before his arms are hooking over your legs, pulling your pussy to his mouth. “Oh fuck.”

He wastes no time suctioning his lips around your clit. He doesn’t care to be quiet about it. Eats you like it’s his last fuckin’ supper. Laps up against you. 

It’s not just his tongue, though. It’s like he wants his whole fuckin’ face in your cunt. His nose rubs up against your clit, while his tongue greedily licks your entrance. There’s no such thing as perfect, but the way he’s proportioned is as close as it gets, you think. Your hips grind, a hand tangled in his hair, the way you both move entirely primal. 

Hands squeezing at your ass, he encourages your movements. Wants you all over his face. Loves nothing more than being coated in you. 

His tongue begins to focus now, though. He positions himself just right. Flicks against your clit at such a speed it’s hard to comprehend—and then he’s moaning. Vibrating against you. Delivering a sensation that could never be replicated.

“I’m close,” you rasp. Whine. Moan. “Don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”

And while he wants you to, Jeongguk knows why. Knows you wanna fuck him. Knows you wanna cum around his cock instead of on his face. Multiple orgasms have never been an issue, but it is late. You do need a somewhat early night. 

He nods, easing up his tongue, slowly sucking on your clit. The movements of his head as he sucks only serve to make you feel like you might cum regardless, so you shakily (and regretfully) pull away. 

When you reposition yourself, he pulls you against his lips for the messiest, most obscene kiss possible. It’s all tongue, and little else. The taste of your cunt. The sweetness of his whines. The filth of how much he loves sinning with you. 

There's nobody else he could be like this with. Only you. Only ever you.

Straddled over his hips, you grind gently, his thick cock perfectly snug between your lips. Wet and swollen, they feel like silk against him. Jeongguk knows, given the chance, that he’d be able to cum like this. Easy.

That’s not what he wants, though, so you retrace your steps. Sink back down. Don’t fuck around this time. Instead, you take him in your mouth without hesitation. Return the favour he’s just bestowed upon you.

Head bobbing up and down his fat length, your hand wraps around the base of his cock. Pulling back, you spit against him, using your hand to spread it, gaining momentum. Loose with your grip, you focus on the tip of his sensitive cock, jerking him until he’s whining. Whimpering.

And then, you let your tongue stroke against his balls. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whines, his hips pulsing beneath you.

It’s all the approval you need for your hand to get a little tighter, and for your lips to take one of his balls in your mouth. It’s a sensation Jeongguk fuckin’ loves, if done right—and of course, you know how to do it perfectly for him. 

You take his ecstasy as a chance to move things along. Know he’s feeling good. Know he wants more. 

Pulling back, you sit on your heels. Neither of you speak, but Jeongguk does slowly nod when he sees you reaching for the bottle of lube next to his body. Trepidation hangs in the air. This territory is uncharted, and it’s been a little while since you last ventured so far south—but you’ve got a roadmap. Know the way. Even if you didn’t, you like to think intuition would guide you, regardless.

Warming it a little bit in your hands, you’re slow. Cautious. Careful, knowing that he’s probably feeling a little more vulnerable than usual.

Hands slick with the gel, you wrap a palm around his shaft. Ease him into the feeling. It’s not like it’s a new sensation, but the pair of you rarely ever use lube. You’re always wet enough. He nods. Lets his eyes close as your other hand gently massages against his balls.

A little further south, you venture. He’s not a stranger to your tongue against his taint, but your fingers are less frequent. He's not as well acquainted with the sensation, but he likes it. Legs spreading a little further, Jeongguk makes himself available for you. 

Smiling at just how cute he looks, you’re a curious mix of enamoured and outrageously turned on. Just like nobody could ever make him feel the way you do, nobody could ever make you feel the way he does. 

“You’re so hot,” you tell him, gently wanking his cock as two of your fingers stroke up and down his taint. You apply a little more pressure. Replace his bashful smile with a wanting gasp.

Slick with lube, you let your middle finger go lower. Slowly, you press against his rim. Watch him closely as his brows furrow. There’s that look of desperation once more, and the assurance that yes, he wants this. Wants you. 

You count in your head. 1, 2, 3… make sure he doesn’t stop moving his hips. If anything, he’s edging himself down. Encouraging you to apply more pressure. 

And so you do. Slowly, eyes trained on his pretty, pathetic face, you push your middle finger against his tight hole, until the muscle eases.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, the penetration of a single finger overwhelmingly pleasurable for him. His eyes flicker open, landing on yours as your finger begins to curl ever so gently. Just a little. Just enough.

Chest heaving, Jeongguk looks beautiful in a way that’s hard to put into words—and when you slowly pull out, he looks ruined in a way that’s also hard to comprehend.

His lips hang slack, chest heaving as his eyes burn into you like the heat of a thousand stars. Face dewy with sweat, hair sticks to his forehead, the storminess of his gaze quickly triggers a whirlpool within your stomach. There’s a neediness to him as he swallows back a breath, lips coming together so that he can lick them, before his pout forms that pretty little o-shape once more.

Breathless as he speaks, Jeongguk rasps, “Again.”

The corner of your lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah, babe?”

“Yeah,” he pathetically nods, fucked out but somehow still painfully desperate for more. Of course he is, though. It’s you. No one gets him like this. No one ever will. His brows furrow together, his tongue flicking against the silver hoops in the corner of his mouth, as his eyes drop to his pathetically weeping cock. He’s so hard. So keen. So needy—and what he needs right now is you. “Please, B. More.”

You tease against his entrance, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp. It’s like a reward, to hear him like this. As if you’ve done something truly remarkable.

Your other hand wraps around the base of his cock, adding to the electricity surging through him. He reaches down. Wraps his hand around yours. Encourages you. Wants more. Needs more. And so you give him more.

Finger pushing into his tight entrance, you’re slow. Painfully so, though you aren’t causing any actual pain. Jeongguk just wants you to hit that spot. 

“Yeah?” You check in.

Breathless, nodding his head even though his eyes are closed, he says, “Yeah.”

Your finger curls. Strokes. Searches. Finds.

And Jeongguk moans in a way you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. It’s a whimper, almost. A plea. Or rather, a confession, maybe.

Your hands work in tandem, your finger stroking right against the spot that makes him whine, while your other hand strokes him in tempo. He’s stimulated in a way he isn’t used to. In a way he never really thought was possible. 

There’s a vulnerability that comes with penetration. Far easier to fuck someone than it is to get fucked.

When he looks down towards you, it's like looking through a telescope; galaxies in his big brown eyes. Wide and wanting, he'll give you all the stars in his eyes, no questions asked, no fee charged.

It’s when your head dips to press wet kisses against his taint that his whines really begin to get desperate. Has always loved your mouth. Loves it when it does things it shouldn’t. 

A girl like you shouldn’t have your nose pressed to a ballsack or her tongue mere millimetres away from an asshole, but the way you focus on delivering him pleasure would suggest otherwise. You’re made for this. Made for him. 

It’s when you whine, though, obsessed with his body's response to you, that he really begins to get twitchy. His hips pulse ever so gently, encouraging the movements of both hands.

“Yeah?” you breathlessly whisper, smirking at how a man so strong is just absolute putty in your hands. “You fucking yourself with my hands, huh?”

Jeongguk is beyond the point of pride. Has no need for dignity. Just wants to feel good.

“Yeah,” he admits between desperate breaths. “Gonna make me cum so fuckin’ hard.” 

Everything is moving in the same chaotic rhythm: his chest, his beating heart, his pulsing hips. Jeongguk’s cock is twitching, the sensation of you massaging his prostate taking him closer and closer to the point of release. He isn’t gonna last, and you don't want him to. 

Your hand grips even tighter around the base of his cock, the stimulation impossible to fight against. There’s only so much he can take.

“B,” he whines. “Oh, fuck.”

“Cum for me,” you tell him, not even caring for your lost orgasm from earlier. He can make it up to you later. You keep the pace of your finger consistent, but wank him off faster. He whimpers and he writhes, but he doesn’t ease up. “C’mon, baby. Show me how good I make you feel, yeah?”

If there’s one thing that drives him wild, it’s when you call him sweet little names. 

“Please, baby,” you beg, because you know just the right buttons to press. His hands grip his bed sheets, eyes struggling to stay open. He’s seconds away from death, or so it feels. A little death, at least. His legs begin to twitch. The onslaught of what is about to happen is unmistakable. “That’s it, baby,” you coo. “Show me how good it feels.”

“B,” he tries to speak, but can’t. All he can do it succumb to the pleasure. Whine. Mewl. Moan.

And then it’s happening; the evidence of how fucking good you are for him painting his abdomen. His cock is pathetic as it spurts ropes of thick, hot cum onto his belly. White and wet, it’s never-ending. He cums and he cums; gasps and gasps. 

It’s not until he begins to twitch, chest heaving, cock spent, that you withdraw from him. Immediately, you gently begin to trail your tongue across his hard abs, cleaning up the evidence of how much he likes having you in his ass. You're keeping his secrets. Promising you'll never tell a soul.

“Shit,” he curses, all breathless and fucked out, one arm over his chest, while his other hand reaches down to stroke the side of your head. “Fuck.”

Giggling now, you clamber up to join him, and Jeongguk cares not for the fact your cum is still on your tongue. In fact, he deliberately stokes his against yours, swapping the evidence of his pleasure between you both. Moaning into your lips, he’s spent in a way he never has been before. 

“God, I love you,” he whines into your mouth. Gets needy all over again. “You know that, huh? You know how much I love you?”

With a bashful nod, you find yourself giggling. “You know I know.”

“Good,” he nods, pulling away to face the ceiling, eyes closed, trying to get a little breath back. You snuggle into him, all rather sweetly considering what you’ve just done. “‘Cause I do. And I mean it. You’re literally, like, the love of my life.”

“Who knew all it would take was a little ass play to get your saying such soppy shit,” you tease him, pressing a kiss against his chest. “Should have done this months ago.”

He laughs now, too. “Just cause I didn’t say it back then doesn’t mean I didn’t think it.”

The pair of you descend into a comfortable warmth, giggling and joking, until you get up to wash yourself up a little. Jeongguk protests. Says he needs to return the favour—but ultimately agrees to wait until the morning. 

“Need to sleep at some point, babe,” you tell him as you both meander to the bathroom. Jeongguk makes a mental note to get a place with an en-suite when he moves out. In a pair of boxers, he watches you fondly as you wash your hands in the bathroom sink, all love drunk and bleary-eyed.

You’re in one of his shirts, and it drapes over your body in a way that it would never drape over him. He likes it better on you. In fact, he likes most things in his life better with the addition of you.  Thinks life would be impossible, if he were ever to lose you. 

“I think I’d die, yanno,” he mindlessly says, watching you plait your hair to stop it from tangling in the night. “If we ever broke up or weren’t together, I’d think I’d just die.”

You laugh, because it’s absurd. Both the concept of dying of a broken heart, and the idea that you would ever break up. 

“Don’t speak it into existence, then,” you tease. “It’s a full moon, Gguk. Can’t be manifesting things like that on a night like this.”

“I’m not,” he assures you, because if anything, he’s trying to do the opposite. Not once does he think to tell you that the full moon has nothing to do with it, or some other belittling remark about believing in the stars, like you know most guys would. Why would he though? A star is the closest thing he knows to religion, and he’s looking at it right now.

“Well, good,” you hum, turning to face him, hair now secure. “Let's just agree to not break up, and that way you won’t die.”

“Sounds good,” he sleepily smiles, tugging on your hand, guiding you back to his bedroom. 

It’s a ridiculous conversation for a ridiculous concept. 

Or at least, in the warmth of lust-drunk night, it is.

In the cold light of day, stark and sterile, everything has the potential to change. 

After all, bad decisions are your forte, are they not?

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | better now

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 3.9k words, a snippet of a day in the life of husband! joel and his lovely housewife | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, cum play, spit kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of alcohol, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: not pretending this is anything other than some little fantasy i had that i needed to write out. i'm really excited about this one shot series for husband!joel though, i have some really fun (and depraved) ideas planned for these two for future blurbs so stayed tuned if you like this one! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

How’s my pretty little wife today?

The words you look forward to each day, falling from your husbands lips in some form or another, whether it’s rasped tenderly in your ear, from between your legs as he smirks up at you, or from over your shoulder as he slams his cock into you, sending you to heaven and back down as soon as he can after walking in the door after work.  

Joel asks the question today after walking up behind you in the backyard, his mouth already next to your ear, warm breath tickling along your skin there as he brushes your hair over your shoulder. The wiry texture of his beard nuzzles right into your neck, sending a thrill down your spine as his arms slide around your waist and hold you tightly to him, swaying you back and forth. The motion is soothing, reminding you that you’re right where you’re meant to be.  

You can smell the workday on him - sweat and dirt and the outdoors, and the lingering scent of the cologne you’d given him this past Christmas. He’d sprayed it on this morning, as he does every morning since you bought it for him. Makes me think of you all day, he’d remind you while you’d watched from your bed with a teasing smile, sheet disheveled and draped over your naked body.

You breathe all of it in, savoring this scent unique to your husband, before touching your hand to where his rests around your belly and stroking it gently.

“Better now,” you answer. More times than not, that’s your response to his routine question, knowing it drives him wild, makes a long day of work ache a little less when he hears you say it.

“S’what I like to hear,” he says, a kiss on your neck leading up to your lips - a long, deep, ravenous kiss that already leaves you breathless. He pulls away so suddenly you nearly have whiplash, your head falling slightly into nothing, missing his lips.

“Smells good out here,” Joel comments, turning his nose up in the air slightly. “Usin’ the new pizza oven already?” 

When you’d made a passing comment about wishing you could make wood fired pizzas at home, just like the ones a restaurant in town serves, Joel seemed to take it seriously, as he did with most things involving your wishes and desires. The next weekend, he’d hauled in bricks and began his work. You’d stepped out into the yard when you heard all the commotion, giving him a quizzical stare, and he’d simply grinned and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he should be building his wife a pizza oven. You’d nearly teared up, feeling grateful and giddy with excitement at your new toy to experiment with. 

Within a few weekends, Joel had finished his new project, always seeming to need one to have around the house, wiping the sweat off his forehead and gleaming with pride at it as he showed you the final product. You’d practically jumped for joy but settled on flinging yourself into his arms to show your appreciation. When that had turned into him fucking you on top of the kitchen counter moments later after he went inside to fetch a cold drink, you hadn’t minded one bit.

“I couldn’t wait,” you say with a grin. When Joel nuzzles your neck again you start to lose your train of thought. His lips press a gentle kiss right on your pulse point, and you sigh into it. “T-trying out margherita today,” you manage to squeak out.

“Hmm,” Joel says, seemingly contemplating the flavor choice in between latching his lips on your neck and sucking, marking you over and over. You’re sure the ones from mere days ago haven’t faded all the way, a smattering of them going right down to your tits, but Joel always needs a fresh mark on you as soon as they start to fade, a way for you to always remember you’re his. He grinds his hard length into your back on the next touch of his lips, and you arch into it a little, your cunt starting to ache more needily for him. 

“F-fresh basil… from the… gar-” you gasp as he pulls you completely flush against his cock, letting out a little, devious laugh.

“Sounds fuckin’ delicious, baby,” he replies. His fingers reach down and toy with the front hem of your dress, delicately sliding his calloused fingers up your thighs, bunching the fabric as he goes. The warmth of his hands on your bare skin blazes a trail up to the apex of your thighs, finally cupping a hand around your warm heat. You instinctively grind into the heel of his hand, and can practically feel Joel smirking behind you. His fingers brush the outside of your panties, starting to rub circles on the wet fabric. He lets out a low growl, deep and needy in the back of his throat feeling the evidence of how much you’d anticipated him coming home. 

“So wet for me already, huh, doll? Couldn’t wait f’me to get home ‘n take care of ya, I bet,” Joel taunts in your ear before sucking on the lobe, and you’ve gone breathless now, nodding your head. His fingers tease the edge of your panties again, finally slipping one underneath the fabric, feeling the obscenity of your wetness directly, and he lets out an impressed tut, sucking in air between his teeth. You nearly moan out at the smallest touch he’s giving you, the way his rough, worn fingers gently brush over your clit for just a split second. 

“She’s so needy, ain’t she?” Joel coos in your ear, swiping a finger to your entrance and back to your clit. You can feel how slickness quickly gathers on Joel’s digits as he teases you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lean back into him, letting your head drop to his shoulder as pleasure wracks your body already.

“Mhm… needs you,” you murmur, turning your head towards his where he meets your lips, continuing steady strokes on your aching bundle of nerves. His lips are softer than you’d think, looking at the hardened grump behind them, but like so many parts of Joel, they are only soft for you.

“Needy, needy girl… good thing I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ my cock in that little cunt of yours all day.”

“A-all day?” you say with a little smirk, rutting your ass back into his throbbing length, and Joel groans with the friction.

“Second I pulled out of it this mornin’,” he replies, low voice drumming against your skin, and you shudder, desperate for what you know he’s about to do.

Another routine of yours - Joel comes home from work, and more days than not, he fucks you. And you enjoy every second of it, basking in the attention and his cock filling you up in the way nobody and nothing else can. You crave him night and day, never having gotten your fill, wondering if you ever could. His hunger for you in return only fuels the fire, a vicious circle the two of you seem to have no intention of breaking.

Your weakness lies completely in the man standing behind you, burying his fingers in between your legs and making you moan out wildly before he’s even had his way with you.

“Fuck, gotta get this cock in you, baby, split you open f’me so good, fuck you stupid,” Joel grunts suddenly, interrupting your swirling thoughts, withdrawing his fingers in a flash and leaving you whimpering. It’s not fair, the way he affects you. 

Nobody should have this power over you, but the minute you’d met Joel, you couldn’t deny the way he’d made you feel. Masculine and warm, rough hands and broad shoulders that you’d clung to that same night you’d met him in a bar, fucking mere hours later in the bathroom. Even in your drunken haze you’d submitted to him fully, Joel having no problem ordering and throwing you around the bathroom like you were just a toy to play with, his little doll. You’d found that you could never look back after that night, the safety he represented to you, the adoration he showered you with, the way he fucked you like it was his last time every time. When Joel saw how willing you were to be his in the way he craved from a woman, there was no stopping the insatiable beast he became, hellbent on never letting another man feel your touch again. Joel promised you a good life, an amazing life, even, and in the last few years, he had more than delivered for you. 

“Hush now, you’ll have what you want in a second,” he says, running a quick stroke of his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug. On principle, you let out a little mewl at the sensation, too many instances of your hair being tugged and pulled with Joel involved to not recall those memories with the pain of it. You hear the jangle of his belt as he frees himself from his jeans, the familiar sound of Joel’s thick, heavy cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. You’re already cock drunk without having seen the damn thing yet, and it’s nearly laughable how pliable you are when Joel’s involved. It’s always been that way - you’ve been happy to oblige his every desire, no matter when, where, how he wanted it, or the frequency. You were his to use, to pleasure, to fuck senseless, and you got off on the way all of it steadily built his need for you just as much as it did with your need for him.

“Please…” you whine, trying to slip out of his grasp and start for the sliding glass door to the house, making the assumption that he’d be taking you inside at any moment to take what he needed from you. 

Joel immediately tightens his hold on you, a dark tut in your ear that goes straight to your clit.

“Not so fast, little doll,” he croons, hand grabbing your cunt through your dress again to hold you to him. “Right here,” he adds on, turning your body towards the outdoor dining table in the backyard. 

“J-Joel… right here?” you question, knowing you shouldn’t. It won’t matter anyways. “The… t-the neighbors…” you whimper quietly as Joel crowds you against the table, tearing your dress up over your ass, revealing your lacy little thong to him. He groans at the sight of your bare ass ready for him to claim before roughly shimmying your underwear halfway down your thighs. He places a rough hand on your back, pressing you down into the table so that you’re completely bent over, your hands splaying out into the wood to support yourself. 

“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.” He pushes in on the last sentence, and you gasp at the stretch and burn of his girth. Your vision goes white for a moment with the mix of pure pain and pleasure, and your mouth hangs open, panting in delight as he fills you inch by inch. 

“Mmm… such a sweet little pussy, honey…” Joel says quietly once he’s seated fully inside of you. He’s just as lost in the bliss of it as you are. “Know I’d fuckin’ live right here if I could.”

You give him a little moan of satisfaction, wiggling your hips to give yourself any sensation of movement from his cock. He places his hands on either side of your hips, squeezing his grip tightly enough to bruise before starting to thrust himself into you. You cry out in a yelp, the noise passing though your lips before you can even control it. 

“Yeah…” you whimper, face pressed against the table, trying to peek up as Joel looms above you, like some higher being that has the power to decide your fate, to decide the pleasure or pain you’ll have to endure in this moment. And truthfully, you do worship him. The way he moves inside of you, makes you crumble underneath even the lightest of his touches. The way he spoils you in every regard - you’ve never wanted for a single thing for as long as you’ve been Joel’s, him vowing to take care of everything you ever need, and in return, you take care of everything he needs. 

To some, it might seem like there’s a lack of balance in the way you do things, but fuck do you love it, you think as you desperately cling onto the table, manicured nails digging into the wood as Joel’s cock rams back into you, pressing so deep inside of you that you see stars.

You let out a low, strangled sound, whining as Joel begins to press against your cervix, the front of your thighs bumping into the table with every new thrust from him. He grunts with the exertion, fucking into you hard, taking what he wants, leaving you both breathless with the need for more of each other. You let Joel take and take and take because of how much he gives in return - while he loves to use you, he always makes sure you get every bit of pleasure you deserve for being so good to him.

When you continuously moan louder as Joel fucks you towards your high, you glance around, the small sliver of your brain that’s still rational worried about you two getting caught by your neighbors. The thought is equally mortifying as it is thrilling, but you decide you’d rather not deal with the embarrassment today if you can help it.

“Still worried about the neighbors, hm, pretty girl? I’ve got an idea,” Joel says, responding to your sudden nervousness. Before you can even answer, his hands are wrapping around your shoulders, urging you up from the table. You follow along, breathless and dazed, letting him move you as he wishes, too deliriously starry eyed for him to care about anything else other than what Joel is gearing up to do to you next.

He accidentally slides out with the movement of your body, and immediately he’s grasping at your hips, practically clawing his way back to you as he pulls you tight to his body again. His throbbing, dripping cock slaps periodically against your ass as he shoves you forward, pushing your body towards the house. 

“Here,” he grits out, suddenly crowding your body from behind to press you against the sliding glass door. “That better?”

“I- yes,” you say, eyes wide from the way you’d been roughly handled by him the last few moments. Your cunt aches almost painfully, having been getting so close to your climax only to have it ripped away suddenly when Joel decided to move you.

“Good,” he snips quietly. “Couldn’t stand to keep this cock out of you much longer’n this.”

With his words he brings his lips to the back of your neck again, just his heavy breathing fanning across the skin there, making you wild as he repositions himself and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You feel the length of him tease between your legs, sliding up to your entrance again. He groans loudly, letting you know how badly he wants you, so you try to pop your hips up at just the right angle you know he’s looking for. 

He slides in effortlessly and with a renewed vigor, hips snapping into you, pressing you further into the sliding glass door with neither of you seeming to be worried about the way it’s suddenly shaking on the frame. It’s completely lewd, the way you imagine the two of you - your entire body against glass, tits being pressed out the top of your dress and bouncing, palms spread against the smooth surface, nails clawing and unable to grasp at anything.

Your body is shaking in his hold now, Joel’s cock hitting inside of you in all the right places. You can feel yourself tensing, almost like every cell is going taut, your core pooling heat deep inside of you with molten pleasure from Joel hitting the spongy bit inside of you. 

“Fuck, love it when you sound like that f’me, doll,” Joel punches out as he hears your moans becoming louder and more desperate the longer he continues to thrust against your g-spot. You can’t respond, only continue your lustful noises with a renewed vigor as you try to bounce your hips back into his thrusts, getting him deeper than what’s even possible, the length of him already burying up to the hilt each time he drives himself into you.

