#anyway there's a lot more work to do but i love him your honor and i wanted to share

[callsign-rogueone]

i had no idea Sawyer had that much game. he now has all my respect LMAO

let us not forget that he canonically bagged Rhiannon, the baddest of them all. I know it was a one time thing and they may have both been a little drunk, but still.

with him and peach, half of it is his game (he’s such a gentleman to her and that’s hot. he himself is also hot. tall, and those rider’s muscles, his relic...) and the other half is a few things: the depth of their emotional connection since they’ve been friends for fifteen to twenty years, that peach isn’t a rider and therefore finds the fact that he is one much more attractive than if she was one herself (nurses always love a man in uniform), and also that peach is just always ready to go (let the fmcs be horny, your honor!)

hopefully you will see all of those things in the two (2)! sawyer and peach smuts I am working on; one that I skipped over in iron flame when they’re at riorson house (the first time in their relationship) and the other in onyx storm after he gets discharged from the infirmary and they have some privacy for once…

It’s only been a month and a half, but with the frequency that the two of you were going at it during your stay at Riorson House, it may as well have been a year — the loosened restrictions on who was allowed in whose rooms and the lack of classes for you to attend definitely lent themselves to a lot of afternoons spent on your knees, and evenings spent in all sorts of positions. A few of them are off limits now, with his condition, but there’s one that will definitely work, and a favorite of his, too: you sitting in his lap, and doing most of the work. He deserves to relax, anyway.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

been working on a nowhere-near-complete design of beast!ricky for an AU where he's an asshole wizard who's been cursed, and i like it so far, so have a sketch in case it disappears into my WIP folder for eons. it started out as a toa changeling AU design (because they're fun to make and it was bound to happen sooner or later), and then recently my furry monsterfucker ass decided to take it further and make it into its own thing. not least because toa changelings don't tend to have coats and beafte ricky needs to be Fluffy

it's been fun so far trying to translate things like his body type onto a different framework without losing the integrity of Him Shapes, and i'm both dreading and looking forward to doing the same for a fantasy setting version of his outfit. (i am so bad at outfit design. i am So Fucking Bad at it. but by god i'll do it for him)

[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt 3*

—synopsis. hamzah invites you over to be in their new video

—warnings!: freaky uti, dry humping, undressing

notes 🫧: the fight was so tuff, i’m a die hard noob

—🐞

you parked your car outside hamzah’s house, fixing your lip gloss and zipping up your sweater before going to knock on his door.

him and martin invited you to be in one of their sims videos since mandy was on vacation and they knew you played as well.

it’s been around two weeks since you and hamzah made out in his car. since then, you’d been texting a lot more and you hung out twice with mandy and martin. though, you haven’t done anything to continue what he started.

hamzah answered the door with a grin, “come on in boi, we haven’t started playing yet. martin’s still connecting the camera and the mic” he closed the door behind you.

you felt something brush against your leg, looking down to see his cat rubbing itself on your leg. “awwww he’s so cute” you reached down to see if he’d let you pick him up.

when he did you held him in your arms and rubbed behind its ear. “which one is this?” you asked hamzah. “this is blue. red’s probably upstairs somewhere clawing at something.” he said, reaching over your arm to pet blue.

“i had to put a child lock on my fridge cause they figured out how to open it bruh” he shook his head.

you giggled looking at him with a smile.

“oh hey y/n, didn’t know you were here already. i just finished setting up the camera” martin said. “heyy” you put blue down on the floor, following martin.

“you ready to get your sims on?” he asked. “try freaking born ready” you giggled, hamzah following behind you.

you sat off to the side on the couch in hamzah’s office while they started the video. “hello everynyan-” hamzah interrupted him “dude what” “it’s like a meme like have you ever seen it? it’s like oh my gahhh” martin awkwardly repeated the video, hamzah stifling a laugh. “anyways we’re back and better than frigging ever” martin started off.

“now it has been a while-“ “definitely been a while-“ “right, a while since our regularly scheduled programming” hamzah said. “i hope you guys enjoyed the fight, we worked super hard literally for like six months”

“and you may realize we’re not in our usual spot, wanna tell them why that is?” martin said. “yes we are, we’re in my house this time because mandy’s on vacation and martin, feeling like a sad little lonely boy wanted to come over and play with me”

“yes mandy is gone. she is in spain right now because she doesn’t love me anymore. you know what they say, ‘go to spain when your lover’s a pain’. that’s why she hasn’t proposed to me yet in the big year of twenty twenty-five” martin went on. “literally nobody says that”

“but speaking of mandy, today we’re playing the sims. something we haven’t done in a long time and we need a little bit of a refresher” “yes, the sims is a girl game and since we don’t have mandy, we brought back up” hamzah added.