“Know you wanna come for me, baby,” he says right in your ear, voice hoarse with need, and you whimper in response as his hand snakes around your hips and in between your legs, circling a gentle pressure on your clit. 

You feel your hold on reality completely break, your eyes squeezing shut as you melt into the way your entire body is tingling with pleasure now, waves of it turning into spasms as you go practically limp with shaky knees. Joel’s hands hold you in place, his warm strength keeping you upright as you push down onto his cock, riding out your climax and screaming for him. 

When your movements start to slow and your body relaxes, Joel thrusts into you even harder, loving the way you’re so compliant and soft after climaxing, letting him move in you however he needs as you ride out the sensitive aftershocks with a few quiet yelps.

“This little pussy is all mine, y’know that, right?” Joel reminds you through clenched teeth, giving your ass a firm slap. You nod vigorously, eyes still half lidded and mind scrambled from the way he’d shattered you mere moments ago.

“Y-yes, Joel,” you say when he slaps your ass again, demanding an answer. Your breathy answer is enough to get him to his own climax, and he surprises you by pulling out suddenly, leaving your body lurching back into nothing, missing the fullness of him already. Before you can protest, say anything, Joel’s hands grip your shoulders and spin you around and push down, forcing you onto your knees in one fluid, swift motion. You watch, wide eyed, as he fists his throbbing cock, shiny and coated in your own slick arousal as he spreads it along his shaft in jerking motions.

“Be a good girl and open up,” he commands, and you submit to the words immediately, mouth hanging open, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. Joel smirks at that before giving himself another swift tug, and you watch in renewed wonder as he begins to spill himself all over your face, ropes of cum hitting your skin. You taste him on your tongue immediately, savoring it. Your eyes are glued up on Joel’s face, watching his glazed gaze taking in the scene below him as he groans in pleasure, trying not to tilt his head back and get lost in the moment so he doesn’t miss a beat of your beautiful surrender to him.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he watches the last bits of his release hit your tongue. “Don’t you dare swallow that, yet, doll,” he adds on quickly, eyes fluttering for a moment before he tucks himself back into his slacks. He continues to tower over you for a prolonged few seconds, looking down in satisfaction at the image of your glowing, angelic face coated in something so sinful, the milky substance starting to drip down your face, your tongue trembling slightly with the need to swallow.

“Hold still,” he says needlessly since as the words come out of his mouth he grabs your chin, tilting your head upwards and gathering spit, letting a long, tortuously slow drip of it fall into your open mouth. It lands on your tongue, combining with his cum and Joel smirks again, releasing your chin.

“Swallow, my little doll,” he says, voice starting to go soft, an indication that he’s feeling satisfied and finished with his enjoyment of you. You close your mouth, smile, and swallow obviously for him, licking your lips for good measure. 

Joel holds out a hand, helping you stand, your legs buckling slightly as you try to get your bearings. He carefully smooths your disheveled dress, flattening the bottom half and tugging the neckline back into place before fixing the straps to sit perfectly square on your shoulders, eyes roaming over quickly to examine his work with pride. His hands then move to your hair, brushing his fingers gently to put it back in its place, leaving every part of you like none of this had just happened besides your face, still dripping with his spill. Your smile widens, seeing him watch a particularly large spot of it sliding down your cheek. You see his composure fail for a moment before he strokes your cheek gently, avoiding any of the mess there, giving you soft, affectionate eyes.

“Good girl,” he says quietly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Pizza’s probably ready,” he adds on, the casual tone taking you aback for only a moment before you blink yourself back to reality and nod dutifully.

“Of course,” you say, a genuine smile plastered on your face as you look at your handsome husband, admiring the way he’s looking at you with stars dancing across his eyes, the deepest love for you tucked away in his deep brown irises.

“After you get that, go clean yourself up, doll,” he says, and you nod again, the smile not leaving your face. You see out of the corner of your eye Joel settle onto one of the chairs at your outdoor table, leaning back casually as if he hadn’t just had you bent over that exact table, fucking you for the entire neighborhood to possibly see and hear.

You gather everything you need, serving utensils, plates, and two cold beers before bringing it to the table along with the pizza and a freshly tossed salad you’d made to accompany it. Each time you drop something off, the smirk on Joel’s face grows, watching the way you work with the evidence of his obsession with you still lingering on your flushed cheeks.

Once the table is set and your face cleaned off, you join Joel outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening, and see he’s already served you two generous slices of the margherita pizza. 

He reaches a hand onto the table, taking yours delicately into his palm, dwarfing it with the size of his thick fingers as he absentmindedly runs his thumb along your knuckles, stopping to play with the large, gorgeous diamond on your ring finger. Another reminder to him that he has you all to himself, his pretty little wife.

“Thanks for dinner, baby” he says, eyes locked on yours as he uses a free hand to pick up the pizza and take a large bite, letting out a little noise in satisfaction at the flavor.

“Anytime.” You smile, genuine and tranquil, a fresh appreciation and love for the life you’ve found yourself so grateful to be living.

tysm to @jupiter-soups @huffle-punk @rensraptor for so much help with ideas and writing this fic! love u guys x

[finniestoncrane]

HELLO FINNIE!! HELLOO FINNIEE!!!

We already talked a bit about this but, would you make some headcanons about how all the mercs from TF2 would hug and comfort someone having a bad awful day?? Please and thank so very very much LOVE YOU 🧡

TF2 Merc Headcanons thank you gus gus for asking me for my very personal and no doubt completely off-canon opinions on the boys!! i too needed some comfort and hugs from them omg u-u i'm also very much hoping that these work platonically and romantically!! ❤️ request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: comfort, hugs, cheering up attempts

scout

he struggles to take things seriously, younger brother in a sitcom ass

"there, there, it could always be worse... i guess, maybe... probably not though this is pretty bad"

a gentle pat on the shoulder, and then another, and then another, and then a relatively painful whack to see if the shock works

playful teasing that maybe makes things worse at first, but makes you giggle

and then when he takes it too far, gives you a reason to pummel him, which lets you release some of the anger!!

even with his often blunt and immature response, there's always a sense that he cares deeply

it's there in his embrace, a one armed side-hug that pulls you in close while he asks you in his softest tone

"hey, you wanna go play baseball or somethin'?"

pyro

hugging isn't actually his go to response, and it's not third or fourth on his list either

first of all, he's taking you outside to set fire to something

it's cathartic, and fun, and dangerous!! and FIREY

then he's trying all of the things that make him happy!!

you can play dolls with him? or have a tea party with his stuffies!

or maybe you just wanna lay on your tummy on the floor and do some colouring in

but if none of that cheers you up, and he can't destroy the thing/person that made you sad

then he'd wrap his rubbery little hands around you and bring you in for the biggest squeeze he can offer

sniper

pack it up fellas, it's time to head out on a "touch some grass (or sand)" nature trip to cure the blues

you get to sit up front in the van, obviously

not in the back where you're bouncing off the walls and ceilings

he'll stop at every service station to get you a fun beverage or a snack on the off chance that it will make you crack even a little smile

and then you'll be out there in the world, safe because he's standing directly beside you

he's surprisingly big on physical affection, so he'll have you in a side hug most of the time, just to keep you comforted

and before he lets you go off to your room, he'll get out of the van and give you the biggest hug

full body, very warm, very gentle, completely silent

heavy

the gentle energy in him is in itself, quite intense

likely because he has all of this stored up nurturing and soft encouragement and gentle adoration

but his sisters don't really need it (and let's face it they never did, he just over worried)

so if he has a reason to love and comfort, he's taking it

you'd barely even have to utter a little word of sadness and he'd be wrapped around you

maybe so tight that you might have to get your ribs checked at the emergency room

but the bear hug is worth it

it's warm, safe, comforting, everything that heavy is

and bonus: he can lift anything and anyone

so if you need to be cradled like a leetle behbeh to get some sleep or to work through the sadness, then he can do that!!

soldier

TURN YOUR FROWN UPSIDE DOWN SOLDIER!!

there's so much to be grateful for!! like freedom!! and honey!! and guns!! and america!!

but if none of that works, he's willing to put his shirt back on just long enough to let you nuzzle into his chest for a hug

and if you're very lucky, you might feel another large set of arms around you

because if soldier is hugging you, then zhanna is joining in

maybe with a menacing reminder to stay away from her man

but still with enough warmth that you're surrounded from both angles and left with a fuzzy feeling in your chest

and a little bit sweet and sticky too...

medic

a sensible shoulder pat is his first port of call, because he's usually elbow deep in some body cavity or other

and there's not much he can offer in the way of extensive comfort that doesn't involve you being covered in blood, or worse

but once he's cleaned up, he's all OVER you

you're just a little dove in need of some snuggles

a little soft coo in your ear while he holds you close

a gentle stroke with his large hands so he doesn't hurt you, keeping things light and gentle, not intense (as he usually is)

face smothered in his chest as he rocks you back and forth and sings a deeply concerning lullaby

and then, if none of that works, he'd let you root around in his pile of "dead bits" for something to carve up

it really does let out all of the tension and stress

engineer

oh no don't be sad, he can't engineer his way out of this one...

or can he... OH!! maybe what you need is some comfort, he can do that

just give him 16-20 hours and a large amount of sheet metal and screws

he can work something out, like a little machine that can pat your head at different intervals depending on your needs

or a set of arms that can hug you, as well as deploy turrets and toss grenades!!

but you still look sad... perhaps, while you're waiting on him to create the cure for your sadness

you'd like a little hug?

and honestly, who can hug better than a short king with thick arms? perfect height, perfect squeeze, sweet little honied words to make you smile

absolute love bug with a perfect remedy (eventually...)

demoman

"do you want to drown your sorrows like a horrible wee beastie?"

"or do you want me to come over there and cuddle ye like a wee bairn?"

you can choose one or the other, or both!! either way your soul is going to feel lighter and warmer by the time he's finished with you

and, realistically, you're gonna get hugged either way

once he's drunk enough he won't be able to stop himself from holding you so tight you can't breathe, smooshing your cheeks between his palms, and just generally loving all over you

"yer a bonnie wee thing, i wish you never had to pout they wee lips"

he's slurring his words, but they're all meant with the greatest of sincerity

and you can bet he'd be just as willing to do it all sober

spy

he's a man of few words when it comes to comfort

somehow, despite his confidence in every other area and his preparation for every scenario, this one escapes him

the risks are a lot greater, somehow, than anything else

because he feels like he has to cheer you up, he has to make you feel better

anything less is a failure in his mind

so if you come to him with wet, sad little eyes he won't say a word

a quick grab of you by the shoulders, bringing you in to his room

where he'll wrap a robe around you and make you a nice omelette

and feed it to you in manageable bites

and give you a little tiny peck on the cheek and a quick tap on the head

and then a hug that could be formal or very romantic, it's hard to ascertain the meaning behind it, but it gives you exactly what you need without revealing anything

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART FOUR

previous chapters | kofi | ok babes, lemme preface this chapter by saying i'm not exactly sure how i feel about it. i wanted it to be longer and i wanted more things to happen but this week has simply been a clusterfuck for me and i wanted to at least get something out to you guys cause you deserve it. i hope yall like sexting and phone sex cause that's all this part really consists of, so if that's not your thing i'm sorry and i hope the next part will be more enjoyable for you. thanks for bearing with me 💕 chapter summary: joel is busy with work but that doesn't mean there aren't other things you can do without being in the same room. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, corruption, praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader’s family are very catholic), sexting, phone sex, mutual masturbation word count: 4.2k ao3

Now that you have Joel's phone number, it's ridiculously difficult not to text him constantly, especially considering he hasn't reached out since his first initial response. You'd replied to his first message with a heart emoji, something you'd almost immediately regretted but have had to come to peace with. You manage to keep yourself busy for most of the day, reminding yourself that he's at work and probably doesn't have time to be texting some shy and inexperienced college girl. It's not like you're in a relationship or anything; you've known the man for three days.

"Three days," you whisper to yourself, settled in your favorite spot in the backyard, near the pool. Three days and he already has his claim on you, the ghost of his touch still peppered all over your skin. You'd put on a bathing suit in case you decided to go for a swim, but also because you wanted an excuse to look at your body again, look at where his hands had been.

It's been so rare for you to ever look at yourself the way you do now, the way Joel has taught you to. You were almost ashamed of having a body to begin with, embarrassed by your legs, your breasts, and especially what lay inside your underwear. You'd been raised to view them all as taboo, despite them all literally being a part of you. The swimsuit you wear now isn't necessarily the sexiest thing, just a black one-piece you'd bought at the beginning of the summer with modesty in mind, but you find yourself feeling different in it, more confident. Mr. Miller likes this body. I like this body.

Your phone buzzes near your head and you scramble to reach for it, pushing your sunglasses down your nose and peering down at the screen. Disappointment floods you when you see it's just from your mom, but your eyebrows raise in curiosity when you read the contents of the message:

Will be home after your father. Don't tell him about Mr. Miller.

Your mother? Asking you to keep a secret? It's probably one of the most uncharacteristic things she's ever done; you have to read the message a second time to make sure you're understanding correctly. Why doesn't she want your dad to know? He was the one who'd attempted to defend Joel in the first place, wasn't he?

Almost like she knows you're going to question her logic, another messages comes in a few seconds later:

I will tell him on my own.

Interesting.

You swipe back to your "conversation" with Joel and feel your heart flutter at his one-word reply. God, you really are insatiable. You wonder what he's doing right now; lifting heavy things? Ordering people around? You certainly know that he's good at telling people what to do...

Your skin warms at the thought and you quickly shake it away, tossing your phone back into the grass and taking a few steps toward the pool. You plunge into the cold water just to soothe the hot ache you already feel between your legs.

--

Dinner is normal, although the secret hanging in the air between you and your mother isn't lost on you by any means. You definitely didn't get your ability at keeping secrets from her; she's flustered, quiet as she chews her meatloaf and awkwardly questions your father about his day. He doesn't notice anything is amiss though, just scarfs down his food and mutters something about paperwork before disappearing into his office.

"Why don't you want me to tell Dad?" you whisper as you help her do the dishes, watching as she scrubs a plate unnecessarily hard.

"Because," she hisses, eyes darting to his closed office door in the hallway, "Your father will want to ask him over for dinner again and I am not having a repeat of what happened last time." She makes a face at the thought of Joel's previous insult, "If we're going to help this man find his faith we have to take things slow, just like you said. I'll tell your father when the time is right."

You're at a loss for words at the way your lie has somehow already wormed itself into your mother's brain without a shadow of a doubt. She's genuinely convinced you're trying to do the right thing, turn Joel Miller into a God fearing Catholic. It makes you uncomfortable to think about how your lie has already gotten this deep; for a moment you briefly consider calling the whole thing off, changing the story, maybe even telling the truth.

And then your phone buzzes in your pocket.

"Whatever you say," you reply quickly, drying the last plate and backing away, "Um, I'm gonna go read in my room for a bit."

--

How was your day?

The text makes your heart positively soar as you flop onto your bed again like you had this morning, bringing your phone to your face and grinning like an idiot. He didn't forget about you.

boring. i missed you.

You don't care if you come across as clingy; it's how you feel. Your heart does stutter a bit when you hit send but all nervousness fades when he responds just as quickly:

Missed you too, angel.

You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat, heart pounding when his little speech bubble appears again to show that he's typing something else:

What did you do?

went swimming

What an image to put in my head.

You smile, feeling your cheeks warm. Your face falls however at his next message:

What did you wear?

You grimace, eyeing the ridiculously modest swimsuit hanging off your desk chair, still damp from earlier. Should you be honest or come up with a white lie, put a different image in his head? No, you've already lied enough for one day.

a one piece but i don't like it. it's not very me.

I'll buy you a new one. Tell me what you like.

He'd really do that? You bite your lip and weigh the options in your mind, thinking about the lingerie on those mannequins this morning, the things your roommates back at college wear. You want something you'll feel different in, something that makes you feel more like this sexy version of yourself Joel is helping you discover.

bikini. maybe pink or blue?

You got it. Maybe you can give me another fashion show.

You feel a surge of excitement, of intrigue. You'd wondered at the mall what kind of clothes Joel would want to see you in... he'd loved the dresses this morning - especially the white one - so you can't help but wonder what kind of swimsuit he'll choose for you. You're not completely sheltered; you know there are different types of bikinis. One of your friends had worn a micro sling bikini for Halloween last year as a part of her costume for a party she was attending - you'd taken one look and decided you weren't going.

Would Joel pick a bikini like that for you? The thought makes you feel a bit queasy, suddenly unsure if you'd even want to wear something like that. You want to look good for him but you don't want to sacrifice everything about yourself to do it. You stare at his message, wishing he wasn't just words on a screen right now.

where are you?

At a bar with my crew. But I'd much rather be wherever you are right now, babygirl.

You relax a bit into your sheets at the pet name; the word hasn't even come directly from his mouth but it has you acting like it has. Your body goes loose, that familiar throbbing starting up again in your underwear. You cross your legs and duck underneath the covers to type your reply:

i'm in my bed. i wish you were here

And what do you wish I was doing?

You stare at the text for a moment, biting down hard on your lip and trying to think of exactly how to articulate your thoughts in the best way. You've never done this before, never said or typed dirty things to somebody else. You figure texting is as good a medium as any to finally practice.

i wish you were playing with my pussy

The throbbing gets worse as you type the words. You cross your legs a bit tighter when you hit send, already nervous about what he'll say back. He doesn't waste much time.

You like when I play with your pussy, don't you?

Your cheeks warm as you sink even further beneath your blankets, legs parting slowly. You reach down to pop the button on your jeans, slowly typing out a response with one hand:

yes

The zipper of your jeans is down within seconds, your right hand carefully slipping past the open material and sliding down to cup where you're aching over your underwear. Your phone vibrates again and you hear a small whimper slip past your lips.

And you liked having those big fingers deep in there huh?

yes. it felt so good.

So full, right baby?

You circle your clit slowly with your index finger, mouth popping open at his words. The memory of the way his fingers felt inside of you, the way they'd pushed and prodded you so deep...

really full.

I'll do it again real soon, angel. Promise.

You whimper again, still tracing your pussy through your panties. Your brow furrows when the next message comes in a few seconds later:

I gotta head back now but I'll call you later. Stay up for me, don't fall asleep.

You frown. Oh well, you've gotten off without him a few times so far, what's one more time? You watch as the bubble indicating he's typing again pops up.

And don't touch that pretty pussy until I tell you.

Your hand freezes and you feel your lips turn into a pout despite the fact that he can't even see you.

:(

XO

"Meanie." you murmur at your phone, taking your hand out of your pants and tilting your head back to stare at your ceiling. You look down at the message again and can't help but feel your lips upturn; he's going to call you later... maybe meanie is too strong a word.

--

You prepare a little too much for your late-night phone call with Joel.

You take a long bath, soothing and relaxing with some lit candles and quiet music, all the while returning to your previous mental state of pretending you don't have anything between your legs. You're just a barbie doll down there, you tell yourself dubiously, there's nothing to touch or feel. That wishful thinking doesn't last very long however when you find yourself re-reading Joel's texts and feeling your pussy begin to pulse again under the water.

After your bath you comb carefully through your hair, counting each stroke to pass the time. You apply more lotion to your skin than you could ever need and then change into a pair of pajamas, just some simple sleep shorts and a t-shirt. You wonder what Joel would think of your old nightdresses, the ones you used to wear when you were a kid, still folded away in your dresser but probably much shorter and more revealing now. You take a quick peek at an old yellow one, lacy and faded; it practically smells of innocence and the bright eyed Jesus loving girl you once were, and you find yourself feeling sad. You shut it away again.

By the time you're freshly bathed and in bed your parents have already said goodnight and are settled in their bedroom down the hall. All you can do is lay back against your pillows and wait for Joel to call.

Nine o'clock passes; you decide to read for a little bit.

Ten o'clock; no big deal, you turn on the TV and quietly watch the beginning of a movie.

Eleven o'clock; you're about halfway into the movie now, feeling sleepy but still checking your phone every few minutes.

Twelve o'clock; the movie ends but you don't pay much attention to the conclusion, staring anxiously at your phone and waiting for it to light up. But still nothing.

It's almost one when you finally begin to face the reality of the situation. He never gave you a specific time, just said he'd call later, but how much later did he mean? Maybe he's already home now, in bed and asleep. He's probably forgotten that he even said he'd call. You're not that important. You're just some kid.

Tears well in your eyes when you finally turn off your bedside lamp and shuffle further beneath the covers, still staring at your phone. Please call, you think pathetically to yourself, or even text. Just do something.

You fall asleep with your phone gripped tightly in your hand.

--

You wake up to a light buzzing sound and sensation, your eyes squeezing together in confusion. You open them blearily and find yourself facing your bedside clock; 2:23am. It takes a few seconds for you to register that the buzzing is coming from your phone, and when you look down at the screen and see the name Mr. Miller, your eyes go wide. You answer it immediately.

"Hello?" you whisper, burying yourself under the covers again and trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Hey, babygirl," he says softly on the other side, his southern drawl melting smoothly into your ear, "I wake you up?"

"Y-yeah," you mumble, still blinking your eyes and trying to get some alertness back, "Sorry, I know you told me not to fall asleep."

He chuckles and it's the most beautiful sound, charming and gentle, "That's okay, sweetheart. I got back much later than I thought I would, it's my fault," you hear him grunt a little bit, like he's settling onto his couch (or his bed?), "You stay up long waitin' for me?"

You bite your lip, "Um, maybe."

"Aw, baby, I'm sorry," he murmurs, "Poor thing, you must be so sleepy."

"M'not," you say, but your voice betrays you.

"Shh," he whispers, "You go back to sleep, we'll try this again tomorrow."

You try to sit up but you're still half asleep and the blankets are so warm and inviting, "No," you say quickly, "No, I wanna talk to you. I've been waiting."

You can hear the smile in his voice when he replies, "God, you're so fuckin' sweet," he inhales deeply, "What I wouldn't give to have you in my bed right now, angel... all curled up and comfy in my arms."

You smile, eyes closing again as you settle back into the blankets and listen to his voice, "I want that." you murmur.

"I know you do," his voice is so soft and soothing in your ear, almost like a lullaby, "You want so many things with me, don't you?"

"Mm hm," you agree softly, "All of it."

"All of it." he repeats thoughtfully.

The line goes quiet for a moment, both of you just listening to each other breathe evenly. You know you should say something else, try and wake yourself up, but the longer you lie there with the phone to your ear the more tired you seem to be getting.

"Did you touch your pussy, babygirl?" he finally asks, voice still barely a whisper.

Your heart stutters, "No," you reply just as quietly.

"Good girl."

You hum at his praise, melting further into your pillow. You listen as he breathes slowly on the other end. You're starting to drift off again, you can feel it.

"I've got an early start tomorrow," he says softly, "But how 'bout I call you around seven or so, before I leave?"

"Yes," you whisper, "Please."

He laughs quietly, "Okay, sweetheart, you go back to sleep now," he exhales and seems to settle into his bed, just like you, "Sweet dreams."

"'Night," you mumble softly, leaving him to end the call as you fade quickly back to sleep.

--

You don't make the same mistake you made last night; you wake up promptly at six thirty and make sure you stay awake, washing your face and getting dressed for the day. You hear the shower going in your parents room and hope that miraculously both of them will have already left by the time Joel calls you.

No such luck. You can hear them both bustling around in the kitchen when your phone starts to buzz, and you quietly tiptoe back to bed and yank the covers up over yourself, hoping it'll muffle your conversation.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Mornin'", Joel replies; you can hear a smile in his voice, "Why are you whisperin'?"

You grimace, "My parents are still here."

"Ahh, the same parents who think I'm your guitar teacher, right?"

You bring a hand up to your face in embarrassment, "Oh my god, I forgot I told you that."

He chuckles, "So we're sneakin' around, huh? That what's happenin'? Is this gonna end with me gettin' shot?"

Your eyes widen, "I hope not!"

He laughs again, louder this time, "I'm kiddin', babygirl, don't worry. But you're an adult, you don't need their permission to see me."

"I know that, but as long as I'm under their roof they have rules, and I gotta follow them. Plus..." you make a face, "My mom doesn't like you."

He snorts, "Yeah, I figured."

"I kind of told her that um... that I'm... well..."

"What?"

"That I'm teaching you about God," you close your eyes, feeling your skin burn, "That you borrowed my hymn book and you're gonna help me learn how to play some of them."

There's complete silence on the line after you speak and for a moment you're scared he's hung up. You pull the phone away from your ear and look down at the screen; the call is still active. You bring it back up and he finally says something.

"Jesus, you're naughty," he mutters, voice suddenly dark, rough, "Lyin' about all that, just to see me?"

You swallow, "Y-yeah."

"Naughty," he repeats, "Naughty girl."

Another beat of silence. Then-

"Are you in bed?"

"Yes."

"Take off your panties."

You don't need telling twice, you're already throbbing just from hearing his voice change. You hold your phone against your ear with your shoulder and make quick work of hiking up your dress and tugging your panties down your legs.

"They're off," you whisper, voice shaky.

"Rub your clit," he says immediately, and you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt jangling on the other end, "'Til your pussy's all wet."

Is he...? He must be. You swallow tightly and do as he says, trying to focus on the task at hand and not on the fact that he's most certainly touching his cock right now while he talks to you. Getting wet isn't much of a challenge; as soon as your finger touches your clit you can already feel yourself start to drip.

"I'm wet." you whimper, rubbing your clit slowly.

"Already?" his voice is almost pained.

"Is it...is it weird that I get wet so easily?"

"No," he says immediately and you can almost visualize him shaking his head, "No, it's good. It's just 'cause you're so new to all of it," he groans, low and husky, "Fuck, I can't get enough of you."

You whimper again at his words, rubbing yourself a bit quicker and biting down on your lip. You can still hear the dull sounds of your parents from the kitchen below; you have to be quiet.

"Put a finger inside," Joel murmurs on the other end of the line, rough and scratchy, "Deep as you can go."

You bite down on your lip harder as you carefully push your index finger inside yourself, brow furrowing at the sensation. It's certainly nothing like having Joel's fingers in there and you immediately want to add another one, get that full feeling back.

"Push it in and out," he continues, "With me now, in..." you hear a dull slap, "And out," you follow along, eyes becoming hooded as you listen to what is most certainly Joel jacking himself off, "In....and out..."

He's pretending he's inside you. The thought alone is enough to make you moan, and you have to bring your other hand up to cover your mouth as you fuck yourself along to his pace. You add a second without being asked, whimpering pitifully into the phone and spreading your legs wider.

"Oh, babygirl," he whispers, "Those sounds you make..." he groans, low and deep, "Two fingers now, sweetheart."

"I'm already using two," you admit, still pumping them in and out; he groans again, even louder.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, "Three then, baby. Add your third, that's it." You hear another slap of skin and the sound is enough to make your orgasm begin to build in your belly. You wish he was here with you, holding you, touching you.

"I wish you were inside me," you find yourself whispering, voice shaky and pathetic.

He groans again, "Which part of me, sweetheart? My fingers?"

You shake your head, "No."

"Say it."

"Your cock," you whimper, chest heaving as you feel yourself getting closer and closer, "I want your cock inside me."

"Fuck," his voice is even deeper in your ear, almost like he's right there next to you, "I know you do, angel. Want it so fucking deep, don't you?"

You nod ferociously despite the fact that he can't see you, plunging your three fingers in and out steadily and feeling your legs begin to shake, "Yes, Mr. Miller," you whimper, "I need it."

"You do need it," he groans, "You need this cock, babygirl. Can't believe you never had one before, can't stop thinkin' about it," the slapping is getting faster, louder.

"I wanted it so bad last night," you keen, eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure, "And when you didn't call, I thought maybe-"

"Oh, babygirl," he groans, "Don't think like that, don't ever-" he lets out a deep grunt, almost like a whimper, "Don't think for one second that I don't think about you, about that pussy. Can't wait to be inside you. Gonna fuck you so good, so right," he grunts, his voice becoming more and more strained, "Gonna be so deep inside that sweet little hole, you're gonna feel it in your fuckin' stomach."

Holy fuck. He's never talked this much before, never said things this filthy or graphic. It's too much for you to handle all at once, pussy tightening around your fingers as his words bring you over the edge.

"I'm coming," you manage to squeak out, then slap your hand back down on your mouth as you shake and writhe under the blankets, moaning pitifully into your hand and praying your parents don't hear you.

Joel doesn't tell you he's coming but the slapping sound suddenly comes to a complete stop, and the next thing you know he's groaning loudly in your ear, breathy and rough. You listen to him, closing your eyes and letting his sounds invade your whole body as you come, wrapping around you like another warm blanket. You've never heard him make sounds like this, depraved and guttural and loud. You can only imagine what he looks like right now, what his cock looks like. You know what happens when men come, you know about ejaculation, but the thought of Joel doing that... right now...

"Mmmhmmm," you moan into your hand and feel your eyes roll back, picturing Joel laying in his bed, hand around his cock, "Oh...fuck..." you fuck yourself with your fingers until it's too much, until the sensations are borderline painful. You move your hand away from your pussy and squeeze down on your thigh, trying to get your legs to stop shaking.

There's a few moments of heavy breathing where neither of you speak, both of you coming down from your orgasms and trying to catch your breaths. You open your legs wider and lay there like a starfish, eyes closed, chest heaving. You hear the door slam downstairs, followed by the sound of your father getting in his police car and your mother getting in her SUV.

"My parents just left." you mutter, still breathless.

Joel chuckles softly, "Think they heard you?"

You shake your head, "No way, they'd have already broken down my door if they had any idea what's going on up here."

He laughs again, "Hold on a sec, let me clean myself up here a bit."

You can't help but smile at the image of Joel being vulnerable like that, having to clean up his own mess instead of yours. You shiver at the thought and slowly sit up in bed, body heavy and sated.

"That was... a lot," you say softly, still trying to even out your breaths, "All that... that stuff you said."

You hear the concern in his voice immediately, "Was it too much?"

"No," you say immediately, shaking your head, "No, not at all. I just..." you feel your cheeks burn, "I wasn't expecting....I didn't realize how much you thought about doing that."

"Doin' what?" you can almost hear his smirk.

"...Fucking me," you whisper it, even though your parents are gone, "Putting your...putting your cock in me."

He groans again, softer this time, "I'll be honest, darlin'. It was all I thought about yesterday at work. And it's all I'm gonna be thinkin' about today."

You shiver, lips turning up in a pleased smile, "Really?"

"Really, sweetheart. And I know we're takin' it slow, and that's okay, but fuck if I don't think about how that pussy's gonna feel around me..." he groans again and you feel the undeniable sensation of yourself getting wet again; insatiable.

"What if...what if it doesn't fit?" you ask quietly, unsure just like yesterday, "I know you said we'll make it fit but..."

"It'll fit," he reassures you tenderly, "Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll go real slow, I'll be real gentle, and you just take it," he takes a breath, slow and steady, "You were made to take it, babygirl."

You hear yourself whimper softly, closing your eyes and turning your head into your pillow. God, you could listen to him talk to you like this for hours, just telling you everything he wants to do to you, everything he wants to teach you...

"When can I see you again?" you whisper.

"Well, that's what we need to figure out now, isn't it?" you can hear the hint of a smile in his voice, "When are these guitar lessons gonna take place?"

You wince, sitting up a bit in bed and leaning back against your pillows, "So you're okay with that? With me lying, I mean?"

"If that's what you feel you need to do, then it's okay," he says, and you can tell he means it, "I will probably have to actually teach you some guitar, though."

"I don't mind," you reply with a smile, remembering the way his hands had felt on yours when he'd first shown you those chords, the way you'd settled between his legs and he'd held you so close to him, "...As long as you teach me in your bed."

"Fuck," he murmurs, voice going dark again, "You are a naughty girl, aren't you?"

You can't help but smirk, "It's starting to seem that way, yeah."

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart (Chapter 15) Human!Alastor x Married!Reader)

Chapter Trigger Warnings: Rape

Prev Masterlist AO3 KoFi

The high pitch whistle of air passing between Laurence’s lips cut through the air, ripping through what little peace you could cling to. He always whistled while dressing, especially after having taken his pleasure from you. It didn’t matter that you lay trying to will your heart to stop beating in your chest as wetness trickled down your thigh.

That wasn’t different in the slightest, but this morning, things were different. You were sobbing, for one. Though you tried to stifle the sound, bunching blankets up to shove against your mouth as you lay crumpled on the bed with your legs tucked against your chest. 

This morning, you had fought him. Why, you couldn’t say. Though, as his wife, you had no right to deny him your body, you had told him ‘no’. That meant nothing to him. It meant nothing to him when you screamed or when you pushed at him as his much larger body enveloped you. It meant nothing to him as you clawed at his chest.

For Laurence’s part, he was sure that today was going to be a good day. He had plans, big ones for the day. He had woken up hard, eager to fuck the day and looking over at you, he found you making the loveliest sounds in your sleep. Little whimpers that sounded so much like the sounds Emma would make as he kissed her neck passed through your lips as your eyes moved under your eyelids.

It was only right for him to start his day buried inside his wife’s cunt, Laurence decided in that moment. With you asleep and making those sweet noises, surely you were dreaming about him, about your want for him. Laurence knew he would push your nightgown up and find you welcoming to him without the pressure of society’s propriety you seemed to exist living by. 

You woke with a start as he slotted his. Burning pain ripped through you as he pushed inside, hips jerking into you. Each brutal thrust forced himself deeper, ripping open your core. 

A scream tore from your chest as he forced himself deeper, not relenting at the resistance your body put up. The sound wasn’t long lived as Laurence’s hand clamped down over your mouth. He glowered down at you, bright blond hair lit up by the morning sun. He had to hold his hand over your face as he fucked you, sealing the breath in your lungs and stifling your screams as you clawed at him.

He had almost lost track of time as he fucked into you while your struggles grew weaker, but he caught himself just in time. The moment his hand lifted from your face, letting you breathe, you gasped in a breath and forced it to not leave you in another scream. 

“Honey?” Laurence went to your side, running his hand up and down your bruised arm softly, as if he could wipe away the lingering marks his hands had left like they were little more than marks on a chalkboard.

 He’d been so good to you lately, so distracted- the marks were mostly green and yellow, healing with the passage of time as spring took root. It’s a shame you had to take all that kindness and patience he gave you and turn around and fight him over your wifely duties. 

“You’re overreacting.” He said softly, as if your tears were over nothing more than a broken earring. 

“I’m sorry, Laurence.” You whispered the words, trying to hold your breath to control the flow of your tears. All it did was remind you of how it felt to have his hand over your mouth and nose, lungs fighting for small gasps of air as you struggled under him. 

“You need to stop fighting it,” Laurence ran his hand over your hair, smoothing it down as he sat on the edge of the bed. The way he spoke reminded you of a parent lecturing their child about the need to take medicine. “You’re my wife. It’s your job to see to my needs. All of them.” 

“I know,” you whimper, forcing yourself to submit to his touch. It had been harder and harder to allow him to couch you, as you’d spent more time with Alastor. It wasn’t right, you knew that. Laurence was right. It was your duty to allow him to touch you.

You needed to do better so that he wouldn’t hurt you. 

“Honey, I’m not going to be home tonight. That’s why I had to have you so bad. I’ve gotta leave town for a meeting. It’s a big deal and we’ll be set for the year if I close it. Get you that clothes washer you wanted. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Laurence.” Your throat was so dry, it felt like you were speaking through sand. 

“I’ll be home tomorrow for dinner, alright?” He leaned down and kissed your temple. The trembling in your body froze at the contact. It wasn’t comfort that stilled you. 

“Alright.” You whispered, feeling muscles cramp as your body struggled to remain still. It didn’t matter that he had already had you, that he had already hurt you. 

Alastor sat in the cafe, cup of strong coffee in hand as his eyes skimmed over the newspaper. Bright lights lit up the shiny polished tile. It was a far cry from the warm and comfortable cafe he had spent much of his childhood in but it was the world he had fought tooth and nail to step into. 

That didn’t stop him from fighting to maintain the smile on his face. The morning had been less than ideal, with a board on the porch snapping under foot on his way out the door. It wouldn’t be a difficult repair, but he wasn’t looking forward to it either. 

The fact that his latest body was on the third page and some other half bit sloppy killer was on the front page had him in a sour mood. It wasn’t the first time this other person had stolen his spotlight, but at least this time they were reporting on the bodies as the acts of two separate killers. 

Alastor had been expecting to start his morning off with an early call from Laurence and been right. Now he was stuck waiting for the one man he cared to see least in the moment to join him. 

The individual stealing his spotlight could have at least made themselves useful and taken out Laurence for him. Then Alastor wouldn’t have to sit and spend his morning waiting for the fool to show up.

He glanced up at the sound of someone approaching his table to see it was just the man he was waiting for. Alastor set his paper down, article on the latest body found front and center, proclaiming to the world that they were no closer to catching the person responsible, as he stood. 

“Laurence, a pleasure to see you again,” Alastor lied, holding his hand out. As was expected, his business associate clasped his hand and shook. Today, Alastor resisted the urge to crush the lesser man’s hand again, but the temptation had nearly won out.

“Likewise, Alastor.” The other man spoke through gritted teeth, “Shall we get down to it?” 

Alastor motioned for the other man to take a seat across the table from him. He didn’t return to his seat until Laurence did so, taking the moment to tower over the blond man, to remind him of his place. Laurence was to be looked down upon. He was below Alastor. 

“I’ve got your payment.” Laurence pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and slid it across the table. 

Alastor eyed it for a moment, letting it sit where Laurence left it. He took a long drink from his coffee before finally setting the mug down as he picked up the envelope. He didn’t bother being discreet. Rather, he made a show of counting the bills inside, ensuring the agreed upon payment was there in full. 

“I’m glad to know you managed to make the payment,” Alastor said, slipping the envelope into his pocket jacket pocket, “Considering your firm lost the station contract.” 

“Just a minor speed bump,” Laurence assured him, though Alastor could see the way the other man’s jaw ticked, muscle jumping as he clenched his teeth. 

“Of course.” Alastor’s smile pulled wider across his face. 

The phone rang mid morning, startling you out of your thoughts as you scrubbed the bathroom tiles. You hesitated for a second as you walked by Laurence’s office door. There was a phone receiver in there, but you were not allowed to enter his office. 

With a shake of your head, you made your way downstairs and picked up the receiver in the hall. There was no reason to dwell on how much more convenient it would be to be able to answer from that phone. 

“Hello?” Silence stretched on as you waited a few moments before repeating the word.

“It’s me,” Alastor’s voice filled your ear as he spoke softly, “Is he home?” 

“No,” You found yourself leaning against the wall, mindful to keep the pressure off your still healing ribs as found butterflies fluttering around your stomach. Your heart was giddy at the sound of his voice. “I’m alone.”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Alastor asked, no longer whispering. Static crackled over the line, fading in and out, but that didn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. 

“Tomorrow by dinner.” You felt scandalous to be telling an unattached man such a thing, but he was safe. Alastor wouldn’t hurt you. It was safe to confide in him. It was safe to talk to him. 

Perhaps that’s part of the problem, a voice in the back of your head whispered, but you ignored it. The last thing in the world you wanted at the moment was to listen to the vile logic of that voice. 

This was the only thing you had for yourself in your life and you were determined to cling to it, cling to him as long as you could. It was innocent, anyway. Society wouldn’t understand your friendship, but that didn’t make it anything more than it was.

“So you’ll be home, all alone, all night long?” Alastor’s voice purred across the line, the same tone you were sure he used to catch the attention of any woman who caught his eye. 

You feigned a mock gasp before giggling, “Alastor! What are you implying?” 

Alastor’s suave purr melted into a warm laugh that soothed away the aches in your joints. “That you may need to come out with me. I know a joint, good music, good drinks, good dancing. What do you say?”

“Somewhere that you know? Would it be safe?” You chewed on your lip as you listened to his chuckle. 

“Do you trust me?” He teased. “If you do, meet me in our alley.” He asked, and you trusted him. With hardly a doubt, you did. 

You wore your best dress, not that it was up to style. The deep green color and glittering beads contrasted with the vibrant red of the cloak you secured around your shoulders. The sun was setting, lighting up your home with the warm golden glow that was unique to mornings and evenings as you applied your lipstick.

If you didn’t hurry, it would be dark before you got to the alley. The cover of darkness would be useful in hiding your identity but brought its own dangers, dangers you were not sure you were brave enough to face alone. 

One last look in the mirror brought a smile to your face. Most of the bruises were hidden, covered by powders, creams or bangles. If you kept the cloak on, no one would see the fading bruises on your arm. If Al was taking you somewhere with drinks, dancing and music, you wouldn’t be able to get away with not shedding it. No one would care to notice them, even if it was bright enough inside to see them though, if music was playing, drink flowing and lights dim. 

Never in your life had you wanted to look as nice as you did tonight for him. Even as you were primped and polished for your wedding day, you hadn’t been too concerned with your appearance. 

It was better that you didn’t think about it too carefully. It was better that you didn’t consider what it could mean. You deserved a night out. You deserved to have a friend. There was nothing wrong with what you were doing. 

But… you hoped he would find you pretty. 

“Mimzy?” Alastor called into the dimly lit lounge. It was early, and she was far from opening, but he had a key. She was prone to losing hers, misplacing it for days at a time, and he would have to come to her rescue. 

“Al?” Her voice came from the back. “What ya doing here so early?” 

“I’ve got a favor to ask you,” he was shouting across the lounge, knowing there wasn’t anyone to overhear them. 

“What ya need?” She called back, glancing over her shoulder as he drew closer to where she was unpacking crates of liquor into a box hidden under the floorboards. She had a few spots to stash excess supply, had to be sure she could open right back up if she got busted. 

Women didn’t get thrown in jail for running shows like this. Whatever lad she currently had on her arm this season would take the fall, as they always did, and she would get off by batting her pretty blue eyes and acting like she knew nothing. 

“Use of the side storeroom for the night?” Alastor took a few bottles out of the crate and passed them into the box Mimzy was stuffing. 

“That room is full of boxes and crap,” Mimzy only glanced up at him as he put another bottle down into the straw filled box. 

“We can move all that. I’ll help.” 

“Why that space?” Mimzy stood up, dusting her hands off while he closed the box and began replacing the boards. 

“It’s just got a curtain,” Alastor slipped one board into place and then the other before picking up the crate and carrying it to the next hiding place. “We’ll be able to hear the band better, see them a little too.” 

“What are you planning?” Mimzy rested a fist on her cocked hip. 

“I’m going to bring her here tonight,” Alastor said as if it was nothing. “He’s going to be gone until tomorrow, and left her behind. Can you believe that?” 

“What I can’t believe is that you’re wanting to do something like this for your latest little hobby.” Mimzy rolled her eyes, but the sass did nothing to wipe the smile from her face.

“She’s just lonely, needs a friend.” Alastor rolled his eyes back at Mimzy as she started pulling up the next set of boards. “You didn’t see the way he left her- all over some flowers.”

“You gave a married woman flowers, knowing how Laurence is, and were surprised how it turned out?” Mimzy looked up at him from where she knelt, eyebrow raised, “Men like that are mean at best.” 

“That it turned out as badly as it did for her? Yes.” Alastor gave Mimzy a pointed look, “Didn’t you say I needed more friends, more company and to be less isolated? I’m only doing what you told me to do.”

“But carrying on with a married woman wasn’t what I meant.”

“And when did you become the paragon of propriety?” Alastor let out a breath, sending a chunk of hair that had fallen into his face off to the side. 

“Alastor, don’t be like that.” Mimzy huffed, “You know I don’t give a shit if someone’s married or not. I’m not above spending an evening with a married man. But I worry about you, that’s all.” 

“You needn’t worry about me, my dear.” Alastor patted Mimzy on the top of her head, ignoring the scowl etched across her face. 

“Of course you can use the room.” She answered, an exasperated sigh paired with the relaxing of her furrowed brows. 

With the added pair of hands, they could unpack the crates much faster than Mimzy would have alone. That worked out just fine for Alastor, leaving him plenty of time ahead of opening to get the small side room emptied. For that task, he didn’t have the benefit of an additional set of hands, though he had expected as much.

Mimzy watched, drink in hand, as Alastor moved boxes and crates, stacking them in different side rooms. There wasn’t much order to where he put things. Much of the boxes and crates held things that belonged to the landlord or things she was storing for this person or that. 

Her speakeasy had not always functioned as a bar and lounge, but she improvised with what she had. With the nature of her business, it wasn’t really in per power to demand an empty space from the landlord. Storing other people’s junk earned her a few extra pennies a month, too. 

“You sure about this?” Mimzy called as he walked a small table into the enclave behind the curtain. 

“I’ve got it under control, Mimzy. I’m just having some fun before I end Laurence.” Alastor called, “Start bein on the watch for a new supplier.”

“And how you going to do that?” She watched as he made his way back for two chairs.

“I’ll see him into bankruptcy. He’ll be so shamed he has no choice but to divorce his pretty little wife and then I’ll take her from him too.” 

“You think that’s how that works?” Mimzy laughs. “Men don’t just let go of their wives when they go broke, Al.” 

“He won’t be able to provide for her,” Alastor walked by, glasses, tablecloth and a candle in his hand while Mimzy’s eyebrow rose. “I’ll buy him off and poof. I’ve got a romantic cover so people can stop yapping.” 

“And that requires a date in my side room?”

You looked both ways before tugging the red bowl hat down just a little more before you turned into the alleyway. Your alleyway. Your place, as Alastor had called it. It wasn’t safe for a woman to just walk in an alleyway. To steal moments of time with Alastor, it was worth it to take these little risks, though. It was more and more worth it as you spent more time with him. Peeking in, you saw the dark mass that you hoped was his car. 

“Hey,” Alastor’s warm voice came softly from just under the cover of the shadows, far closer to the mouth of the alley than you had expected. “I wanted to make sure you made it to the car alright.”

His hand, covered with a dark gray leather glove, reached out from the darkness, inviting you in. Each moment that passed drew the darkness tighter around you while the sun sank lower below the horizon line. You looked both ways, finding no one paying you any mind at all as they scurried home to their dinner. With one last deep breath, you let Alastor take your hand and pull you into the darkness with him. 

“Good Evening,” you whispered. 

“I’m glad you made it safe,” Alastor’s voice was soft. He leaned into you as he tucked your hand around his arm, confidently leading you through the near total shadows. “Forgive me for not picking you up directly, as a gentleman should.” 

“It wouldn’t have been proper, it would have looked-” you tripped in the darkness but the hard ground never came. Alastor’s arm reached out, catching you and holding you against his side, mindful of your still healing broken ribs. 

“Be careful,” he said, “And it would have looked like exactly what it is.” 

What did he mean by that? 

Alastor parked his car behind a large brick building. Technically, it was the side, but the back door was where everyone else would go in. The side door function as the back door to Mimzy’s joint, Alastor had explained. The front door was boarded closed, not having been used in as long as he had known her. 

You stepped out of the car after looking for anyone that could see and may recognize you and tell the world of your sins. Darkness fell, night chasing away twilight as Alastor drove you to the heart of the city. It always amazed you how quickly the day could give up its grasp to night. 

Alastor wasted no time tucking you into his arm, hiding you against his towering frame as he shut the door behind you. His presence was a rock you clung to through the rushing waves of fear and guilt. Again and again, as you allowed him to wrap you in his arm the way a lover would, you tried to tell yourself that this was just friendship. 

You were doing nothing wrong. 

Tucked against him, you walked with him to the door that looked clearly unused in the dark. Light from the street lamps, recently switched to electric as so many things were now, reflected off the dull metal that was full of dents and scratches. There were warning bells screaming in your mind, telling you that you had let yourself get talked into a dangerous situation. 

How well did you really know him?

There was a serial killer on the run. While they usually took men, it wasn’t unheard of for a woman’s body to be found, chunks of flesh or whole limbs missing. You tried to focus on the warmth of him, the arm holding you nestled against his side as the door opened to darkness. 