“yes, we obviously cannot play this game ourselves so we brought in another expert” they looked at each other before counting down from 3 and snapping their fingers. you knew they were gonna put some silly transition effect over this.

hamzah got up to get another chair for you “you good?” he asked you, making sure you were comfortable. and you nod your head before sitting between them. “hellurr. yes i am mandy’s back up today. because obviously, they don’t know what they’re doing so im taking over.”

“dude what is it with girls and the sims. only girls know how to play the sims” martin and hamzah riffed while you logged into your sims account.

“now this is your first time on here y/n, how do you feel in the presence of such greatness” martin asked. “well im honored to be on but i don’t know about ‘greatness’” you joked.

after two hours of creating sims and making them kill, cheat, fornicate, and find love, they ended the video. “banger video alert” hamzah turned the computer off. “uhh yeah that was really good if i do say so myself.” you pat yourself on the back.

the three of you lounged around hamzah’s living room for another hour after that. “are you guys hungry?” hamzah asked “i was gonna order some food” “actually i still have some packing to do for my flight tomorrow” martin sighed while playing with red. “oh shit right, i forgot” hamzah shrugged.

“i’m gonna head out now bro i’ll see you next week” he dapped hamzah up before doing the same to you. hamzah followed him out before closing the door behind him.

“i could eat” you shrugged and hamzah smiled. he pulled his phone out and ordered chick-fil-a, adding in your order.

you sat criss crossed on his couch as blue jumped into your lap, snuggling up against you and purring. “his ass definitely likes you” hamzah chuckled.

“do you want one?” he asked, coming back from his bedroom with a little jar of edibles. “sure” you reached to grab one with your nails.

hamzah grabbed one too and you tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion before eating them.

you soured your face and gagged “okay these are nasty oh my god” you laughed. “yeah they taste like butt but they do the job. the food should be here in like twenty minutes” he said, joining you on the couch.

you helped him review the footage from the video before he sent it to their editor. by now the edible was beginning to kick in and you were growing hungrier by the minute. his door bell rung and he got up to answer the door.

he came back holding the bags of food up with a smile on his face and plopped down onto the couch, this time much closer to you, legs and arms touching.

“fuck i’m starving. is that shit kicking in for you yet?” he asked, handing you your sandwich and fries. “oh it is” you grinned.

“have you ever had the mac and cheese?” he asked you. “no i usually go for the fries” “okay here you gotta try it.” he took some on his fork and put it in front of your mouth, paying close attention to the way your lips wrapped around the fork. “right?” he nod his head at your reaction.

“wait here, you’ve got some cheese on your mouth” he said, brushing your lip off with a napkin. “oh..oops” you giggled through your slowed words.

the two of you tore through your food, turning on family guy in the background. “that was so fucking good” you looked at him, eyes low and red.

“right…..i’m stuffed.” you slowly sipped on your milkshake. “do you ever think about what they do with the cut out pieces of fries?” you asked, just chatting. “i always wonder but they probably just throw them away.” he added.

you leaned back into the couch, cross legged, knee resting atop of hamzah’s as he put his arm on the back of the chair behind you.

he slowly rubbed your bare shoulder that peeked from under your hoodie that was falling off. you leaned your head back, resting it on his arm before looking at him.

“so, are we just never gonna talk about it again?” you addressed the elephant in the room. “hm?” he looked at you. “the kiss, are we just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

“no of course not, i just wasn’t sure if i had made you uncomfortable so i didn’t wanna push anything again” he shrugged. “hamzah i kissed you back for a reason. i wanted it” you reassured. “and i still do” you said, looking away for a second.

he grabbed your chin, turning your face back to his before kissing you. you leaned into the kiss, rubbing your nails at the back of his neck.

the room filled with your mutual satisfied sounds, hamzah pushing his hand up under your sweater. he laid you down against the couch arm, keeping himself steady atop of you.

he slowly pulled the zip down, taking off your sweater off, you willed yourself to follow his lead, wrapping your arms around him. he broke the kiss, “you good, right?” he asked. “yeah, keep going. i want you, hamzah” you reassured. he kissed you again before lining kisses down your jawline and throat. he sucked down on your skin “wait don’t leave any hickeys” you said through a moan.