Alastor was safe. He wouldn’t hurt you. Your mind was just running away with you. It was just the guilt. Alastor had done nothing to make you fear him. There wasn’t anything wrong. He had been a perfect gentleman. You convinced yourself that you were worrying about nothing. 

Alastor flicked a switch just inside the door, and electricity buzzed to life. Overhead, a few lightbulbs flickered before building brightness but most came to life instantly. It didn’t light the space particularly well, but it allowed you to see. 

“What is this place?” You asked, stepping closer to Alastor, taking shelter in his side. Your fingers wrapped around his jacket, letting the feeling of the rough wool ground you. 

Alastor chuckled, letting his arm trail from around your shoulders. His palm ran across your shoulders and his fingers trailed down your arm before he let his fingers just hook into the palm of your hand as he stepped away.

The thunder of your pulse in your ears was deafening as you looked up at him questioningly. Was he really doing what you had thought he was trying to do? Holding hands was something young courting couples did, not the male friend of a married woman. 

But sneaking out into the night with their male friend behind their husband’s back also wasn’t what married women did. 

You let his fingers slip into your palm, wrapping your fingers around his hand as his smile brightened a little more. He said nothing of your acceptance of him, but it was written clearly on his face. 

You loved him, you realized, and whatever you were doing with him was far from innocent. But that was alright, you told yourself, as long as it stayed just like this. As long as it stayed your little secret, was it really any worse than the wives whose heads lived in clouds formed by romance novels hidden behind their cook books?

He pulled you through the sea of boxes, dust swirling around him as he lead the way, reflecting the dim light in a sea of sparkles. It made him look warm and inviting, a sin you told yourself it was alright to just get a taste of.

“It is just through the storeroom,” Alastor said as he pulled you along, unaware of the vision he was in your eyes or the warring realizations in your head and heart. “I didn’t want anyone to see us, so I set up a surprise.”

No, this wasn’t right. You needed to stop whatever it was you were doing with him. It was going to lead you to damnation, to ruin. And you would, you decided as he looked forward again, letting you shamelessly take in the way his fluffy hair moved with him. 

You would put a stop to this but, what harm could come from just one more evening with him? You were already there, hand in his and music building as he led you through the sea of boxes. 

What’s one more evening?

Next?

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[vivalas-vega]

sunshine / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

heyooo !!! the fic I've been teasing for the past few days is finally here ! I don't know that I'm fully happy with it but I've invested a minimum of 25 hours into this and I had to metaphorically put the pen down at some point. I hope you enjoy, as always please please please let me know what you think!

sunshine / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

add yourself to my taglist

feel free to buy me a kofi if you like my work!

based on this request! here is your fic @gryffindormarveltwilight :)

word count: 14k (estimated read time: 60 minutes)

warnings: language, drinking, some suggestive humor, brief rooster x reader/allusions to rooster x reader, navy inaccuracies, terrible descriptions of flying a fighter jet pls forgive me

Sitting in your superiors' stuffy office underneath dim fluorescent lighting the only thing you could think of was that your best friend was right. A point that you didn’t want to admit to anyone, let alone her… but that was also a lie, the biggest thought dominating your headspace was her brother. Jacob Seresin. She’d told you a thousand times over to get ahead of it, that you couldn’t keep this secret forever and to just come clean to him and your family but you’d dug your heels in, insisted this was the right way to go about things, and god did you hate eating your words. She was fucking right. 

You were reminded of Thanksgiving two years ago, one of the events in a long list of near-misses where your secret almost came to light.

“Sunshine, your phone keeps ringing, do you want me to get it?” Jake asked from across the couch. You were fully immersed in your novel with your legs stretched out and resting against his, you hadn’t even noticed your phone… or anything else for that matter outside of the world you were holding in your palms.

“Just silence it,” you said as you flipped the page.

“Wait a minute,” he said and the shift in his tone pulled your attention to him. He was staring at your phone screen in shock… or was that confusion? “How the fuck do you know Rooster?” he asked and your blood ran cold.

“What?” you asked and he flipped the screen around to reveal Rooster’s contact photo. You thanked your previous self for cropping yourself out of it because this was going to be hard enough to explain without the addition of you in your khakis. “Oh,” you chuckled, hoping to just brush it off entirely as you sat up. “You know, I kind of forgot he was a pilot, too. I met him a few months ago when I went to San Diego for that convention.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me you happened to meet another naval aviator?”

You shrugged, “I didn’t think you knew him.” You knew he did. “We met in a bar and hit it off, we’ve kept in contact since.” 

“Are you like… a thing?” he asked, disgust evident in his tone. 

You laughed, “no, you know… it is possible to meet someone in a bar and not immediately jump their bones.” you said, trying to deflect this conversation in its entirety. 

“Nope, you’re not flipping this around on me.” Damn it. “I find it awfully suspicious this is the first I’m hearing of Rooster… by accident no less.”

You sighed, “fine, you caught me. I’m secretly a naval aviator too and Rooster was my wingman on a mission in Eastern Europe,” you said, and you didn’t try to sound innocent or sarcastic, just the right amount of indifference for him to not believe you.

He chuckled, “yeah of course you are, and I’m not an aviator, I’m actually a fucking astronaut.”  He added an eye roll for dramatic effect. “At least make your lies believable, sunshine, you know you’d never even make it to basic because I’d have killed you before then.”

You let out a laugh but there was no humor in it, “you’re right… me being in the Navy is definitely far fetched.”

“Top Gun, sir?” you questioned, trying to focus your thoughts on the present and he nodded… not even fully looking at you as he sorted through paperwork on his desk.

“Despite your insistence on keeping your achievements quiet, you’ve caught the attention of a lot of people. Mission is need to know, and apparently I don’t make the cut,” there was a bitter taste on his tongue as he spoke the words. “All I know is the best of the best from every aviation squad are headed west.”

“Yes, sir. When do I leave?” 

“You’re on a plane in six hours. Go home, pack, get your affairs in order. You report for duty at 08:00 tomorrow.”  Six hours. 

“They think I’m a research assistant to a fucking archeologist, Sadie! I mean, how stupid could I possibly be!” Your voice was shrill as you shouted in the general vicinity of your phone perched atop your dresser as you threw things into a duffel bag. You weren’t even concerned with what you were packing, you were more concerned with the fact that the single thread holding your intricate web of lies together was unraveling right in front of you. “You were right the other day when you said he already knows, he just… doesn’t know it’s me. I’ve heard of the infamous Hangman, there’s no way he hasn’t heard of Viper.”

“Just take a deep breath, I mean… I won’t say I told you so, even though I totally told you so.” Good thing she won’t gloat. “What’s the worst that can happen? He’ll be shocked, he might yell at you, he might rat you out to our parents but, maybe that’s for the best.”

“Maybe it’s for the best that everyone finds out I’ve been lying to them about what I do for a living for eight years?” you nearly shrieked as you rooted through your drawers for your one good swimsuit.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to stop taking online archeology courses on the off chance people ask you for specifics? Which… no one ever has because you picked a boring fake job to have, or wouldn’t it be nice to actually be able to tell your parents about your job, your achievements? Did I tell you that Jake actually mentioned Viper to me? Said something about some elusive hotshot pilot very few people have ever actually seen but their exploits have been heard everywhere.”

“Sadie, I called you because you’re supposed to be helping,” you groaned.

“Am I not?” she asked, genuinely sounding innocent and you just glared at the phone… and though she couldn’t see it, she definitely felt it all the way back home in Texas. “You know, you never actually told me how you got Viper as a call sign-”

 “You know what, I have to go.” you said abruptly, cutting her off.

“What are you-” you didn’t bother listening to the rest of the sentence as you hung up and quickly dialed a number you hadn’t in months.

“Hey sunshine,” Jake’s voice rang throughout your room and normally the pet name bestowed on you from a very young age, meant to be ironic considering you’ve never had a sunny disposition, would have been comforting but now it just made you feel sick. “What are you up to?”

“Hey you,” you breathed out. “I just got off the phone with Sadie and I figured I’d give my favorite Seresin a call,” you joked and his laughter on the other end did nothing to ease your nausea. 

“I’ll be sure to tell her you said so. Where are you calling from this time?” he asked and you thought there might be a winch in your chest, each sound from his end of the phone cranking it tighter and tighter.

“Uh, I’m actually stateside for a bit… lab work,” you lied. “What about you, jetsetter? Where’s the Navy got you now?” You were fishing.

“Also stateside, at least for now. Your timing is actually impeccable, I’m packing for a last-minute detachment and you were always better at that than me.” He was referencing all the times you’d wander up into his room just minutes before leaving for one of your shared family vacations, finding him standing in front of his closet with a blank look on his face and an empty suitcase on the bed, leaving you to do it all for him.

You chuckled nervously, “after all this time you still can’t pack a bag without my input?”

“Well, you’ve never forced me to figure it out for myself and the times I’ve had to go without I ended up with all the wrong things.”

“I’m pretty sure this is weaponized incompetence. Where are you headed?” You already knew the answer, but there was a small flicker of hope burning within you. 

“San Diego, all I know is I’ve been recalled to Top Gun.” he answered and you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

“Well,” you started, clearing your throat, “definitely some shorts and t-shirts, maybe a few of those ridiculously tight short-sleeve button-ups you always insist on buying… but none of the bright colored ones, they’re awful.” you said and he laughed. “Throw in those green swim trunks if you plan on heckling any innocent women simply trying to enjoy some sun and surf.”

“Heckling innocent women, how do you know I’m not the one being heckled?”

You laughed, “because I know you, you’ve been a heartbreaker since age ten.”

“I prefer the term rolling stone,” he protested and you laughed again.

“I’m sure you do Mr. Rock n Roll but that is not the perception. Your mother worries.”

“Did she call you again?” he asked, voice going up an octave.

“Oh yes, she asked me if we crossed paths in Bosnia… because, of course we would have while I was in Bahrain, said I needed to talk some sense into you.”

“When were you in Bahrain?” he asked and you internally groaned. You’d said too much. But then again, as you looked at the clock it didn’t really matter how much you said. You could say hey Jake, by the way… I’ve been in the Navy all this time, I’ll see you soon! and it wouldn’t make a damn difference.

“Uh, you know… just a few months ago.”

“Huh, I almost went there a few months ago,” he said and you could hear the contemplation in his tone.

“Small world,” you said breathlessly. “Shoot, urgent text from the lab… I’ve gotta head in, call me when you get settled in San Diego?”

“I will, when this deployment is over I was actually going to try and get some leave… come visit you if you’re still stateside, if that’s alright?”

“Of course it is, I’ll talk to you later.” You fell backwards onto your bed with a huff as you disconnected the call, “son of a bitch.”

The red neon sign above the Hard Deck used to be a comforting image, a port in the storm, light illuminating a pathway towards a night of blowing off steam but right now it felt more like the flicker was mocking you, laughing as you prepared to walk through those doors and undo years of lying and manipulating those closest to you. You knew he’d be there. You were. There was nowhere else for aviators to go when arriving in town. Well… nowhere else aviators would go.

“Oh dear god,” you mumbled to yourself, keeping your head low as you waited for your beer. You saw Phoenix strutting across the bar with Fanboy and Payback in tow and the voice that rang out from the pool table made your blood run cold. Of course he was already here.

“What do we have here? If it ain’t Phoenix,” he said, fixing her with that famous smirk as he stood upright. “And here I thought we were special, Coyote. Turns out, the invite went to anyone.”

“Fellas, this here’s Bagman,” she introduced as you carefully approached, mindful of where you were positioning yourself as you started to slide back into your work persona.

“Hangman,” he corrected.

“Whatever.” she dismissed. “You’re looking at the one of only two naval aviators on active duty with confirmed air-to-air kills.”

“Stop,” he said, and you couldn’t help but chuckle and the faux-display of modesty. Always a showboater.

“Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean war.” she smirked, you’d been deployed with her a few times and you always found her ability to outpace the men refreshing and oh-so-needed in the Navy. 

“Cold war,” Coyote corrected.

“Different wars, same century.” Payback said.

“Not this one,” Fanboy added.

“Who are your friends?” Coyote asked, gesturing to the two of them as they introduced themselves. “And I’m assuming this other aviator with a confirmed air-to-air kill will be gracing us with his presence tonight?”

“Her presence,” Phoenix said, narrowing her eyes as she corrected his assumption. “Call sign’s Viper, if you two made the cut then she definitely did.” 

“Ah, Viper.” Jake chimed in and you felt your ears burn as you watched him from your spot behind a beam. The way your name fell from his lips in such a condescending way made your eyes narrow. “You know, I’ve heard an awful lot about this Viper but… I’ve never laid eyes on her. Pretty sure she’s just a myth, what do you think, Coyote?” he asked and his friend nodded his head.

“You just can’t stand that the person holding you in a draw is a woman.” Phoenix quipped and you couldn’t help but smile.

“No one’s holding me in anything, darlin’, but I can’t say I’m not excited to finally meet this elusive pilot… set the record straight on who’s number one.”

“Oh Jakey,” you tutted, finally emerging from your spot behind the beam as you approached the table and you ignored the way he was physically caught off guard, quickly standing from his perch on the pool table. “I wouldn’t hold your breath because it sure as shit ain’t you.” You looked him up and down once for good measure. “Bagman, and Hyena, was it? Names Viper, pleasure to meet you.” You held your hand out for Coyote with a smirk rivaling Jake’s. For all the fear you had about your secret coming to light you knew you had to come in strong, if you showed up with your tail between your legs like your old teenage self, scared of Hangman’s wrath you’d never get out from under it during training.

“So, you’re not a myth,” Coyote responded, shaking your hand but you weren’t looking at him… you were looking at Jake who’s eyes seemed like they were about to bug out of his head as they scanned you, clad in a matching khaki uniform. 

“No, but she is a legend,” Fanboy piped in and you chuckled at the reinforcements.

“Hey V, knew you’d turn up sooner or later,” she said as she pulled you in for a quick hug and you reached out to squeeze both Payback and Fanboy’s shoulders in greeting. “And who’s this?” Phoenix asked, not picking up on the tension rising between you and Jake as her eyes glanced at the man sitting in standard-issue glasses to your left.

“Who’s who?” Coyote asked, not noticing he was there at all. She looked directly at him as he brushed peanuts off his lap. “When did you get in?”

“Oh, I- I’ve been here the whole time.” he answered with a cute smile on his face and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his earnestness. 

“Man’s a stealth pilot,” Jake finally chipped in, seemingly recovering from your shocking arrival but his eyes still held a lot of questions you knew you’d be hearing later. 

“Literally.” Coyote added.

“Weapons Systems Officer, actually,” the man corrected.

“With no sense of humor,” Jake sighed and you narrowed your eyes at him as he passed the pool cue to Phoenix before he made his way to the bar and you took the opportunity to slip away and follow him.

“Penny, my dear,” he started, leaning against the bartop. “I’ll have four more on the old timer.” he said, eyes darting to Maverick and you knew he’d regret saying that later. Everyone else might have been alarmingly slow at connecting the dots but you knew his presence here wasn’t a coincidence. As far as you knew he was supposed to be in Arizona acting as a test pilot.

“Unprepared for an ambush?” you asked and he sighed, you watched as his bicep flexed when he gripped the edge of the bar.

“You could say that,” he replied dryly.

“Doesn’t sound like the Hangman I’ve heard of… always so prepared for everything,” you shot back and he turned to look at you, expression steeled.

“Well, deception sounds exactly like the Viper I’ve heard of.” You couldn’t be surprised, verbal volleyball with him was always your forte and this time he had genuine cause to be upset. “What the hell are you doing here?” There it was.

“Recalled, same as you.” you answered, as if it was really that simple.

“In the Navy,” he clarified. “You didn’t think to mention this when we were on the phone four hours ago? Or better yet, when you joined?”

“Thought this would be better face to face.”

“What, were you calling just to get information from me?”

“I like being prepared, wanted to know what I was walking into.” you replied, keeping your features calm as you looked up at him.

“And you couldn’t have prepared me for seeing my little sister’s best friend in front of all my colleagues?”

“Your colleagues? Thought I was a little more than that,” you responded, focusing your attention forward and subtly nodding to Maverick who was sitting across the bar in lieu of a proper greeting. “You’re a professional, Hangman, I think you handled it well.”

“Like how well you’ve handled lying to your entire family? How was that dig in Bahrain, by the way?”

“Needed to come up with something to account for all the traveling and lack of contact,” you answered, cutting through to the question beneath the question.

“And where do they think you’re off to now?” he asked as Penny set the beers in front of you. “You know, just in case I need to cover your ass.”

“Croatia. Called them before I called you and Sadie.”

“Sadie knows?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why the hell did you keep this from everyone?”

“Are you forgetting the chaos that ensued when you told everyone your plans after high school?” you asked. “Besides, I did tell you in no uncertain terms, you just turned it into a joke.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Thanksgiving a few years ago? When Rooster called?” you prompted and you watched his face fall. 

“Oh my god,” he muttered. 

“Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t believe me which is why I said it to get you off my back… and what you said about killing me before I even made it to basic just proves my reasoning was right to not tell anyone.”

“Wait, so Rooster really was your wingman on a mission?”

“Several.” you answered.

“I don’t understand, I first heard of Viper six years ago. How have we never crossed paths?”

“I asked to keep my accomplishments on the downlow, they thought it was modesty but really I didn’t want you finding out through a Navy newsletter. Truthfully, I don’t know how we haven’t been on detachments sooner, that was just dumb luck.”

“Dumb luck,” he scoffed, looking you over once more. “God dammit. I am happy to see you,” he finally conceded and you let out a laugh.

“Really? I’m not convinced,” you replied as he pulled you in for a tight hug.

“Meant what I said too,” he started, picking up two of the beers and nodding for you to grab the others. “I do intend on winning this tie between us.”

You laughed again, “good luck with that, bud.” you shot back as you walked back to the pool table. You were aware of the questioning eyes but you had no intention of filling anyone in at the moment.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe,”Jake said, swiping Bob’s pool cue as you gave Rooster a one-arm hug.

“Hangman, you look… good,” Rooster responded, apprehension clear in his voice and you shared a look with Phoenix.

“Well, I am good, Rooster.” he replied, lining up and taking his shot. “I’m very good, in fact, I am too good to be true.” You rolled your eyes as you watched Phoenix give Rooster an exasperated look.

“So,” Payback interjected, “anyone know what this special detachment is all about?”

“No, a mission’s a mission, that don’t confront me.” You watched in amusement as he made his way around the pool table, oozing arrogance. You’d heard the stories of the cocky pilot but seeing it before you, in stark contradiction to the Jake you grew up with, was jarring to say the least. “What I want to know: who’s gonna be team leader? And which one of y’all has what it takes to follow me?”

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.” Rooster replied and you watched Jake continue his path with an overwhelming urge to smack the smirk off of his face. If you wanted to, you knew you were the only person here who could get away with it.

“Well, anyone who follows you is just gonna run out of fuel.” Jake shot back, “But that’s just you ain’t it, Rooster? You’re snug on that perch waiting for just the right moment… that’s never gonna come.” He finished, stepping closer. “I love this song,” he added before walking away.

“Well, he hasn’t changed.” Phoenix sighed.

“Nope, sure hasn’t.” Rooster agreed and you chuckled.

“If only you knew how untrue that was,” you said, eyebrows raised as you looked after him, a man almost completely unrecognizable to you now. You were almost impressed that he was able to suppress this new side of himself when he went back home just as easily as you did.

“Thought you were in Bahrain,” Rooster commented and you spared him a quick glance.

“Thought you were in Japan,” you replied simply.

“Looks like your intel is outdated,” he said and you finally looked over to him with a smirk.

“Same goes for you.” You nudged his shoulder with yours, “good to see you, Roo.”

“Does anyone here have a normal relationship with one another?” Coyote asked, watching as Rooster disappeared and as you went to steal some of Bob’s peanuts. 

“This is like a dysfunctional summer camp reunion, Coyote. When have we all been in the same room at the same time?” Phoenix answered.

“Any thoughts as to how this is going to play out?” Jake asked, sidling up beside you as you ordered another beer and you didn’t even look in his direction as you watched Penny mix a drink for someone.

“Thought it was just a mission… none of the details confront you,” you responded and he didn’t miss the air of mockery in your tone.

“I meant between us,” he clarified and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Thought we were just colleagues.”

He shot you an unamused look, “are you really going to be like that?” he asked and you shrugged.

“Matching your energy, Hangman. Have to say, I was hoping the rumors were false.”

“Oh yeah? And what rumors are those, Viper?”

“The rumors that you’re an arrogant asshole. Imagine my surprise to find the Jake I know nowhere in sight.”

“Well, imagine my surprise to find out the girl who used to steal my sweatshirts and whine if I didn’t cut the crust off her sandwiches in the Navy with a reputation of being a calculated bitch.”

“I’m a woman in the Navy, what’s your excuse?” you fired back and he nodded his head appreciatively as if to say touche.

He sighed, “I just mean… we have history, how do you want to go about that?”

“Pretty sure everyone here has some form of history with each other, I don’t see why we need to go about it any particular way.” you shrugged and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Why do I get the feeling this is going to be a long detachment?”

“Probably because you’re right.”

“I just don’t understand why you can’t be a team player. You’re taking this whole Hangman thing too far,” you snapped from your side of the booth. “I’m sick of doing push ups because of you.”

“Ever considered it’s just because you’re the one that’s failing?” Jake asked with a smirk.

“No, it’s just because you’re a shitty wingman, always have been.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?”

You laughed dryly, “Christmas? Two years ago? You had one job, be a decent wingman. You can’t do it on the ground and you certainly can’t do it in the air.”

“Hold up. Christmas two years ago? What do you mean?” Phoenix asked, having

overheard your latest round of ripping into Jake as she was walking by and you let out a sigh.

“Bagman and I grew up together,” you finally came clean and you gave her an exasperated look as she did a terrible job at masking her shock.

“Wait, like grew up grew up together? As kids?”

“My best friend is his sister,” you explained as briefly as you could. “Well, that makes a hell of a lot more sense than my theory,” she said and you furrowed

your brows.

“What was your theory?” you and Jake asked at the same time.

“I thought you two had slept together on a deployment,” she shrugged and you blinked in surprise. You looked at Jake and waited for him to respond because you were at a loss for words at the implication.

“Your quickness to assume I’ve slept with every woman I’ve come into contact with is frankly insulting,” he said and you bit back a laugh.

“But not entirely untrue,” you muttered.

“Please tell me you have embarrassing stories about him,” Phoenix pleaded and you let out a full laugh now.

“Oh, I definitely do.”

“That will remain in the vault because unless you’re forgetting, I have stories too.” Jake chimed in and you rolled your eyes.

“Hold on, I’ve been deployed with both of you, and mentioned both of you to each other, how is this the first I’m hearing of this?” she asked and you noticed the way almost everyone was not subtly listening in.

“Our families didn’t have the warmest reaction to him joining the Navy, let alone to be a fighter pilot… so I just kept it to myself when I did. Jake didn’t know until last week,” you answered.

She shot him a weird look, “I always forget you have a real name… makes you too human,” she muttered before slipping away and you chuckled. 

“Cat’s outta the bag now,” he said, eyeing you over the rim of his glass as he took a drink and you didn’t miss the way his pupils dilated as Rooster came into his field of vision.

“Buy you a refill?” he asked you and you nodded, allowing him to pull you up and lead you to the bar. “So, you and Hangman have history?” You realized he must have only caught a piece of your previous conversation.

“Mmhm,” you confirmed, “Seems everyone has history with him, including you.” you said as the two of you sat down on the bar stools.

“Nothing beyond the obvious.”

“And what’s the obvious?” you asked and he smirked, sliding a fresh beer towards you.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said and you raised your eyebrows at him before he chuckled. “Thought it’d be good to catch up… haven’t heard from you since our last mission.”

“And whose fault is that?” you shot back, with Rooster it was always about what was unsaid. On the surface you weren’t even sure this would be considered a conversation, too much back and forth with not enough shared in each passing remark.

“You know how it is,” he shrugged and you nodded.

“How was Japan?”

“How was Bahrain?” You stared him down before cracking, a smile spreading across your face as you laughed.

“You know I can’t tell you.”

“You know I can keep a secret. Besides, what are friends for?”

“Oh, are we friends now?” you countered, amusement clear in your tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we weren’t.” he shot back.

“Our last communication was you sending me a photo of bird shit on your canopy with a series of emojis that I’m honestly still unsure the meaning of.”

“That’s peak friendship,” he laughed. “What is the story with you and Hangman and why was I not allowed to tell him we knew each other?”

“He’s my best friend’s brother,” you said and realization passed over his features. “He’s a little… protective, and I knew he wouldn’t respond well to me being in the Navy.”

“Ah, well that explains why he looks like he wants to kill me everytime I get close to you,” he said and you looked over your shoulder to find him glaring in your general direction and you let out a laugh.

“That’s just his face when it comes to you.”

“No, pretty sure it’s more than that,” he replied and you raised an eyebrow at him as if to say elaborate. He reached down to grab your stool and yanked you closer, forcing your legs to slide in between his and smirked as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear while you just looked at him with wide eyes. “I give it five minutes, tops.”

“Five minutes for what?” you asked, coming out a little more breathless than you were hoping for.

“The way he looks at you is far more intense than just being his sister’s best friend… I’m just testing my theory,” he said, voice low with how close the two of you were.

“And what do you think these test results will yield?”

“I think he’s going to stew over there for a moment,” he said leaning closer as he looked over your shoulder and nodded slightly, “just like he’s doing right now… and then when I make any sort of indication of taking this further he’s going to come pull you right out of this chair and drag you off.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed, deciding to lean into it if only for the fact that your life was so hectic you had no time for attention like this… even if it was for show, and you let your fingers absentmindedly drag along his forearm. “And how are you going to indicate taking this further?” you asked, your eyes almost daring him.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as his fingers trailed along your thigh.

You gave a half-hearted shrug, “contrary to popular belief, I’m not immune to a little flirting… real or not.”

He frowned slightly, “I know you’re not immune or are you purposefully forgetting our first mission?”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” you replied and now it was your turn to smirk. You saw something in his expression shift, like he was accepting the challenge you’d just given him.

“Do I need to remind you?” he asked, inching closer and your breath hitched when his hand rested on your neck. “Because I remember it quite vividly,” he whispered in your ear and you couldn’t help the shiver that raced up your spine. 

“I think it’s coming back to me now,” you said as he pulled back to look at you and he chuckled.

“Incoming.” you furrowed your brows at him as he leaned away but before you could ask him what he meant you felt a strong hand wrap around your arm and yank you upwards and suddenly you found yourself being pulled across the bar and one glance back to Rooster only revealed a smug look that said I told you so. And he did.

“Get off of me!” you yelled as you pushed Jake’s hand off you, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared up at him and squinted your eyes to shield from the sun setting over the beach… now just a handful of yards away in your new location. “What the hell is your problem?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You just gestured for him to explain. “Rooster? Really?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Please tell me you’re not that dense,” he said and you could see the disappointment in his features but what you couldn’t figure out was why. You just shook your head and threw your arms out in exasperation and he sighed. “Do you really think flirting with Rooster is a good idea?”

You let out an indignant laugh, “you think that was flirting?”

“Okay, I know you’re not that dense.” 

“I know this has been difficult for you to wrap your head around but I have friendships on this squad outside of you that have been in existence for years. Whatever you think you saw was me catching up with an old friend.”

He scoffed, “and he just had to have his hands on your neck and thigh while doing so?”

“And so what if he did? I’m failing to see where this is any of your business and why it gave you the right to physically remove me from my conversation.”

“Figured I’d save you from making a mistake because it’s never a good idea to get involved with someone on your squad… especially on a mission as hard as this one.”

“You would know wouldn’t you?” you countered. “Speaking from personal experience?”

“Don’t do that, you always find a way to turn it around on me.”

“Maybe because you’re always the one in the wrong!” you shouted. “I know that me being here is weird for you, and I know it’s been an adjustment having me in the air with you but that does not give you the right to act like you have for the past eight years. I am not your kid sister’s best friend anymore, I am not a teenager that needs you to bail her out when guys get handsy.”

“Well, you’re definitely acting like a teenager who needs me to bail her out before she makes a mistake that could follow her around for the rest of her career.”

“You are the one acting like a teenager right now! In case you haven’t noticed because you’ve been too busy strutting around like you’re god’s fucking gift to us all, I’ve built an incredible career for myself, and I’m pretty damn good at what I do… I have to be, right? Because I landed myself here with you. Or do you think that was just a fluke? The only reason this is new to you is because I diminished myself to hide from you because I knew you couldn’t deal with the fact that I can handle my own shit now.”

“You think lying to everyone is handling your shit? You hid because you were too much of a coward to own up to it.”

You let out a bitter laugh, “I lied to everyone because they worry. Your mother cries every day you’re on deployment. Your sister calls me twice as much. Your dad goes to church twice a week. My parents check their phones every hour waiting to see if yours sent them any kind of update. It’s easier for everyone if they believe my traveling and being out of service range is because I’m safe and sound, digging up old relics. I lied because I knew you would act like this and I lied because giving our families some peace of mind was worth more to me than getting credit for everything I’ve accomplished.”

He was silent for a moment as he processed what you’d said, and he took a step back as silence permeated the outdoor patio. “I don’t think it was just a fluke,” he finally said and you let out a sharp exhale.

“Well, obviously it wasn’t, I’m a much better pilot than you.” you joked and he gave you a deadpan look. “Every time you snap at me in the air, or dismiss me in the training room, or conveniently occupy yourself elsewhere when my previous missions become the center of focus, you're only reinforcing the reasons I kept this from you. I didn’t want to. Of course I wanted to tell you of all people, I just… didn’t want to feel like I used to when we were growing up. Like the little kid you got stuck with.”

He sighed, “well, now I feel like a jackass.”

You shrugged, “well… you kind of are a jackass.”

“You’re not the little kid I got stuck with, sunshine. I just-”

“I get it,” you cut him off. You wanted this conversation to end before it got too deep, and you could tell by the look in his eyes you were about to jump headfirst into a conversation neither of you were ready for. “Come on, buy me a beer to make up for what a jackass you were.” 

You were on your third run through of the mission today, probably the dozenth this week and each time something went wrong, or you weren’t fast enough, or nothing went wrong and you were fast enough but you missed the target. Between this and Maverick’s constant reminders of just how impossible this mission was, you were finding it hard to push through the noise and focus on your objectives… something that had never been an issue for you in the past. You’d made a career off of keeping your head down and doing what was expected of you no matter how difficult it was but this? Each time you stepped into the cockpit you couldn’t help but think you were training for your death.

“Talk to me, Bob,” Phoenix said as you flew above the dry terrain. You could feel the clock running out, both on this run through and your mission training in general.

“We are twelve seconds late on target, we gotta move! We gotta move,” Bob replied.

“Copy, try to stay with me,” you said as you increased your speed.

“Wait, who’s that?” Bob asked and you cocked your head slightly, waiting for further information.

“Blue team, you’ve been spotted.” Maverick’s voice rang throughout your headset and you winced.

“Shit, it’s Mav.” 

“What the hell is he doing here?” Phoenix asked,

“I’m a bandit on course to intercept, blue team what are you gonna do?”

“He’s twenty miles left, ten o’clock. Seven hundred knots closure.” Bob supplied.

“Your call, what do you want to do?” you asked Phoenix, looking over your shoulder in the direction of her aircraft.

“Continue, we’re close. Stay on target.”

“He’s swinging around to the north,” Bob said as you began to brace yourself.

“Stand by for pop-up.” 

“Be ready on that laser, Bob,” Phoenix ordered.

“Copy, I’m on it.”

“Blue team, bandit is still closing,” Maverick reminded you and you felt tension settling in your muscles.

“Popping now,” you communicated as you sharply moved to a steep incline. You gasped for air as the weight crushed you backwards into your seat. “Talk to me, Bob. Where’s Mav?”

“He’s five miles out, he’s coming fast.”

“Target’s in sight,” Phoenix said.

“Where’s my laser, Bob?” you asked, already feeling the panic creep in.

“Deadeye! Deadeye! It’s no good. Sorry, I can’t get a lock.”

“We’re out of time, I’m dropping blind,” you said with a slight shake of your head as your thumb hovered over the button as you tried to drop it at the exact right moment. “Fuck, I missed,” you sighed as you began your steep climb out.

“That’s tone,” Maverick said and you could hear the disappointment in his voice.

“Maverick’s got missile lock on us.” Bob groaned.

“Shit, we’re dead,” Phoenix cursed.

“Blue team, that’s a fail.” You let out a sharp exhale as you ripped your mask off in frustration. No matter how hard or how many times you tried you were always so close without ever actually making it. “That’s enough for today.” Maverick said as you leveled out and you navigated to flank him. “Bird strike! Bird strike!” he shouted as you tried to avoid the onslaught of birds but it was no use, you felt your jet become unsteady as one flew directly into your engine.

“Shit, left engine’s on fire. Climbing,” you said as you yanked up on the yoke. “Throttling back, shutting off fuel to left engine. Extinguishing fire,” you narrated as you ran through your mental checklist of everything you needed to do. “Fuck, it’s still spinning. Trying to restart,” you tried to keep your voice and your nerves steady but it was no use, the erratic beeping filling the cockpit was threatening to pull you apart.

“Viper, it’s on fire! Don’t start-” Maverick started but you cut him off.

“Throttling up.” You watched as everything flashed at you and you tried to regain control as you quickly lost altitude. “Extinguishing right engine.” Everything was in failure and you were running out of options.

“Viper, punch out.” Maverick ordered as your jet hurtled towards the hillside in a spiral. “You can’t save it. Eject, eject!”

“Fuck, ejecting! Ejecting!” you shouted as you pulled the handles between your feet and the last thing you remembered was watching your plane burn in.

You awoke in a panic, gripping the sheets as a distant beeping accelerated your heart rate and as if on autopilot your hands grabbed for the controls but there was nothing but fabric. “Hey, hey you’re okay,” you heard and you let out a sharp exhale as you saw Jake sitting beside you, leaned forward in his chair with concern written all over his face.

“I don’t- what the hell happened?”

“Bird strike. Thank god you punched out in time but you lost consciousness on the way down. Doc said you’re fine, they’re coming to discharge you soon,” he explained and you nodded as you began to calm down.

“Jesus,” you whispered before another wave of panic rolled over you. “Mav? Phoenix and Bob?” you asked, realizing you’d been so wrapped up in your own cockpit you didn’t even know if the voices coming through your headset were for you or if they were struggling with their own aircrafts.

“They’re good, Mav stopped by earlier to check in and everyone has been blowing up the group chat asking for updates,” he chuckled as he rested a hand on your leg.

“Just another thing to tack onto the long list of failures with this mission,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

He frowned at you, “hey, no one faults you for this. You can’t control bird strikes,” he reassured. “Everyone is just glad you got out.” His thumb was rubbing reassuring circles against your thigh and you took a deep breath as you tried to shake off the way he was looking at you. It was concern and… something else you couldn’t place.

“Jake, I don’t… I don’t think everyone’s going to come back from this,” you whispered, it was a universal truth, everyone had thought it at one point or another, Maverick had basically said it without being explicit, and you knew damn well Cyclone didn’t care about casualties so long as the mission was completed. “We can’t even get through dropping the bombs, we haven’t even accounted for SAM’s or bandits.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s us.” he said, voice firm and you knew it was a defense mechanism. He wouldn’t come out and say it but he shared the same fears you did. “Come on, let’s get you up, everyone wants to see that you’re alive and well for themselves,” he diverted but you knew better. He just didn’t want to get into it with you because if he did he wasn’t sure he’d be able to flip the switch back. He had to stay focused and so did you.

The drive to the Hard Deck was silent, much like a lot of your time had been with Jake recently and it made you want to rip your hair out. You couldn’t deal with the hot and cold, one minute you felt like nothing had changed when he brought you your coffee exactly how you liked it, or when you were doubled over in laughter by the dart board and the next he was distant, blowing you off entirely and pretending you were no more than a colleague. You knew things wouldn’t be like how they were back home, this was work and the lives of you and your team were on the line. There were more important things to focus on but when you watched him let loose with Coyote after-hours or humor Fanboy while he talked about some nerdy tv show you couldn’t help but think it felt like a knife to the back. 

“Easy, I know you’re sore even though you’re pretending you’re not,” he said softly as he helped you climb out of the car and you just gave him a deadpan look.

“I’m not pretending,” you protested and he smirked.

“Sure you’re not,” he agreed, even though he really didn’t.

“There she is!” Fanboy cheered as you walked in and you gave a bashful smile, hiding your face behind your hands to shield yourself from the commotion. “How are you feeling? What’d the doctor say?” he asked as everyone looked at you intently.

Bob elbowed him, “you are under no obligation to share your private medical information,” he said, clear disapproval in his tone at everyone’s nosiness.

You chuckled, “it’s okay, Bob. No concussion, nothing broken, just some light bruising in my ribs. Still cleared to fly so it looks like the competition hasn’t been knocked out yet,” you teased.

“Thank god, I couldn’t stand it if you abandoned me,” Phoenix said with a warm smile as she wrapped an arm around your waist carefully. “Are you allowed to drink?”

“It’s actually been encouraged,” you joked and she nodded before disappearing.

“Glad you’re okay,” Rooster said, giving you a sheepish smile. “Scared the shit out of all of us.”

“I like to keep you on your toes,” you replied. “Since I almost died today and all…” you started and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, so you’re milking this?”

“Mmhm,” you smirked. “Since I almost died today, think you could go play a little something?” you asked and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“For you, I think that can be arranged.” you watched with a small smile as he did his usual routine of yanking the cord of the jukebox out of the wall before sauntering over to the piano. You loved watching the bar crowd around him, watching your new and old friends sing along and bust out terrible dance moves. It made it a little easier to forget the impending doom you were all facing.

“Did you make that happen?” Phoenix asked, placing a glass of bourbon in your hand.

“Not like I had to try very hard,” you laughed, watching as she nearly ran over to join him.

“You’ve always been so good at that,” Jake said, appearing beside you suddenly and you tore your eyes away from watching the fun for a moment to look up at him.

“What’s that?”

“Bringing people together,” he answered, gazing down at you. “This could have been just another detachment. Forced friendship while we’re stuck with each other before we go back to our normal squads, but nothing about that looks forced to me,” he said, turning back to watch Bob twirling Phoenix around, Payback and Fanboy doing the robot to a song completely unsuited for such a dance, Coyote and Rooster singing at the top of their lungs.

“Thank you,” you said and he pulled his attention back to you, an unasked question on his face. “For staying with me, it was nice having you there when I woke up.”

He shrugged, “no problem, you’re Sadie’s best friend… pretty sure she would have flown out here just to kick my ass if I didn’t.” Your face fell for a moment but you quickly recovered.

“Right, just Sadie’s best friend,” you muttered, polishing off your drink in one swig. Suddenly you felt silly, of course that’s only how he saw you. You were naive to think the ‘friendship’ you’d built over the past two decades was nothing more than the fact that you were in his life because of his sister, because your families had bonded over the daughters who couldn’t stand to be apart for more than twelve hours. The quarterly phone calls and drinking sessions past midnight over the holidays were nothing more than circumstantial. 

“Sunshine-” he started but you gave him an empty smile.

“Need a refill,” you said before walking towards the bar and Penny saw you coming, saw the look in your eyes and was quick to pour as soon as you’d set the glass down.

“Gave everyone quite a scare today, you alright?” she asked and you nodded. You knew she wasn’t really asking you about your ejection but you were content to pretend she was.

“All good, comes with the territory,” you chuckled and she gave you a knowing look.

“That one’s on me, consider it your unofficial hazard pay,” she joked and you took a moment to lean against the bar as you collected your thoughts. You couldn’t help but feel stupid  to think that even with the rigors of the job and learning curve of being around each other professionally you’d find some sort of groove resembling the one you settled into back home. You wondered what the hell that even was when you were home. He was always the highlight of your holidays, someone who understood you even though he didn’t know it. You looked forward to sneaking into his room when everyone had gone to sleep with a bottle to talk shit about your families and you shook your head as you sat in the embarrassment of thinking he could have looked forward to that too.

“Sunshine, I didn’t mean-” he started as he approached you and you just shook your head.

“It’s fine, I get it.” you said, focusing your attention on Rooster who was still fiddling with the keys while everyone went back to their groups and listened to it as background noise. “Training is almost over and when the mission is done we can go back to our squads and you can forget about the little kid who’s been following you around for twenty years.” 

“I don’t think you’re a little kid, I really didn’t mean anything by-”

“Jake.” you cut him off, turning to look up at him. “Really, it’s fine. With any luck after this we won’t see each other until Christmas so… maybe it’s better if we just focus on our own shit. We have enough to worry about.” You walked across the bar and slid onto the bench with Rooster who gave you a questioning look.

“Everything okay?” he asked and you nodded, taking a swig of your drink. 

“What do you say to a little Great Balls of Fire?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment and with just a few of the opening chords he’d pulled everyone right back in just like he always did.

“It’s been an honor flying with you,” Maverick started as you all stood at attention. “Each one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission, my choice is a reflection of that and nothing more.” 

“Choose your two foxtrot teams,” Cyclone said and the tension in the room was palpable.

“Payback and Fanboy, Phoenix and Bob.” You smiled softly, that’s exactly who you would have picked.

“And your wingman,” Cyclone added and you felt the anxiety settle in the pit of your stomach. It was between you, Rooster, and Jake… You knew there was a complicated history between Maverick and Rooster, and despite your instability with Jake you didn’t want to be pitted against him.

“Viper.” he called out and the first person you looked at was Rooster who was doing a great job at masking his feelings and he shot you a tight smile. You glanced forward to find Jake looking at you and he gave you a slight nod. You thought getting picked for this mission would feel better than this, but you only felt sick.

“The rest of you will stand by on the carrier for any reserve role that’s required. Dismissed,” Warlock said and your limbs were slow to catch up with your brain as you began to move for the exit to head back to your bunk. You’d been training for weeks yet you felt entirely unprepared. Maverick stepping in as team leader restored a bit of your confidence but even with him leading you knew the odds of actually pulling this off and everyone making it back were slim. Part of you was relieved it was you and not Jake, or Rooster. Rooster still had a legacy to fulfill, and Jake simply wasn’t finished. He had a lot left to learn, and a lot left to accomplish.

“Hey,” Rooster called after you, jogging to catch up and you stopped in front of your door, looking around at the crowded hallway and you subtly nodded for him to follow you. “Congratulations.” he said as you closed the door behind you.

“I’m sorry,” you started but he shook his head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You earned this, I know better than anyone how good you are in the air. Mav made the right call… I’m only sorry you aren’t team leader, we all thought you would be.”

“If it makes you feel any better you would have been my wingman if I was,” you offered and he chuckled.

“Not Hangman?”

You sighed, “I trust Jake implicitly on the ground, but… I can’t in the air, and he hasn’t had the best reaction to seeing me in this environment. You on the other hand I know I can trust in the air. You’ve saved my ass several times,” you said with a soft smile.

“Only as often as you’ve saved mine,” he replied. “I think you need to look at Hangman’s attitude towards you through a different lens.”

“What do you mean?” you asked as you slightly tilted your head in confusion.

“It’s not that he sees you as his little sister’s best friend, or the kid he can’t seem to escape… it’s the fact that he doesn’t see you that way, and now he’s forced to face it every day.” 

“If he doesn’t see me that way, then what way does he see me?” you asked, struggling to put the dots together and he just smiled.

“I can’t do all the work for you.” he said, pulling you in for a hug. “I’ve missed having you around, V.”

“I’ve missed having you around too, Roo. Let’s be actual friends when this is all over… which means no more sending me photos of bird shit on your canopy,” you said with a laugh.

“I told you, that’s peak friendship!” he said and you pulled away when your door creaked open.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Jake asked as he poked his head in, clearly uncomfortable and you and Rooster both shook your heads.

“No, I was just leaving… I’ll see you before, yeah?” Rooster asked and you nodded, giving his arm a squeeze as he walked past. “Hey, don’t think, just do, right?” he said before leaving and you nodded.

“Don’t think, just do.”

“Sure you two aren’t a thing?” Jake asked as he walked in, glancing behind him to make sure he was gone and you chuckled.

“Scout’s honor,” you replied.

“I just wanted to come congratulate you,” he said and you let out another soft laugh.

“Seems everyone wanted to do that,” you said. “Thank you, I’m sorry you weren’t picked.”

“Don’t be, you were right. You’re the better pilot,” he said and there wasn’t an ounce of dishonesty in his tone. “I need you to have a clear head while you’re up there, but… can we talk when this is all over? I handled this completely wrong and I don’t want to forget about the girl that’s been in my corner for twenty years when we go back to our old squads.” you smiled at the way he rephrased what you’d said earlier.

You nodded, “I’d like that.”

He moved towards the door but turned back to say, “I know Sadie’s your best friend, but just so you know… you’re mine,” before he left and you let out a sharp exhale and flopped onto your bunk as the door shut behind him. You put your hands over your eyes as you let what both Rooster and Jake said sink in and it left you with far more questions than you had when you entered this dorm… so much for having a clear head. You heard the door push open and let out a groan, sitting up to see who was coming to mess with your head now but quickly turned sheepish.

“Jesus, hello to you too,” Phoenix muttered as she walked in and set something on her bunk. “Saw both your boyfriends leave,” she said with a smirk and you rolled your eyes before laying back down.

“They’re not my boyfriends.” you protested and she just laughed.

“Sure they aren’t. How are you feeling?”

“How are you feeling?” you shot back as she sat next to you.

“Terrified, but we’re as ready as we’re going to be.” You sat up and turned to face her fully.

“I’m really glad you’re flying with me, Phe. How badass are we? Not one but two women selected for the uber secret, uber dangerous mission?” you asked and she let out a laugh.

“Super badass, now we just gotta make sure we come home so we can brag about it.”

You stood on the platform with nerves rattling you to your core. You took a deep breath and shook your limbs out as you looked up at your jet.  You reached up to press your hand to its exterior and said, “no funny business today, alright? I wanna come home.”

“Sunshine!” you heard from behind you and turned to see Jake jogging towards you. You stood in silence for a moment before he pulled you in for a bone crushing hug. “You give ‘em hell, okay?” You nodded when he pulled away and you watched him walk to his own jet where he’d be sitting as Dagger Spare. You made eye contact with Maverick who gave you a nod that you returned, a silent exchange that solidified you were in this together.

“Dagger One, up and ready on catapult one.” Maverick said in your ear and you exhaled forcefully, willing any reservations to leave your body with your breath.

“Dagger Spare standing by.”

“Dagger Four, up and ready.”

“Dagger Three, up and ready.”

“Dagger Two, up and ready,” you said as you focused your mind and pushed out anything but the mission. You weren’t going to think about what Rooster had said, or about what Jake wanted to talk to you about when this was all over, and especially not what you were hoping he wanted to talk to you about. Blocking out the noise was what you were good at, and one of the reasons you were selected. Get in, get out, go home. That’s all you had to do.

You launched off the catapult and fell into formation behind Maverick and listened for the command to fall below the radar. The ocean was closer than it had ever been before and somehow it felt so different from your proximity to the ground during training. This was real. This wasn’t a simulation.

“Feet dry in sixty seconds. Comanche, Dagger One. Picture.”

“Comanche, picture clean. Decision is yours.” 

“Copy,” Maverick replied and waited for a beat before saying, “Dagger attack.” Not that it was an option before but there was no turning back now. You watched the tomahawks fly over your head as you assumed attack formation and marked your time as you entered the valley and rounded the snowy ridges. “First SAM site overhead.”

“Looks like we’re clear on radar, Mav.” Phoenix said.

“Let’s not take it for granted.” You knew they were there but you chose to ignore the presence of the SAM’s above you. Worrying about them now wouldn’t do you any good, you had plenty of time for that later. Your only concern was staying below where you could trigger them.

“We got two minutes to target,” Bob said and you checked your radar, increasing your speed.