“too late” he let out a breathy laugh, making you giggle. hamzah let out a soft noise at the feeling of your nails rubbing through his hair. he slowly eased his up under your tank top, reaching up he grabbed a handful of bra. “here, hang on” you sat up, taking off your shirt and throwing it by your sweater. you fiddled with your bra clasp and eased the straps off your shoulders, letting your boobs rest.

hamzah stared at them, mouth agape. “that was a push up bra by the way, so don’t be too disappointed” you joked. “how would i be disappointed. you’re fucking hot” he pulled you atop of him and kissed you, hands firm on your ass.

he kissed down the middle of your chest before his mouth latched on. you sighed in satisfaction when he rolled his tongue.

you subconsciously grinded your hips on his, feeling him grow. “fuck” you winced. you stayed in that position for a while, dry humping each other as he kissed and sucked all over your upper body. you felt yourself getting needier by the minute. “hamzah-“ you started before being interrupted by a knocking on the door. “dude let me in, i forgot my wallet” it was martin.

you looked at hamzah before getting up. he kissed you “go to my bedroom, i’ll be there in a second” he told you and you smirked before leaving the room.

hamzah let him in “ugh thank you, i was worried you fell asleep” martin said, spotting his wallet on the side table.

hamzah looked over his shoulder realizing your shirt and bra were still thrown around on the couch. “imagine i went all the way to spain and forgot this just sitting here” martin chuckled before turning around, hamzah missing the chance to let him not to.

“oou you got chick-fil-a? anything left?” he looked inside a bag before he came face to face with your bra. he turned around, jaw dropped “dude!” he gasped and hamzah grinned.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantasfic, clairedrakee and others

lvryn alright who pressed fast forward on my weekend 😂

mandys_iphone cute

user HELLO? is this a soft launch?????

ynlover omg this and how touchy they were in the sims video last month, they’re definitely dating ?)!(!;$:

— 🐞 the end

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

[cameronsbabydoll]

SCC reader and Rafe at one of his fancy business dinners. For additional context, this is probably also probably when readers on her 2nd pregnancy, so she’s just irritable and uncomfortable but still showed up with Rafe to keep up appearances.

Rafe and his buddies are drunk chatting somewhere, talking about work and normal guy stuff. Then the conversation shifts to their home/personal lives ie marriages. One man is talking about his wife’s new promotion, the other one she’s started a book club, etc…they’re all drunk talking abt how they love their headstrong and independent wives. Rafe is just sitting there, nursing his drink, listening to how they talk about them, like they’re people.

He never talks about reader like that, not about her really, just what she does for him “she’s a great mom, an amazing wife, or she’s beautiful”

Then he glances his eyes over to the wives talking by the bar, except you. you’re just sitting at the table, by yourself, hand rested on your belly, checking your phone (probably texting the nanny), trying to look occupied while you’re just waiting for the dinner to be over.

He makes eye contact with her and she sends him a small, tired smile that doesn’t meet her eyes and promptly decides to take her home. (she’s been faking a lot of smiles recently, he’s noticed.)

On the way home it’s quiet. She’s always quiet now. He brings up the new book club that one of his buddies mentioned, suggesting that reader likes a lot of those types of “girly books” and could join and have some sort of friends (ones that he could monitor and approve of).

The mention of it immediately makes Reader just breaks down sobbing about how she doesn’t fit in with any of the wives, how they’re older and college educated “established ladies with actual lives”. How they think she’s just a “dumb kid who got knocked up by the first rich guy to throw her a smile.” and maybe she agrees with them, reflecting on how she didn’t get to go to college or develop as a person before she had kids. She’s just in this cycle of isolation and self loathing that got worst after she got pregnant.