“Stay with me, Payback.” you grunted as you overtook a curve.

“I got you,” he confirmed.

“We’re picking up two bandits. Single group, two contacts.” Comanche informed and you furrowed your brows slightly.

“Comanche, what’s their heading?” Phoenix asked.

“Bullseye 090, 50, tacked southwest.”

“They’re headed away from us, they don’t know we’re here,” you replied.

“The second those tomahawks hit the airbase those bandits are gonna move to defend the target, we have to get there before they do. Increase speed,” Maverick ordered and you nodded to yourself as you did.

“We got you Mav, don’t wait for me,” Phoenix responded. You lagged as you finally saw one of the SAM’s, a visual you were trying really hard to avoid and your breath caught in your throat as some of the noise started to creep in.

“Stay with me, V, don’t think.” Maverick said to you and you nodded to yourself again.

“Just do,” you finished as you pushed forward on the throttle.

“Jesus, Viper,” Payback shouted in your ear and you chuckled.

“Come on, Payback, you with me?” you asked. “Watch your heads,” you warned as you navigated through a bridge.

“Right behind you!” he confirmed after Fanboy let out some expletives that let you know they were still tailing you.

“Phoenix, stand-by for pop-up strike.”

“Dagger Three in position,” she replied. You heard their grunts through the headset as they fought against the gravity trying to pull them backwards.

“Get me eyes on that target, Bob!”

“Dagger Three, standby, Mav… Standby… I’ve got it!”

“Target acquired, bombs away.” Mav said and you felt your body stiffen as you waited for confirmation.

“We’ve got impact. Check, direct hit! Direct hit!” Bob yelled and you felt a wave of relief that disappeared as quickly as it had washed over you.

“Dagger Two, status.”

“Almost there, Mav, almost there,” you replied as you flew over the ridge.

“Fanboy, where’s my laser?” you asked as you grew closer to the target.

“V, there’s something wrong with this laser… Shit! Dead eye, dead eye, dead eye!” Fanboy shouted and you cursed under your breath.

“Come on, we are running out of time. Get it online!” you yelled back.

“I’m trying!”

“Come on, Fanboy!” you heard Payback say and you were running a risk analysis in your head.

“Nearly there, nearly there!”

“There’s no time, I’m dropping blind.” you said, voice calm and steady as you focused on the target.

“Viper, I’ve got this!” Fanboy tried and you wanted to reassure him but you couldn’t.

“Pull up. Bombs away, bombs away!” you said as you pressed your button before pulling up.

“Bullseye, bullseye, bullseye!” you heard command say but you couldn’t focus on anything as you tried to get oxygen to your brain, the force was compressing your lungs and you could feel the edges of your vision darken as you let out breathless pants.

“We’re not out of this yet,” Maverick grunted. “Here it comes.” you listened as they communicated, trying to evade the SAM’s. “Viper, status.” You wanted to answer but you couldn’t as you flew over the ridge and onto the radar.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered, looking overhead as the missiles launched. “Smoke in the air!”

“SAM on your six, Viper!” Payback warned.

“Deploying countermeasures,” you called as you slammed the button. “Negative contact.”

“Dagger one defending.”

“Talk to me, Bob!”

“Break right, Phoenix, break right! Mav, nine o’clock! Nine o’clock!” It was pure chaos as they exploded overhead.

“Viper, two more on your six!” you heard someone say but you couldn’t tell who.

“Dagger Two, defending,” you said as you hit your flare button.

“Payback, SAM on your nose.”

“Dagger Four defending.”

“Viper, tally, tally, seven o’clock!

“Talk to me, Bob!”

“On our six!”

“Dagger Two defending.”

���Phoenix, break right!”

“I see it, I see it!” Everyone’s voices were overlapping as you tried to look out for yourselves and each other, in all your years in the Navy you’d been in some pretty fucked up situations but this one just felt different. You yelled out to Phoenix and watched as she came close to taking a hit, and you could hear Fanboy’s panicked shouts trying to keep up with what was going on around you. You thought that if you had the time you might throw up, but you didn’t.

“Dagger Two, defending,” you said as you looked over your shoulder to see two on your tail. “Fuck, I’m out of flares!”

“Viper, evade, evade!” Maverick shouted and you whipped your jet around but shook your head.

“I can’t shake ‘em! They’re on me, they’re on me!” You watched Maverick’s jet pass overhead as he deployed his flares but gasped when one hit his tail. Your heart sank as you watched what was left of his jet fall out of the sky and tears pricked at your eyes that you quickly blinked away.

“Maverick!” you yelled, trying to turn in your seat to look for a parachute.

“Dagger One is hit! I repeat, Dagger One is hit! Maverick is down!” Phoenix called out as the wreckage of his plane floated down around you.

“Dagger One status? Status!” you asked with no answer. “Anyone see him? Does anyone see him?”

“I didn’t see a parachute,” Payback replied.

“We have to circle back.”

“Comanche. Bandits inbound. Single group, hot. Recommend dagger flow south. One minute to intercept.” There was a pause before you heard, “All daggers flow to ECP.”

“What about Maverick?” you asked, chest tightening at the thought of leaving him behind. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

“Dagger Spare, request permission to launch and fly air cover,” you heard Jake in your ear and you didn’t realize how badly you’d needed to hear the sound of his voice.

“Negative, spare.”

“Dagger, you are not to engage. Repeat, do not engage.” You gripped your controls as you listened to them ask you to acknowledge you heard the order but it all sounded muffled.

“Viper, those bandits are closing,” Phoenix said. “We can’t go back.”

“V, he’s gone. Maverick’s gone,” Bob added and you could hear the sadness in his voice but you weren’t accepting that. You thought of Rooster… of him telling you Maverick had pulled his papers and how despite how angry he was you could see through it to the hurt. He’d lost his father and alienated his only male role model. You thought of him listening in back at the carrier, the regret you knew he would be feeling as he realized Maverick was gone.

“I’m his wingman,” you said firmly. “Daggers flow back to carrier.” you ordered.

“Viper?” “What the fuck are you doing?” Fanboy asked.

“Dagger Two. Return to carrier.” You heard command say but you ignored it.

“Maverick is down which means I’m team leader now, I’m not leaving him behind.”

“Viper, you can’t do anything for him,” Phoenix tried.

“Only if I don’t try. Return to carrier, now.” you ordered again as you flipped around in pursuit of where his jet had fallen. You flicked off your radio and disconnected the overlapping chatter filling your ear. You whizzed back through the canyon and saw Maverick running through the snow covered clearing, trying to evade a helicopter and you used the element of surprise to your advantage… swinging around behind it.

“Dagger Two, deploying missile,” you narrated as you pressed the button but then let out a breathless laugh as you made contact. “Don’t really know who I’m saying that to.” You moved to circle back around and unknowingly triggered a SAM that quickly intercepted you and you cursed as you pulled up on your ejection loops.

You hit the ground with a thud and rolled over onto your back as you let out a groan. “Son of a bitch,” you muttered, “I am so sick of ejecting.” Your muscles ached as you worked on rolling up your parachute and you lifted your head to see Maverick running towards you.

“You alright?” he yelled and you nodded as you stood.

“Yeah, I’m good. You alright?” you asked but were caught off guard when he sent you flying backwards into the snow. “Oh, Jesus,” you muttered as you hit the ground, again. “What the fuck?” you yelled as you got up.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as you threw your helmet to the ground.

“What am I doing here?” 

“You think I took that missile so you could be down here with me? You should be back on the carrier by now!”

“I saved your life!” you shouted.

“I saved your life, that’s the whole point.” he countered and you narrowed your eyes at him as you dusted the snow off your jacket. “What the hell were you even thinking?”

“I’m your wingman!” you shouted, throwing your arms out in exasperation. “That means something to me beyond the mission. I haven’t lost anyone yet and I don’t intend on losing anyone today.” He stared at you for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“Well, it’s good to see you,” he finally said and you put your hands on your hips as you tried to catch your breath.

“Yeah, good to see you too… so, what’s the plan?” you asked and he just gave you that famous Maverick look that said you probably weren’t going to like it.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” you said as you looked at an old plane through your binoculars. “An F-14?”

“I shot down three migs in one of those,” he pointed out and you just gave him an incredulous look.

“We don’t even know if that bag of ass can fly,” you countered.

“Let’s find out!” he said before taking off and your eyes widened.

“Mav!” you whisper-yelled after him. “Okay,” you muttered as you followed suit, stumbling into step with him as you walked out into the open, trying your best to act natural. “There’s a lot of people around.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s more over there.” you said as you looked around as subtly as you could. You knew this mission would be unlike anything you’d ever faced but you really weren’t anticipating being in enemy territory on foot.

“Okay.” he said, looking around. “Let’s start running.”

“Yeah, run.” you agreed, chasing after him into the hangar.

“Once I give you the signal for air, you’re gonna flip this switch until the needle gets to 120. When the engine starts, you gotta pull out the pins and disconnect everything. You understand?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, watching him power it on.

“Once I’m up, stow the ladder,” he yelled as he climbed up and you were quick to fold it away behind him. You gave him a thumbs up as you flipped the switch and watched the dial and when the engine fired on you ran around the jet pulling everything out.

“Ah, shit,” you huffed, struggling slightly as you jumped up onto the wing and climbed into the backseat. “Jesus, this thing is old,” you commented as you looked over everything and tried to make sense of it.

“Canopy?” he asked and you confirmed you were clear.

“Both runways are cratered,” you pointed out. “How are we gonna get this museum piece off the ground?” You looked out the window and furrowed your brows. “Hey Mav, the wings are coming out.”

“Yep.”

“Why are the wings coming out?” you asked but he didn’t answer. “Holy shit, are we really using a taxiway as a runway?” You were absolutely terrified but you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a small part of you that was absolutely exhilarated. 

“Just hang on,” he said and you flew backwards in your seat as he took off. “Come on, come on, come on.”

“Mav?” you asked, looking ahead of him at the structure you were barrelling towards. “Holy shit,” you muttered as you closed your eyes and felt the wheels lift off the ground. You looked down and switched your ESAT on, hoping they’d see you and send reinforcements.

“Alright Viper, get us in touch with the boat.”

“Working on it, everything’s out. What should I do?”

“First the radio. Throw the uh… the UHF2 circuit breaker. Try that.”

“Sure, I’m not looking at like three hundred breakers or anything… got anything more specific?”

“I don’t know, that was not my department,” he answered and you nodded.

“Where’s Bob when you need him?” you muttered as you leaned down to fiddle with what you could find and your eyes widened when you looked beneath you. “Mav, tally two, five o’clock low. What do we do?”

“Okay, listen. Just be cool. If they knew who we were, we’d be dead already.”

“That’s comforting… what’s the plan?”

“Just put your mask on. Remember, we’re on the same team.” you watched as they pulled up beside you. “Just wave and smile.” You forced a smile as you watched the other pilot gesture with his hands but it wasn’t anything you were familiar with.

“What is that, what’s he saying?”

“No idea. I have no idea what he’s saying.”

“What about that one?” you asked as they changed gestures. “Any idea?”

“Nope, never seen that one either.” Maverick played dumb as he tapped his helmet and gave a thumbs down. “Shit, his wingman is moving into weapons envelope. Alright, listen up. When I tell you, you grab those rings above your head. That’s the ejection handle.”

“Can we outrun them?” you asked, not exactly keen on the idea of punching out for a third time in as many weeks.

“Not their missiles and guns.”

“Then it’s a dogfight,” you said, and he sighed.

“An F-14 against fifth-gen fighters?”

“It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot. What would you do if I wasn’t here?”

“But you are here,” he said and you could hear the apprehension in his tone. “I don’t intend on losing anyone today,” he repeated your earlier words.

“So don’t. Come on, Mav. Don’t think, just do.” He was silent for a moment and your hands flew to brace yourself as he jolted to the side and laid into one of the other jets.

“Tell me when you see smoke in the air,” he ordered and you twisted in your seat to watch behind you.

“Smoke in the air! Smoke in the air!”

“Hang on!” He dropped a missile and led the other plane directly into it.

“Splash one! Splash one!” you cheered, still trying to find your bearings as the plane jolted around. “Here comes another one!”

“Viper, flares, now now now!” he called and you pressed the button, watching as they intercepted the missile. “Splitting the throttles, coming around,” he said as you grunted and placed a hand on the ceiling. “Give me tone, give me tone.”

“You got him, Mav!”

“Taking the shot,” he said as he deployed and you watched the other plane do an evasion maneuver you’ve seen before. “What the-”

“Holy shit,” you said, watching him practically float past your canopy. “What the fuck was that?”

“Hang on, we’ve gotta get low. The terrain will confuse his targeting system.”

“Here he comes!” you shouted as he was hot on your tail.

“Talk to me, Viper, where is he?”

“He’s still on us,” you managed to get out as you bounced from side to side of the canopy. “We took a hit, we took a hit!”

“Damn it.”

“Come on Mav, do some of that pilot shit!” 

“Brace yourself.” You quickly rose in altitude and you struggled to get a breath in as you went careening back into the valley. “I’ve got tone, taking the shot.” he said and you watched the other plane take it out with countermeasures. “Out of missiles, switching to guns.”

“You got him, Mav!” you yelled as the distance lessened.

“It’s not over yet,” he replied. “One last chance.” You watched him use his last round of ammunition to rip into the top of the other jet and you let out a cheer when it crashed into the rocky hillside.

“Yes! Splash two!” you said before you went back to fiddling with the controls, trying to recall anything from initial training back in the day and you exhaled in relief when the system in front of you came to life. “Mav, I got the radio on!”

“Outstanding, get us in touch with the boat.”

“Copy that,” you said just as alarms started ringing. “What the fuck? Where even is he?”

“He’s on our nose,” Maverick said and you really wished you didn’t hear the dread in his tone. “We’re out of ammo. Smoke in the air, Viper, flares!” 

“That was way too close,” you said. “We’re out of flares, Mav! Shit, he’s already on us.” you grunted as bullets began hitting your jet. “This is not good!” Maverick did his best to try and evade but it wasn’t any use. “We took another hit!”

“No, no, no. no!”

“We can’t take much more of this!”

“We can’t outrun this guy, we gotta eject.”

“What?” you yelled, panic creeping into your voice.

“We need altitude. Pull the ejection handles the second I tell you to.”

“Mav, wait-” you started but he cut you off.

“Viper, there’s no other way. Eject, eject, eject!” he ordered and you reached above you to pull on the loops but they were stuck. “Viper, pull the handle, eject!”

“It’s not working!” you yelled back, still trying. “Mav!” You were still rising in altitude and you pressed your hands against the canopy as you realized this was it. You weren’t getting out of this. You thought of Jake, how he was going to have to tell Sadie… how it was going to fall on him to tell your parents not only were you in the Navy but that you were dead. You thought about Christmas Eve’s with him in middle school, dancing with him at his senior prom because even though you were a freshman he’d much rather have danced with you, and laughing at his old school photos while he watched you walk around the museum that was his childhood bedroom with a bottle of whiskey in your hand. It’s not that he sees you as his little sister’s best friend, it’s the fact that he doesn’t. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, realization washing over you. I know Sadie’s your best friend, but just so you know… you’re mine.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Maverick said and you flinched when you heard an explosion but exhaled in relief when you realized it wasn’t you. You turned to see what was left of the enemy jet floating down to the water as an F-18 emerged through the smoke. Your eyes were wide as you tried to process what was happening… were you actually dead? Is this what the afterlife is?

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, this is your savior speaking.” Jake started and you let out a breathless laugh as he pulled up beside you. “Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions, and prepare for landing.”

“Jake…” you said, looking over at him in disbelief.

“Hey sunshine,” he replied. “I’ll see you back on deck.” he said before flying ahead of you and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled past your lips as the adrenaline worked its way through your system.

“Maverick is downwind. No front landing gear. No tail hook. Pull the cable and raise the barricade,” Maverick communicated as you buzzed the tower and you giggled.

“Cyclone hated that,” you muttered and Maverick chuckled as you circled around and felt a jolt. “For the love of god, please don’t tell me we just lost an engine,” you sighed.

“Alright, I won’t tell you that,” he replied. You grunted as you hit the deck and flew forward in your seat at the impact before coming to a screeching halt. You were both silent for a moment, in disbelief that you actually made it back. “You good?” he finally asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you answered as the canopy raised and you were met with the cheers of all of the crewmen and your teammates. As your feet hit the ground it actually crossed your mind to drop to your knees and kiss the disgusting tarmac you were so grateful for but you had someone to find. Phoenix threw her arms around you and you reciprocated the hug but you were searching the crowd over her shoulder, muttering half-hearted thanks to the people congratulating you and you pushed everyone away as you started walking.

“Sunshine!” you heard and you turned around and finally saw him. You exhaled sharply as you ran towards him but he held out a hand that stopped you in your tracks. “What the hell were you thinking? I thought you were dead,” he shouted over the commotion and you knew you probably should have been apologizing, or explaining yourself but instead you just smiled as you looked up at him. You could see about a dozen emotions on his face, but the one you were focusing on was the one that had been there all along… you’d just been too slow to realize it. “Why are you smiling? This isn’t funny, you really scared the shit out of me. That was reckless, and it- I… Fuck sunshine, I love you so much, I can’t ever go through thinking you’re dead again. Are you even- shit, are you okay? Let me look-” you knew he wasn’t going to stop on his own so you reached out and grabbed onto his flight suit with a smirk, pulling him into you and pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated immediately and you smiled into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He lifted you off the ground as the cheers magnified around you.

“About damn time,” Rooster muttered from beside you but you didn’t care.

“I love you too, idiot,” you said when you pulled away and he set you back down but kept his arms firmly around your waist. “Chalked yourself another kill, looks like I’m going to have to even the score.”

“Always so competitive,” he said with a shake of his head before kissing you again and you pulled away when you felt a hand on your shoulder to see Maverick. He was looking at you with so much pride and gratitude that was only mirrored on your own face.

“Thank you for saving my life,” he said and you felt tears prick at your eyes.

“Thank you for saving mine, sir,” you replied and held out your hand for him to shake, but when he took it he only pulled you in for a hug. You watched him start to disappear into the crowd and quickly turned to grab Rooster by the collar and you gave him a look that had his eyes widening in fear. “I didn’t do that for Mav, I did that for you. Go,” you said firmly, shoving him in the direction Maverick had gone.

“You know, you could have just told me. You didn’t have to be an ass about it,” you said, looking up at Jake who rolled his eyes playfully.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked as you hit his arm. “I didn’t know… not until I thought it was too late,” he said, voice lowering as he stepped closer and placed a hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb against your cheekbone to wipe away a falling tear.

“I thought I’d realized too late,” you whispered as he pressed his lips to your forehead. 

“Now we have all the time in the world… after we get our asses handed to us for deliberately disobeying orders,” he said, pulling away when he noticed Cyclone approaching and you chuckled as you looked over your shoulder.

“Hey, if we get dishonorably discharged at least we’re alive and have each other, right?” 

“That’s all we need.”

ONE YEAR LATER

“Cheers to the one year anniversary of Dagger Squad,” Phoenix said as all of your glasses clinked together and you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as you looked around the room at your team.

“And begrudgingly, cheers to Cyclone who, in his own words, completely disagreed with our tactics and lack of respect for authority, but couldn’t deny the overall effectiveness of our squad,” you added as everyone laughed and you leaned into Jake beside you. “Happy Dagger-versary everyone.”

“Cheers!” everyone shouted as you sank back into your previous conversations and you looked up at Jake as you took a sip of your beer.

“It’s our one year too,” you pointed out and he smirked down at you.

“Don’t you worry, sunshine, I’ve got a whole thing planned,” he said and you smiled as

you rested your head against his chest. “How lucky am I to have had you following me around for the majority of my life?”

You pulled away and playfully hit his arm, “when you say it like that it makes me sound so juvenile!” you protested and he just laughed.

“Hey, those are your words. Besides, you’re the one who followed me into the Navy…”

“And hid from you for eight years!” you said, pretending to be mad but your laughter gave you away.

“It’s okay, you just wanted to follow in the footsteps of the greatest pilot in the world. No one could ever blame you for that.” he teased.

“Are you conveniently forgetting you admitted I was the better pilot?”

“Yeah, but then I saved your life, so…” you narrowed your eyes before leaning up to peck his lips.

“Thanks for that, by the way.” 

“Anytime, sunshine… anytime.”

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[doumadono]

Synopsis: initially hesitant about adopting a cat, Shoto finds his reservations gradually melting away as he discovers the endearing charm and companionship the furry creature brings

A/N: this story was commissioned on my Kofi page by my lovely @indignant-alpaca - I'm sharing it with her kind permission 🌸 If you like my writing, please consider supporting me via my Kofi page

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST KO-FI COMMISSIONS

In a quaint apartment on the outskirts of the city, Shoto Todoroki found himself faced with an unexpected addition to his life — one that would soon melt the icy barriers around his heart.

His girlfriend, Y/N, beamed as you carried a fluffy ball of fur into your living room. "Shoto, meet Mochi," you announced, presenting the tiny calico kitten nestled in your arms.

Shoto eyed the feline with a stoic expression, his dual-colored eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and reluctance. "A cat?" he questioned, his tone revealing a hint of skepticism.

You nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I thought it would be great to have a pet. They say cats bring good luck."

Shoto arched an eyebrow, his signature stoicism intact. "Luck, huh?" he mused, as Mochi stretched out her tiny paws, giving a small mew. "I don't need luck."

Undeterred, you gently placed Mochi on the floor, who immediately began exploring her new surroundings.

Shoto observed from a distance, maintaining his cool composure. "She's small," he remarked.

You giggled, "Well, she's a kitten. But just wait until you see her charm."

As if on cue, Mochi approached Shoto, her curious eyes fixated on him.

"I'm not a cat person," Shoto declared, attempting to assert his indifference.

You nudged him playfully. "Give it time, Shoto. Cats have a way of growing on you."

Over the next few days, Shoto found himself begrudgingly amused by Mochi's antics. The mischievous kitten would bat at his shoelaces, pounce on invisible prey, and curl up on his lap during quiet moments.

You couldn't help but notice the subtle softening of Shoto's expression as he interacted with your newfound furry companion.

Another evening, as Shoto sat reading a book, Mochi nestled beside him, purring contentedly.

You seized the opportunity. "Looks like someone's warming up to you," you teased.

Shoto sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Maybe she's not as annoying as I thought."

As days turned into weeks, the bond between Shoto and Mochi deepened in ways neither of them expected.

Mochi, once a mere distraction, became a constant presence in Shoto's life.

Mochi's preference for Shoto became evident. She would follow him around the apartment, ignore your attempts at play, and eagerly await his return whenever he stepped out.

One evening, after a long day of hero duties, Shoto found himself slumping onto the couch, exhaustion evident in his eyes.

Mochi, sensing his weariness, padded over and gracefully leaped onto his lap. She nuzzled against his chest, her purrs resonating through the room.

Shoto, surprised by the comforting gesture, couldn't help but stroke her soft fur absentmindedly.

But Mochi had other plans. As Shoto attempted to get up, Mochi protested with a small meow and refused to budge. It was as if she sensed when he needed a moment of respite, providing a gentle reminder to slow down.

In the mornings, Shoto found Mochi perched on the windowsill, her eyes fixed on the world outside. He joined her, silently appreciating the quiet moments shared with his feline friend.

You often caught them in these contemplative instances, a smile playing on your lips as you witnessed the unspoken connection forming.

One weekend, as Shoto worked on his training routine in the living room, Mochi decided to participate. She playfully swatted at his shoelaces, darting around him in a display of agility that mirrored his own. A small smirk tugged at Shoto's lips, and he found himself engaging in a playful dance with the energetic kitten.

You, capturing the adorable scene on your phone, couldn't resist sharing it later. "Looks like Mochi is teaching you a thing or two."

Shoto raised an eyebrow but didn't deny the truth in your words. Mochi had indeed become an unexpected mentor, reminding him of the simple joys in life and offering companionship in moments of solitude.

As their connection grew, Shoto started incorporating Mochi into his daily routine. Whether it was a quiet moment of reflection, a shared glance during meals, or an impromptu play session, Mochi became a source of comfort and joy for Shoto.

One evening, Yuki found them curled up together on the couch, Shoto absentmindedly stroking Mochi's fur while she purred contentedly.

"I guess you're officially a cat person now," you teased.

Shoto merely glanced at you, a small smile gracing his face. He couldn't deny the warmth that blossomed within him.

Their cozy little family, consisting of an icy-hot hero, his girlfriend, and an adorable cat named Mochi, found harmony in the unexpected bonds that formed. And as the trio shared quiet moments together, laughter and love echoed through the apartment, proving that even the coldest hearts could be thawed by the warmth of feline companionship.

[jojobaimagines]

Man, it's been a long time! There are ads on here now? Jesus. I've come back briefly because a really kind person has bought me a kofi :) I cannot thank you enough <3 It will go directly to my kitty's treatment! Well, you said you wanted anything Ogata related, so i'll write some headcanons of...

·Ogata as your bodyguard:

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

-Honestly, why did he accept this job? Was it monetary reasons, was it an obligation? The most probable answer is that it's for his own benefit, for one reason or another.

-He doesn't really care about you. On the beginning. He makes it clear that he keeps you alive only for the sake of a succesful mission.

-Ogata will be kind of rough handling you on dangerous situations. Or, well, in situations in general. Anything from pushing you to avoid you getting shot, tug you out of someone's way, letting you fall down and trip as long as he knows you won't get badly hurt... He gives you a shit-eating smile when he sees you on the ground after you tripped on some branches...

-Oh, but he is the only person that will be able to handle you that way. Or any way. He is incredibly overprotecting (oddly enough for you) and won't let anyone even lay a finger on you. If you are ever with the group and sees, say, Shiraishi put his arm around your shoulder, he will harshly grip his wrist, twist it, give him a death stare and sternly warn: 'Do not touch them.'

-He will grow attached to you due time. In his own, traumatized ways. He denies it though.

-No matter your size, he will have no issue in picking you up and carry you if you are being stubborn or annoying and you need to go somewhere else. 'Such a pain..'

-'I'm a delivery boy.' 'YOU WOULDN'T DARE-'

-He is really manipulative on his ways of reminding you how weak and fragile you are. You need his protection, after all. What would you do without him? Die, most likely. You need him.

-Ogata will have no issue in killing for you. Actually- ask him to kill for you. Make him kill for you. He will, of course, assure you he only does it in order to keep you safe. He would skip the part of the thrilling sensation of his commintment towards you being so strong that he gets chills in knowing he is taking a life for your sake.

-He will constantly have his eyes on you. Maybe you don't see him. But he sees you.

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

Phew! I'm quite rusty, it's been a while since i've written anything! I hope these headcanons are of your liking, kind kofi donator <3 I'm glad you like my Ogata content! And to anyone reading this, have a great day :)

-Lettuce

[armysantiny]

12:44 – 재민 (Jaemin)

P: Jaemin x female reader | G: timestamp, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff | Inc: office au, lunch breaks, established relationship, descriptions of self-loathing, planning dinner, Jaemin offering to pick y/n up from work | Wc: 463 | W: self-loathing| R: G

Min's notes: fun fact I literally started the word doc at 12:44 on Thursday :D this whole fic is self-indulgent honestly, I needed this on the day, bc this was exactly how much lunch break went haha. Just without Jaemin.

There’s an ache in y/n’s chest as she slumps into the booth. The office is awash with conversation, her colleagues all walking past on their way to the cafeteria. She’d join them, on a normal day, and bask in the reprieve it grants her away from her desk. But today, she just can’t seem to bring herself to get up, to go and join the general office population. Not when her chest is tight and coiled with self-loathing, a thick sludge that coats every part of her brain and body.

She just can’t do it today.

Lunch itself doesn’t seem all to appealing anymore, and she sets her lunchbox aside, silently grieving the lack of appetite while she downs an iced coffee, the second caffeinated beverage she’s had today. Maybe that’s what’s toying with her, y/n’s mind supplies, subtle palpitations aching to prove her threadbare theory right.

But the HR admin’s had more coffee without any adverse effects, and the true culprit of her turmoil taunts her again. It’s almost pathetic, how easily her train of thought slips into cruel lies, reminding y/n by the second of her imagined incompetence.

Always bothering them, always wasting everyone’s time. Utterly useless human being.

Her phone’s ringing. Her personal phone. The call’s answered before y/n can think about letting it ring out, a whisper of desperate hope that wants whoever it is on the other line to either save her from her thoughts or put her out of her damned misery. One way or another. She isn’t picky.

“Hello, my love,” Jaemin hums, his voice bright and cheerful and undeserving of y/n’s inner misery, “I’m picking up some things for dinner tonight, how’s work going?”

“I..” and the words clog in her throat, suffocating her with the threat of burning tears until she can force them out. “I think I’ll head home early today; I need a break.”

And on the other end, in the middle of the supermarket, Jaemin’s face knits into a frown, concern making a home in his chest. Y/n didn’t sound like she was upset that morning, but now? Now it sounds like the love of his life is fracturing around the edges, desperate for salvation of any kind. He needs to get a move on, hurry home and make sure everything’s in place to give his girlfriend the tenderness she needs.

He can start with a simple offer, however.

“Do you want me to come pick you up when I’m finished with the shopping?” Jaemin offers, standing in line for the cashier. He waits for an answer, counting the seconds as they drag on, each long and—

“Please, Min. I miss you..” Y/n’s voice hovers through, and Jaemin’s plans are set.

“I’ll be over as soon as I’m done, my love.”

© copyright work of armysantiny 2024-2025

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If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @teeztheflag, @jeonqquk, @mikailo666, @kkooongie, @xavi-in-kpopland, @kyuzuberri, @marxenash, @honey-andmilktea | Taglist form

[finniestoncrane]

ILL DO YOU ONE BETTER,,, cooper fic where he's napping,,, WITH DOGMEAT

Companion

Cooper Howard, word count: 600 please my fuckin heart and soul!! man i love introspective things, i love dogs, i love horrible men who can be soft sometimes, i love horrible men who love animals ;-; 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: lil bit of angst but mostly some fluff!

Finally off of their feet for the day, Cooper let out a deep, long sigh. The cool night air was a welcome change from the desert heat they had travelled through, but it was still stifling, choking him. Smothering. Suffocating. Trying to give himself some breathing room, he kicked his leg out to the side, scraping it along the dust, trying to kick up a barrier between him and his new companion.

“Get, boy.”

It wasn’t just the air, no longer sweltering but still somehow thick. It was the presence of someone with him, along for the ride. It had been so long since he’d had someone with him, longer still since that someone had actually wanted to be with him.

And despite trying his hardest to push him away, the dog he had decided to bring along with him was determined to offer itself to Cooper. Like it sensed something in him that he might have been aware of, but wasn’t willing to accept.

So there he sat in the dark, lit only by the slowly dying fire, trying his best to shrug off the affectionate advances of the dog by his side.

“You ain’t him, boy.”

Cooper leaned back in the rusted garden chair by the fire, watching the flames dance as he took one last swig from his canteen in the hopes that the bitter liquid inside would help him fall into an easier sleep.

As he sat he considered the strange, tethered feeling, familiar as it was, of having someone look to him for companionship. He was so hyper aware of all the years that had gone by. Decades, turning into centuries before his eyes. Whether he was blinking in the sun or trying to find anything in the darkness from his coffin underground. Everything that had passed by, everything he’d seen that he never thought he would, that he hoped he never would. The people who came and went, those like him, those not.

Loyal pets. One loyal pet.

He couldn’t add another to the list. Who knew how long he’d be around. Who knew how long he could stave off the feral nature that was bubbling inside of him. A wild beast in a cage whose iron bars were wearing thinner each passing day.

What if he hurt them? Turned before he could take himself away from them? Refused to let him go?

What if they hurt him? Like so many others had.

How many of them had come and gone? In two hundred years, how many people had passed through his life, willingly or unwillingly. It would never get easier, at least it hadn’t yet. But the way that the paw settled on his leg, a knowing whine as the dog pushed him to take the comfort, he considered how much difference it would really make for him to take a risk again.

He slid onto the ground, his body relaxing onto the thin bedroll. And when the warm body of his new companion settled down in front of him, he didn’t push away. He placed a hand into the fur, accepting the warmth, the comfort. Something he still needed even after all this time.

Cooper’s eyes sparkled in the reflection of the flames, wet with a bittersweet sadness that overcame him. Of everyone he missed, there was something unique about the loyal bond of a man and his dog. And Dogmeat reminded him of what he had lost, but what he might gain from softening just a little.

“No… you ain’t him, Dogmeat. But I appreciate it all the same.”

[dira333]

Fall - Sakusa Kiyoomi

Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader - Season Series

By the time he’s twenty-four, he thinks he’s heard it all.

He’s been named arrogant, stuck up, selfish. Other students have called him difficult to work with, and the girls he tried dating told him he was too complicated to be around.

But no comment ever struck him as hard as yours.

“You remind me of the Fall.” You tell him over a cup of tea, amidst the chaos of a whole volleyball team devouring Onigiri.

He’s left speechless and unsure.

All he knows at the end of the night is that you don’t mind seeing him again, your number saved in your phone, the color of your eyes burned into his mind.

.

He doesn’t dare ask what you meant. 

But he dares to ask for a date, dares to step out of his apartment after worrying for two hours that over half of his clothing could remind you of a season he’s not sure he wants to be compared with. 

Fall is the season people say they like but they only like certain aspects of it.

They like the pumpkin spice and the colors but don’t want the rain.

People claim they like fall but complain when it arrives and celebrate when it leaves.

.

Sakusa huffs impatiently when he arrives, realizing that he’s twenty minutes early to a date he’s no longer sure he wants.

What if you’re just like the others?

Claiming you like him like others claim the like fall? 

He knows his worth, his strengths, and is familiar with the beauty and the ugly parts of himself.

Not once has he compromised his self for others, has gone through life true to himself.

He can deal with having no partner but he cannot take another false claim.

.

You’re fifteen minutes early to their date, your face partially hidden by a thick scarf in bright autumn colors.

“Hey!” Your smile is infectious, he can feel a similar one tugging on his own lips. “You’re early too?” You ask and there’s a soft giddiness in your voice that he’s starting to crave.

“What do you want to do?”

Your eyes go big at his question.

“Oh? There’s a park down the corner from here, I passed it via train and the trees are turning yellow already. Do you want to take a walk first? Do we have the time?”

“Sure.” 

His hand finds yours, no gloves separating the warmth of his hands from the coldness of yours, or the softness of your skin from his roughness.

He blushes red like the trees around him.

-🍂-

If anyone would ask you, you’d call fall your favorite season.

Spring is loud and attention-seeking, bursting at the seams with colors.

Both Summer and Winter are dominant in their respective temperatures to the point where you need a completely different set of clothing for each of them. 

But Autumn is different. 

Autumn shows its beauty quietly, undisturbed by attention. 

The leaves will turn their colors if you watch them or not, satisfied with themselves and themselves alone. 

Autumn is a time of movement, but it’s not the rush of spring or the slow trickle of summer. 

Autumn is its very own thing, uncompromising in itself.

You like that about fall and you like that about Sakusa.

.

Sakusa, who does not apologize for what he wants. 

He wants to be left alone in a crowded room. 

He wants things to be clean and words to have meaning.

Don’t tell him you love him if you don’t love him completely.

But if he’s sure of your sincerity, he’ll lay down his life for you.

-🍂-

By the time he’s thirty, Saskusa thinks he’s heard it all.

He’s been named exceptional, talented, a genius on the court. He’s won matches and prizes, the respect of his Coaches.

But no compliment ever strikes him as hard as yours do.

“You remind me of the Fall.” You tell him in front of all your family and friends.

“You love me with the calm passion of autumn, with the dedication of a season that changes the lands.”

Sakusa did not have to change his ways to be loved, just like autumn never changed.

All he needed to do was to be himself patiently, trusting you’d come along.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[redfoxwritesstuff]

For Eternity, Chapter 5 of 13 (Alastor x angel!Wife!OC)

Alastor x Angel!Wife Oc (Isabel) Rated: Adult - this fic contains content inappropriate for minors. Chapter Warnings: Discussions around consent in relation to the porn industry and contractual obligations.

@impulsivethoughtsat2am Was darling enough to beta <3 Many thanks, Dearheart.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord. And my friend runs a Hazbin Fic Community

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

~~~~~<3

“You are going to tell me exactly how you know that name,” Alastor’s antlers grew, branching out as his shadow rose behind him, looking somehow even more eager to rip Angel’s limbs from his body than the man it belonged to. “And you are going to do so quickly. Am I clear?” 

“Alastor, calm down.” Charlie tried to step between Alastor and Angel only to be swept aside by a shadow, earning him Vaggie’s ire. 

“Enough, Alastor!” She was likewise ignored as Alastor loomed, joints popping as he grew ever so slightly. 

“Tick Tock. My patience is wearing rather thin.” 

“She told me, alright? What’s it to everyone, anyway? She’s just a angel.” Angel Dust took a slow step back, toward the bar, in an effort to put some space between him and Alastor. 

“What, exactly, is the nature of your acquaintance with her?” 

“She’s just Vox’s new plaything. Damn, can I go get a drink now?” Angel took another careful step. For each step he took, Alastor grew and morphed, staying close without actually staking a single step to do so.

“And what, dear Princess, do you know of this?” As Alastor’s attention redirected to Charlie, Angel took his chance to retreat to the bar. 

“Last night, we saw a picture of Vox leading someone into his tower that looked a lot like her.” Charlie was talking fast, torn between the guilt of not telling Alastor sooner when he so obviously cared much more about the news than she had expected and the fear that he may lash out at one of the residents. “I was waiting for Angel to come home, I wanted to see if I could confirm it before I talked to you about it.”

“And so you choose to wait?” Alastor asked calmy in contrast to the flickering lights and dancing shadows in the parlor. 

“Yes!” Charlie wanted to believe that he had understood.

“To ensure I understand the matter clearly- You had reason to believe my wife,” Alastor’s voice rose at those words before calming again as he continued, “Has left her Heavenly home, come to hell and the cherry on top,” again his voice began to climb as his eyes became glowing dials, “She appears to have fallen into Vox’s hands? And you elected to not tell me right away?” 

“That,” Charlie stumbled over her words, “That does sound accurate.” 

“Splendid,” When Alastor determined he had everything Charlie could tell him, he turned to find Angel had already made himself scarce. That’s alright, Alastor was sure he’d get his answers.

~~~~~<3

Isabel had never in her life felt so exposed. Not even on her wedding night had she wore clothes such as what she was forced to wear now. Valentino was angry as he dressed her, displeased to find fading bruises on her thighs. 

He accused her of lying but it didn’t matter, some tall white stockings and no one would see the large handprints above her knees. Vox lurked in the shadows, the glow of his digitized face giving away where he was. It was a ever present reminder that he was there, he was watching and he was ready.

All she had to do was say the word and he would swoop in and save her, he promised. 

She’d never say those words he so badly wanted to hear from her. This humiliation had to be endured. It was one thing to be unwillingly taken and another to willingly give herself to another man. 

Off to the side, Angel Dust paced. He wouldn’t even look at her. Right now it was just costumes, tonight it would be filming. Her heart ached for the man who was already being eaten alive by guilt. He shouldn’t be, it wasn’t his fault. She would never blame him for what he was forced to do or hold it against him. 

Wrapping her wings around her to shield the front of her body from view, Isabel clutched the robe around her as she walked timidly across the floor. It was cold under her bare feet, sticky in places where drinks or God knew what else had been spilled. 

“Hey,” Reaching out, she let her fingertips graze his shirtsleeve to get his attention. Everyone, everything still terrified her but Angel Dust reminded her too much of a kicked dog to ignore. 

“Heya,” He plastered on a smile that looked fragile and fake. 

“Are you alright?” Isabel spoke softly, terrified she’d bring attention to herself and someone would want to check how well she filled out the lacey garments she was stuffed in another time. 

In the distance, Vox and Valentino discussed the scenes and different clothes options. Vox spoke loudly, animated, intending for her to hear. It was another power play, intended to pressure her into changing her mind. 

“What? Of course I’m alright, Toots!” He pulled the smile wider on his face but it quickly deflated when she only looked at him with her caring eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you know I don’t want this? And because I know you don’t want this either?” She spoke softly. 

“They want me to rape you, you do realize that?” Angel flopped a pair of his hands to his sides in frustration. How could she spare a thought to care about him. “You don’t want this and unless you change your mind, that’s what this is going to be. They’re going to make me be a part of this.”

“I forgive you,”

“I haven’t even done anything yet.” Angel struggled to keep his voice down, instead pulling her by her upper arms into his dressing room. How long they had before Val came looking, he didn’t know but he thought they’d have at least have a few minutes. Vox was more interested in her deciding against the film and agreeing to whatever his deal was. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Angel was pleading now, leaning down to be on eye level with her. “Please, don’t make me have to do this to you?” 

“I’m not going to betray my marriage.” She took his lower hands in hers as she smiled at him. 

How could she smile at him when they were talking about the very real possibility of her upcoming rape. He couldn’t do this. Fuck, he’d rather face Val’s anger for refusing. He’d- wait-

Alastor was married. Vox didn’t like Alastor. Alastor all but lost his shit when he heard her name. Angel Dust put himself out of his misery for the night prior with every drug in his stash, bailing out of the hotel while Alastor questioned Charlie after only a single drink. 

“What’s your husband’s name?” 

“What?” 

“Just answer me,” Angel Dust’s eyes were wide and pleading. 

“Alastor. His name is Alastor.” 

“Fuck me,” Angel Dust ran a hand through his hair, “When did he die? Tell me everything about him.”

“I don’t- he outlived me.” Isabel struggled to follow Angel Dust’s change of mood. Panic and hope swam in his eyes. “He had brown hair, darker skin-” 

“No, no-” Angel Dust waved the information away, “We all change when we get down here. Tell me what he liked, what he was like.” 

“Smiles, he seems to always be smiling. Loved music, he hosted a-”

“Radio show.” Angel Dust finished, “Fuck me.” 

“How did-?” Angel cut off her words, shaking her softly by the shoulders. 

“I know him. Fuck, I LIVE with him. Shit. Shit, it makes sense-” 

“You know him?” Isa grabbed at the lapels of his top and pulled herself up closer to him. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve gotta go,” Angel Dust pulled himself away from her. Her wings flexed behind her as Angel Dust suddenly wouldn’t look at her suddenly for fear that he if he looked anywhere he shouldn’t he would end up on the next broadcast. 

“Angel Dust,” Isabel reached out, snagging his hand as he rushed to the door. “What happens now?” 

“I’m going to go to the hotel,” Angel Dust rounded on her, wrapping her up in four strong arms. “I’m going to talk to Alastor. Val is going to be pissed when he realizes I’ve left, I’m sorry- he’s probably going to take that out on you. I’ll be back tonight- if Al dosen’t put me on his fucking broadcast-”

“What does that mean?” 

“I’m absolutely not opening that can of worms with you right now,” Angel Dust gave her one last squeeze, “I’ll be back, with Al or with a plan. If I can avoid doing tonight, I will. I don’t think- with how he reacted just hearing your name last night, I don’t think he’ll let tonight happen.”

“What-?” 

“Not important. What’s important is that you need to play nice with Vox. Buy time and do not give him what he wants.” 

Angel Dust slipped out of the room, leaving the door cracked open behind him. He moved with stealth she wouldn’t have expected out of his thin but massive frame. He slipped between people, props and wardrobe racks with the practiced ease of someone who had decades of experience. 

“Where are my Angels?” Valentino called, voice warbling. 

Isabel took one last deep breath and walked out of the dressing room, wings once again tucked around her front. “I’m here,” she called timidly.

“And the other one? I saw you two talking.” 

“I don’t know?” Isabel made a show of looking around. 

Valentino thought for a moment before visibly shaking off the thought and focusing again on her. He grabbed her wings with both sets of his hands, pulling her wings away from her body. The grip was painful and pulled a few feathers from the flesh. 

“That set is very good for starting out. It’s not like it’ll stay on long. Or maybe it will,” He sang the last few words. “Keeping some of it on could be hotter.”

~~~~~<3

Angel Dust burst through the hotel doors, “Where’s Alastor?” 

“Waiting for you,” Alastor rose up from the shadows, clearly already in a terrible mood. 

“Yeah, yeah- I gotta talk to you.” 

“Wonderful, I’ve been waiting to speak to you for hours and yet you’ve been off doing all manner of things when you’re the only one who’s seen *my wife*.”

“That’s what I’m here to talk to you about, Smiles. Either kill me now or let’s fucking talk because I have to be back there in a few hours.”

“Speak, then.” 

“We should have this talk in private,” 

Alastor rose an eyebrow as his smile twitched. He held out his arm, microphone tipped cane in hand as direction to take the conversation up the stairs and away from the lobby. Angel Dust lead the way until they were standing in the hall.

“Come along,” Alastor directed, taking the lead as he lead the way to his door. He didn’t particularly want to invite the spider into his personal space but he had been right, this was a conversation deserving of privacy. 

“Interesting decor choices,” Angel Dust said as he stepped into the half room, half bayou. 

“Tell me everything you know.” 

“Vox has her. He wants her. He knows she still considers herself married, she’s made that very clear but he wants her. He- I’m pretty sure half of the reason why is because of you.”

“Has he harmed her?” 

“Not yet, at least not physically.”

“Elaborate,” Alastor ordered before Angel had even had a chance to do so.

“He’s been tormenting her, trying to break her,” Angel hesitated before continuing. “She’s strong, did you know that?” 

“Indeed, to have a smile on her face and remain kind through the times she lived through took strength.” 

“She’s using all that strength right now,” Angel paused, taking a deep breath. “Please don’t kill me for what I’m about to tell you? Can we make a deal where you don’t shoot the messenger?” 

“Fine,” Sickly green light flared quickly only to recede. It was a minor deal, evoking only a touch of Alastor’s power. 

“Vox is letting Val use her in a film. He’s trying to use that to break her. That’s why- that’s how I know her,”

Alastor interrupted, “Use her how, exactly?” 

“He wants to make a porn with her. He wants to use me, to make me-” 

Alastor’s jaw twitched as he held up a hand, stopping the flow of Angel’s words, “When?” 

“Tonight. Al, I don’t want to, you know that, right? I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to do that to anyone, let alone her. Even if she wasn’t yours. Forcing people is all fun and games when it’s an act but she doesn’t want to. She only wants you and I’m not about forcing anyone. Not for real.” 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @preciousbabypeter, @catticora, @alastor-simp, @alastorthirsty

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Sorry- Chapter 2

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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WORDCOUNT: 2,365

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“I take it you ran into Jon.” Ishana said as she took in the scowl on  Dominique’s face as she stomped over to where Ishana was waiting for her in the lobby. “You’re late but you look good as fuck bestie.” Dominique smiled and gave a little 360 turn before giving Ishana a hug.

“ I do not want to talk about Jonathan tonight. Tonight is about us having a good time. No relationship talk.”  Dominique said, the scowl returning to her face as she and Ishana walked over to where Kayla and Carmella were waiting for them. 

“What happened?” Dominique huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “The same thing we’ve been arguing about for weeks. He got upset and stormed out of the room.” Dominique shrugged, looking into one of the mirrors in the hotel lobby fixing her hair. “Ready to go?” She asked her group of friends, only to turn around and see the three of them giving her the same disappointed stare. “What?” 

“You’re acting like you don’t care that your fiance stormed out on you.” 

“I don’t” Dominique deadpanned, rolling her eyes when Kayla, Carmella and Ishana shared a look. “No relationship talk" She reminded Ishana. "So” She said, clapping her hands together, bringing her friends attention to her, “Are we going to the club or not?" 

It was a Friday night and the club was damn near packed with their fellow WWE employees’ and with groupies that heard that the WWE was in town. Dominique rolled her eyes and she and her friends walked past another group of women and heard them squealing about ‘Roman and The Usos being there’ 

So he is here. Dominique thought to herself as she looked around to see if she could catch a glimpse of him. Clearing her throat she turned her attention back to her friends. She did not need to think about Jon tonight.. Tonight was supposed to be a Jon free night. She was there to have fun and that’s what she was going to do. 

“I'm going to get our drinks!” Dominique yelled over the music as she and her friends found a table for them to chill at. Her friends nodded and rattled off their drink orders. 

As Dominique made her way over to the club she had gotten the attention of three individuals in the club and one of them decided to not waste any time and walk over to her. 

“Damn sis” Josh laughed, as he leaned against the bar next to Dominique. “You tryna’ have twin bust a blood vessel or something.”  She rolled her eyes and pulled him into a hug . “You know he's here right” Josh asked to which Dominique nodded. “You see him yet?” 

“No and I’m not looking for him. I just wanna have a good time tonight.  He nodded and took a sip of the drink in his hand, eyes darting over to where Dominique assumed Jon was, watching them before returning his gaze back to her. From where she was standing she could see the 'RAISE YA ONES FOR THE BLOODLINE.’ sign and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was so corny and thirsty. 

“I feel you. But we got a section if yall wanna come over and chill with us.”  He said, paying for her and her friends first round of drinks and going back over to his section. 

“Uce! Yo Uce!” Josh yelled over the music as he made his way back over to where Jon was talking with Kofi. He was happy as hell Dominique showed up here tonight. He needed to get Jon and Dom back on good terms not only for their sake but for his as well. He loved his brother to death, but he was sick and tired of listening to him bitch about Dominique. 

“What happened Josh, You good?”  Jon asked him, turning away from his conversation with Kofi to look at him. 

“Dominique’s here.” When Jon just shrugged, Josh continued. “Aye Uce, I understand you mad at her right now but- “ 

“But nothing, Josh,” Jon sighed. “You’re the one who told me to come out tonight to forget about my problems with Dom and now that we’re in the same building you changing your mind?” Jon scoffed and shook his head. “Just drop it Uce.” Josh sighed and nodded his head. “Thank you.” Jon turned his attention back to Kofi and finished their conversation. 

Josh sucked his teeth and walked over to the railing that overlooked the dance floor, Jon and Dom were perfect for each other in Josh’s eyes, and he was going to do everything in his power to get the both of them to see that they needed each other. His started to look for Dominique, and smiled once he saw her but his smile dropped when he noticed who had snaked his way next to her. “Fuckin’ Orton.”

Ishana looked at Randy in confusion as he slid up next to her and Dominique on the dance floor.  “What the fuck” She mouthed to Dominique who shrugged in return. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.” Randy said, smiling down and Dominique. 

“Oh, yeah well you know.” Dominique said with a shrug. “It’s Friday and my friends wanted a night out.” 

“Can I buy you a drink?” He said, pointing towards the bar and before Dominique could answer, Ishana interjected. 

“Actually, we were just leaving.” She said, trying to grand Dominique’s hand and lead her away from Randy. 

“No we weren’t.” Dominique furrowed her eyebrows at Ishana, ignoring the look she was throwing her way as she released herself from Ishana’s grip. “And I could really use a drink.” Dominique grabbed Randy’s hand leading him away from a confused as fuck Ishana. 

“I’m guessing you and the fiance still not talking huh?” Randy asked and when Dom cut her eyes over him, he pointed to her bare ring finger. “I know he paid a fortune for it so y’all gotta be fighting for it to not be on your finger.”  Dominique sighed and rubbed her bare finger. 

“Yeah, I uh- I threw it at him this morning after an argument we had.” 

“About what?” Dominique narrowed her eyes at him as the bartender placed their drinks down in front of them. “Oh, come on. We used to be really good friends when you were Hunter’s assistant.” 

“Fine, He said that loving me was like torture.” 

“No.” He gasped “Why did he say that?” Dominique sighed and picked up her drink, throwing the whole thing back, ignoring the burn it made in her chest. She had made it her main goal to not talk about her relationship with Jon tonight but it seemed like Randy wasn’t letting it go. 

“He wants to get married right now but I don’t want that. And yes it’s been nine months but who cares about that? Why can’t he just be content with us being engaged right now? “ 

Randy nodded as he took in her words. “Listen, i’m about to break bro code right now but, Jimmy loves you to death. When I'm actually in the locker room all he ever talks about is you and how he can’t wait until he gets to see you walk down the aisle and to finally be able to call you his wife.” Dominique blinked back tears as she listened to Randy. 

“This feels very planned.” She said with a watery laugh and Randy laughed too.

“I mean, I did run into him on the elevator earlier and he gave me the same rundown you did.” He chuckled lowly when she rolled her eyes. ‘Listen, I know when two people belong together. And you two belong together. Take it from me. I’ve lost the love of my life being stupid and indecisive with her.” Randy pulled Dom into a hug. “He knows that you're scared but to be honest love is scary but all he wants from you is to show him that you want to get married, go look at dresses, show him some venues or something.”  Randy gave her one last hug before finishing his drink and placed a 20 dollar bill on the bar top then walking away. 

Dominique sucked in a deep breath as she looked around the bar for a sight of Jon, Josh or Joe. It was time to apologize to her man. 

Josh was talking with Ishana about when he spotted Dominique walking towards them. “Here comes Dom.” He said and looked in the direction where he last spotted Jon, his heart dropping into his stomach as he noticed Jon and one of the bottle girls were way too close to each other, and Jon had his hand on her lower back. “The fuck.” 

“You better go over there because if I do imma take that bottle she holdin’ and wack his ass upside his head.” Ishana said as she glared over at Jon. While they were staring at Jon they didn’t notice Dominique had come and stood right next to them and was looking at Jon as well. 

Jon smiled at the bottle girl. He leaned closer so he could hear what she was saying. 

“You’re so much cuter in person” She whispered in his ear, and warning bells went off in his head but he ignored it. If Dominique didn’t want to marry him maybe this girl did. Dom did tell him to go and find someone else right? 

“Thanks baby girl. What’s your name?” He said, flashing her a smile. 

“Kendra.”  He went to say something else but someone bumped into her causing her to trip into him and push him onto the couch with her landing in his lap. He wrapped an arm around her waist so she wouldn’t fall.

“Shit you alright?” He asked her, the fall causing him to spill his drink on her. He tried to help her wipe the liquid off of her but she waved him off. 

“Yeah I'm good.” She bit her lip and looked at him through her lashes. “ I know this is very forward but can I have your number or I can put my number in your phone.” Jon hesitated before handing her his phone. Watching her type her number into his phone felt wrong. The whole interaction felt wrong and he wanted to immediately delete the contact when she handed him back his phone. 

“You gon text me right?” She asked, biting her lip and Jon nodded his head. 

“Yeah imma text you.” He lied. Satisfied with his answer she smiled at him. She stood up off his lap when one of her coworkers called her name. She bent down and kissed him on the corner of his mouth. 

“Wow.” Jon felt his stomach drop. He stood up and turned towards Dominique who was looking at  him with pure disgust. Josh and Ishanna were standing behind her. Ishana looked like she wanted to kill him and his own twin brother was looking at him in disappointment. 

He opened his mouth to say something but Dominique scoffed and stormed out of the section with Ishana hot on her heels.

“You know for being nine whole minutes older than me. You sure are dumb as fuck.” Josh gritted out. 

“That was your girlfriend or something?” Kendra asked, looking in the direction Dominique went. Jon didn’t answer her, he rubbed his hand down his face groaning. 

“That was his fiance.” Josh said, turning his lip up at his brother.  Kendra shrugged and turned towards Jon. 

“Oh well, Don’t forget to text me.” She said before winking at Jon before walking away from them. Josh sucked his teeth and looked at his brother again. 

“Man, whatchu’ still doing here. Go get Dom.” He said but Jon just shook his head and sat back down. 

“I’m too drunk to deal with this right now.” Jon groaned and picked up another shot, downing it before grabbing another. 

“Dom, wait!” Ishana called out, trying to keep up with Dominique. 

“Go back inside. I’m fine.” Dominique said as she wiped some tears that fell.

“No you're not. I’ll go back to the hotel with you.” Ishana watched as her friend wrapped her arms around herself, a telltale sign that she was about to break down. 

“Ishana please, go back inside. I’ll text you once I get back. Promise.”  When Ishana didn’t say anything Dominique looked up at her. “Please.” She pleaded again. Ishana sighed and nodded, giving her friend a firm hug before going back into the club. 

“Out of all the idiotic shit you’ve done over the years. This one takes the cake!” Ishana yelled at Jon. He ignored her and continued to push through the crowd, trying to exit the club. Ishana went to yell at him again but Josh grabbed her arm.

“Chill, he knows he fucked up.” Josh said, but Ishana wasn’t tryna hear it. Josh didn’t see the look in Dominique’s eyes, they didn’t see how broken she looked waiting for her uber. 

“Nah, fuck all that. He needs to understand how bad he hurt her.” 

“Chill.” Josh said again “ He knows.” Ishana just rolled her eyes and continued to walk outside. Already texting Kayla and Leah to let them know what happened. 

“What you gonna do Uce?” Josh asked, watching Jon lean against the outside wall of the club. Jon shrugged, 

“Go to sleep and talk to her tomorrow at the show.” Ishana scoffed, causing Jon and Josh to look over at her. “I’m fucking drunk Ishana. And I'm sure she’s not completely sober either. If I go talk to her, it wouldn’t end well.” 

Ishana scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine, you better make this right Jonathan.” 

Dominique quickly thanked the uber driver before hurrying into the hotel and up to her room. She let out a sob as soon as she shut the door. This is why she didn’t wanna get married. After wiping her makeup off her face and changing out of her dress she crawled into bed and cried herself to sleep. The only thought in her mind being that her relationship was over and it was technically all her fault. 

Whew... Trying to add Randy into this chapter was hard as hell and that's why it took so long.

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

[finn-writes-stuff]

If you're still in a Legend of Vox Machina mood, could I request how Percy would react to a girl Tiefling s/o ,who loves to sing and dance, singing with Scanlan? Jealous Percy is adorable. Love everything you write. Will give you a kofi after I get my paycheck(this is not a bribe)

To Cut In

Dancing with your best friend is all fun and good until your favourite gunslinger starts feeling left out of the fun.

Percy de Rolo x Fem!Reader

Fandom: The Legend of Vox Machina/ Critical Role

Format: Oneshot

Female Reader

Masterlist

Asfghjkl thank you so much. I had fun writing this! And bribes are never required but always appreciated <;3

The party had set up camp for the night and spirits were high after a battle that had been much easier than expected. Keyleth had a warm fire going and the twins were whittling arrows in the orange light. It was amazing how some days a camo like this really could feel like a home away from home. You were happy, in an easy way that often felt so far away when adventuring. Scanlan had struck up a tune and was swinging you around with him, laughing whenever either of you stumbled. There was a tilted crown hanging from your horns, the gentle buzz of magic reminding you that it was one of his illusions.

There was so much joy in this, in belting out a cheesy love song and trying to make the other party members smile when they watched you. Pike and Grog were both cheering you on, and dissolved into giggles as Scanlan attempted to dip you, despite the height difference. It really just led to you precariously wobbling before you managed to get back to your feet.

"So, are you desperately in love with me yet?" Scanlan asked as the verse ended, winking at you.

"Not quite, you'll have to try another song."

"I've got some that'll be sure to have you head-over-heels, just you wait." You knew he was joking with you. With the way he kept glancing past you at Pike's laughing face and with how you had both bared your hearts to each other, explaining your separate pining over white-haired party members. But it would never stop him from joking about stealing your heart, and spinning around in the firelight with him was fun. He was your best friend here, you wouldn't trade that for anything.

So it caught you off guard as someone caught your wrist, pulling you out of Scanlan's arms. The cool leather on your skin told you who it was even before you turned to meet Percy's eyes, the familiar sharp green. Behind you, Scanlan ended up tripping back, set off balance by your sudden disappearance.

"Scanlan has had plenty of chances to dance with you. Would it be too much to ask for one for myself?" His tone was calm and collected but you could see the set of his jaw. It was the same as when his gun misfired too often or when he ended up dragged into a plan he didn't agree with. A frustration that he often kept under tight wraps. He was always loath to let you see it from him, but you'd learned how to read his cues.

"No, no it wouldn't be. Although most men wait for the other dance to end first." It was a gentle tease, questioning his swift cut-in.

"I'm afraid the bard speaks quicker than I do. If I waited, you would be in his arms all night."

"'The bard' is right here, you know! And if you want any music, you'll ask nicely after that stunt. My ass hurts!"

The slow raise of an eyebrow was so incredibly Percy that you couldn't help but grin at him. He was just as ridiculous as everyone else here, whether he would admit it or not. You cherished his dry sarcasm, especially as you noted his amusement in turn.

"If you could 'please' give us a song, Scanlan? I would appreciate it."

You had a sneaking suspicion that the only reason Scanlan listened was due to how he had nearly ended up in Pike's lap after his stumble, but either way, the music started again, mellow and sweet.

"Let me lead?" Percy asked gently, a hand resting softly on your waist and the other catching your own. "I won't just about drop you as he did."

"Scanlan still caught me, no harm no foul, right?"

"I'd say that it's better to be in good hands in the first place." He squeezed your hand and you were lost for a moment in his intensity. Percy was a person who did nothing by halves and who seemed to throw himself headfirst into his passions. He looked at you with that same sort of devotion.

"Better hands? Like yours?"

He smiled, just this side of smug, and you were done for. Gods, his stupid smirk, you were in love with him.

"You said it, darling, not me."

Percy was a graceful dancer, and it was so different than the chaos of dancing with Scanlan. He swept you across the ground as if it were a polished ballroom floor. And when he dipped you, his hand was steady and strong at your back. Your face was warm and your tail was swishing behind you contentedly.

You felt as though you belonged here, spinning in his embrace with his eyes drinking you in shamelessly. He was so often subtle and restrained in how he charmed you, but this was an impulse, a show. He wanted to be clear about his fondness for you, so that the whole party understood, not just you.

So it was clear that you were his and that he was yours in turn.

You wanted to kiss him so badly, but you knew it would be inevitably followed by wolf whistles and heckling from your friends, even if they weren't giving you their full attention.

Instead, you indulged yourself by memorizing his features, setting them in stone in your head. You already knew them perfectly, of course, with how often he was in your dreams. But there was hardly any harm in enjoying the view.

You were lost in your reverie until Scanlan's voice cut through your thoughts.

"Are you going to kiss her or not, Percy, we're dying over here!"

You flushed and went to tell him off, but you didn't get the chance before Percy's hand was on your chin, tilting your head to look at him.

"May I, darling?"

"I- yes, yes you may."

You found that the wolf whistles were worth it if kissing him would be like this every time.

[amoristt]

a/n: yaaay back with part 2 hehehe. im glad you guys r enjoying it so far! i have big plans for this series

- as always comments/reblogs are appreciated! - want to support me? heres my kofi!

The Accused | Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader, Pt 2

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The hours that followed Ghost leaving you to your own were brutal. It took a few long moments to collect yourself, all tears and trembling hands, but eventually, your legs found the strength to haul your body up to your feet. Your mind replays the last couple minutes on loop tauntingly.

If Ghost hadn't caught you in time, you'd be nothing but a broken egg on the pavement below. Your brain tried to think about what it would have felt like if you had plummeted without haste, but your body reminded you angrily how it felt to hit the wall on your way down. Surely, deep bruises of purple and blue would climb like vines up the side of your frame. Your body would make sure to ache, to remind you of the damage you'd inflicted onto it.

Damaged, but alive.

It feels odd being alive, now. You really had made your choice, fully accepted the gravity of your life cut short. Perhaps it was cowardly. But, ultimately, you knew that it would have been the better outcome between death and eternal imprisonment.

Still, guilt eats away at you. The image of Ghost's eyes through his mask haunts you- that primal fear in those beautiful eyes engraved in the back of your brain. If he hadn't been as fast- if he'd hesitated for even a second, you'd have slipped right through his fingers. You'd have dropped all the way down to the unforgiving concrete and ceased to be right in front of him. It hurts you- the thought of him grieving you like that. Surely he would have hated you for it.

When night came (rather quickly), you took your chance to escape. Wherever point 'A' was, it wasn't so nearby you couldn't scurry down those five flights of stairs and dart into the darkness. You ran from bush to bush, building to building, and even through a knee-deep marsh. You were grateful that this October was warm, but you would be lying to say you appreciated the bugs. Mosquitos ate away at your skin despite your efforts to battle them away.

You'd only been a few miles away from base, so it wasn't long before you were skirting along the trees, staring at the mile-high electric fences surrounding the fort you'd become so familiar with. The base you and Ghost had been staying at was a nice one- with all the fixings and even single-person 'homes'. They were small, one-bedroom trailer-looking flats with all the basic necessities, but compared to the places you'd slept before they may have well as been your own little personal heaven. Warm water and an AC unit-they'd spoiled you and your fellow soldiers. You remember on your first night, cuddled up under the blankets on your very own bed, praying they'd keep you stationed here for the rest of your military days.

But, now, here you were, creeping along the greenery, feeling more foe than friend. From outside, you could see military vehicles parking for the night and soldiers standing guard. Sneaking up on your own base, your own friends, you really did feel like a spy. You linger outside, wondering what to do.

Then it hits you.

And you know exactly where to go.

You disappear back into the trees. It's barely another mile out, but with just the moon overheard to guide you, you struggle to find your way. You pass by trees and boulders of every size, before you enter a small clearing, and tucked all the way to the side is exactly what you were looking for. A dingy half-finished shed engulfed by the canopy of trees and shadows.

And god, there he is, standing there and waiting for you.

In this light, Ghost really does look like he could be a monster. His mask nearly glows. Half covered by murky shadows, dotted by the glowing streaks of the moon passing through the leaves overhead, he stands and waits for you. Like he knew you were coming.

And he was right. Because here you were.

You snap a twig on accident and his body visibly tenses as he searches for the source, but when his eyes find your figure in the darkness it only takes a second for him to realize it's you.

"Been a while since I've been here," you start. He moves to the side as you pass him. The door opens with a dull creak.

"I'm glad we both had the same idea." Ghost grunts.

"You're telling me. I had to ditch my phone and everything, so if you weren't here I'd have no way of contacting you. And y'know what, that's two phones in two months. Talk about bad luck." You sigh.

"Never did find you're old one, hm? Not good, soldier."

"Oh, I'm sure it's lost in the ocean or blown to bits by now."

Ghost scoffs. "Hope so. Get inside."

When you'd first been stationed at his base, boredom often ate away at you until it felt like you'd go crazy. Ghost had been off on his own mission, the few friends you did have at that time never left the base of their own volition. But you, on the other hand, craved exploration. So you found yourself wandering the perimeter around the base, thinking about nothing and everything. That's when you discovered the beat-up old shed. At that time it was nothing more than a caved-in roof, rain-soaked flooring, and a broken window. Over the course of a couple weeks, you began to work to fix it up, glad to have something to focus on during your between-missions time.

When Ghost had returned to base during Christmas, and he realized that you too had no home to return to for the holidays, he began to join you.

Over that Christmas, you both turned it into somewhere you could both go to talk and occasionally share a few drinks. That was when you'd truly bonded with him. That was when he'd finally started letting you in willingly.

Dirt flecks off the frame of the door as you step inside, and it's just as dusty as you remember. Two chairs sit in the center with patchy blankets serving as cushions. An uneven table sits between them, one leg broken half off but supported by water-logged books stacked atop each other.

The moon filters in through the cracked window and paints the brown walls a beautiful blue.

Ghost sits with a grunt, kicking his feet out and sighing. It invites you, calls you in to shut the door behind you and settle beside him. So, you do. The chair creaks underneath your weight and you breathe out the frustrations of the day, gone into the air. For the first time that day, your guard lowers.

You just... breathe.

"What a nightmare this is." You sigh.

Ghost shrugs. "No one knows what 't think. They know something's not right."

A pang of relief visibly flushes through you, cut short when he shakes his head.

"Don't get too excited." He says quietly.

"...And why's that?"

"Graves called in his shadows." Ghost taps his finger against the table, lingering, picking and choosing his next words while you feel anxiety start to bubble within you. When he speaks again, it's forlorn. "He isn't exactly pushing for 'em to bring you in alive."

The weight of your heart dropping could have burst straight through the chair you sat on. It settles into your gut like an awful stone. A dull, pained chuckle escapes you.

"I knew he didn't like me, but damn."

Ghost shakes his head. "He's panicking. Thinks you can tell us where the missiles are."

"Missiles?" You ask, eyebrows raised in concern.

It must have struck him then, that Ghost hadn't yet updated you on the situation arising off-air. And judging by the way he tenses and leans forward in his chair, it must be pretty grim.

"Hassan... He's got our missiles. Three of 'em." As Ghost speaks with newfound hesitation and urgency, you can feel your nerves lighting up with each syllable. "We can't find the damn things. They get out... 'Lot of people will die."

"Jesus Christ." You wipe your palms down your face, eyebrows knit together. "How the hell did he get our missiles?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out. 'Pparently there's some messages and photos of you chatting with one of Hassan's men. That you might know a thing or two on where to find 'em."

"I haven't talked to anyone that wasn't our own." You groan. "God, what the fuck. And pictures?"

"From what I heard. They haven't shown 'em to us. Refuse to, actually." Ghost leans back in his chair, eyeing you like he's holding something back. "Like I said, no one knows what to think."

You stare down at your lap. Though you already know the answer, you find yourself asking anyways, with an uneven voice.

"...You trust me, right...?"

"God's sake." He scoffs, and you regret asking at all.

"I just have to be sure. Pictures can be convincing-"

"Pictures none of us have even laid eyes on. You think I'd be here right now if I didn't believe you?"

Guilt eats away at you, eyes downcast. "I know. I'm sorry. I just... I can't wrap my head around why of all people it had to be me."

"We'll find out. Shepherd won't give us hardly any information, and anything he does give us is... vague." Ghost is choosy with his words. "...Shepherd found and turned the evidence in himself, supposedly."

You feel an actual strike of nausea pulse through you.

"There's no way Shepherd would frame me." Though you try to say it with an even tone, your voice exposes your lack of confidence in your General. You suck in a breath when there's no reply. "Ghost..?"

Ghost doesn't answer, but his eyes do flick to yours. A silent, cautious confirmation.

You swallow. Hard.

"But... But what good could come of this? I mean up until now I've been an exemplary soldier. Like, not to brag here, but I graduated at the fucking top of my squad and I damn well aced every test they threw at me."

"I know all this." Ghost chimes. "Everyone knows all of this. I don't know what the big plan is. I don't even know if there is a big plan. I just know something isn't right."

There's a pause, and his eyes soften.

"I know you wouldn't do this."

Tears well at the waterlines of your eyes and you struggle to hold them back. With the military against you, Shadow's snapping at your heels at every chance they could get, and now faced with the chance that your own fucking general would frame you, you're completely unsure of what to do next. Ghost leans over the table and sets a firm hand on your shoulder.

You bite your tears back, refusing to let him witness you cry again. Twice in one day was just too much on your already shattered ego.

"What do I do?" Your voice betrays you, uneven and breaking.

Ghost stands up and sighs. "You aren't doing anything. You're staying here."

"For real?" You frown up at him, pawing at your eyes angrily. The sight of him preparing to leave makes your stomach churn- the thought of being alone in this shed all night slinking into your mind. "I can't just sit here and do nothing-"

"That's exactly what you're gonna do. Get some rest, tonight." Ghost doesn't even give you the chance to argue, already pulling the door open. You gape at him from your chair with wet eyes. You see the way he lingers, see the way he considers stepping back inside, but his resolve remains firm. For just a brief moment, he turns to look at you from outside.

You sit on the chair, bringing your knees up to your chest. Sounds from all directions reach your waiting ears as you take a final glance at him.

"I'll be back in the morning." He offers. The door shuts, and darkness encases you.

Shrouded in pitch black, listening to the sound of his footsteps growing further and further away, you fear tears sting your eyes once more. All alone, you let them slip down your cheeks.

You'd never felt so alone.