Rafe tries in his own weird way to comfort her(he’s not very good at it) claiming that she doesn’t need those “old broads poisoning your mind anyways”

She just sighs into her seat looking at the window and tearfully just says “I just miss her. I don’t have anyone… not anymore”(referencing her old best friend)

The rest of the ride is silent. When they get home, maybe Rafe tries to be extra sweet to reader during bed time(giving her a bit more physical affection bc god knows that girl needs a hug) maybe he tries to reassure her that shes not just some girl who got knocked up, she’s his wife. Like it’s some badge of honor or something. She just responds with “because you wouldn’t let me be anything else”

nothing else but yours

warnings: emotional neglect, isolation, emotional/verbal manipulation, references to pregnancy, identity loss, subtle controlling behavior, depressive themes, disillusionment with marriage, hinted age gap, power imbalance, soft angst

a/n: part of my sugar-coated chains series

the dinner is loud. fake laughter and expensive wine. your feet hurt in the heels he picked out, your belly’s heavy with the second baby, and your smile is wearing thinner by the hour.

you sit alone at the table, trying not to look like you're just waiting. hand resting on your stomach, phone in your lap. you scroll through texts from the nanny. check the time. sip water. anything to stay invisible.

rafe’s across the room with his partners, scotch in hand, tie loose around his neck. they’re all red-faced and slurring, bragging about their wives.

“she just got promoted to senior partner.”

“mine’s running a book club now, gets the whole neighborhood involved.”

“god, i love how bossy she is—she tells me what to do and i listen.”

and rafe just laughs, tight-lipped, swirls the ice in his glass. doesn’t say anything about you. not really.

when they ask, he just says,

“she’s a great mom. gorgeous. keeps the house in order.”

like you’re a job well done. a good return on investment.

he glances toward the bar where the wives are, gold and glitter and loud perfume. but you’re not there. you’re still at the table, slumped in your chair, eyes on your phone, trying not to cry from how swollen your ankles feel.

you catch his stare.

you give him a tired smile.

it doesn’t reach your eyes.

he’s taking you home ten minutes later.

the car is quiet. it always is now.

you look out the window, arms wrapped around your belly like you’re holding yourself together.

he tries. in his own weird, rough-edged way.

“that book club thing john’s wife started—you like those girly books, right? maybe you could join. make some friends.”

you laugh once. bitter. sharp.

“i don’t fit in with them.”

rafe blinks.

you never say things like this.

“they’re older. they went to college. they did something with their lives,” you mutter. “they look at me like i’m just some dumb kid who got knocked up by the first rich guy who paid attention.”

you wipe a tear away before it falls.

“and maybe they’re right.”

rafe shifts in his seat, jaw clenched.

“don’t say that.”

“i didn’t even get the chance to figure out who i am,” you whisper. “i just became yours. that’s all i ever got to be.”

he doesn’t know what to say to that.

because it’s true.

you stare out the window and say, quieter,

“i just miss her. i don’t have anyone… not anymore.”

and he knows you mean your old best friend. the girl you used to laugh with. sneak wine coolers with. dream with.

the rest of the drive is silent.

when you get home, he helps you out of the car without being asked. brushes your hair back. undresses you slowly. kisses your shoulder when he pulls the nightgown over your head.

he holds you longer than usual.

hand on your belly. lips against your spine.

“you’re not just some girl i knocked up,” he murmurs. “you’re my wife.”

you close your eyes.

“because you wouldn’t let me be anything else.”

[kyeomiez]

i know many of you do not give a damn and that is a problem in its own regard but i am posting this in hopes that those who are unaware and who value their morals and their integrity over music will hopefully take something from it.

this seventeen album should be boycotted at all costs. i have been a carat for seven years now and i have a lot of love (as well as frustration) for these guys. i am endlessly proud of them for making it ten years in an industry designed to tear them down and wear them out, to take everything from human beings that it can— and then some. however i cannot allow this to overshadow the negative things surrounding this album, nor should you.

i will preface by saying that seventeen will not see a huge impact from a boycott. they make pennies on the dime per stream, $0.003 cents. seventeen are also far past comfortable financially, they are by all means rich, particularly woozi. they will be a-ok. this will not cause any damage to them outside of potential bruised egos, which is an unfortunate impact however not more important than the overall issues.

i also want to say that we know that boycotting is an effective tool to put pressure on companies to change their ways, but it needs to be an organized effort. it's not something you do for a few months and give up. it's also not something you pick and choose with — you don't avoid streaming songs and then buy a lightstick from the weverse shop because it was pretty, or attend a concert.

that said, you all should be boycotting hybe anyway. this is for multiple reasons. first is their employment and collaboration with people such as scooter braun, a staunch zionist who was outright thanked by the official israel twitter account. when scooter braun found out he was on the zionists in music twitter account, he said it was an honor and he never could've dreamed of such a thing happening to him. scooter braun has a long, problematic history i would encourage all of you to thoroughly research.

hybe has also recruited artists like johnny goldstein to work on their tracks. he is credited on enhypen, illit and txt tracks, and he has also worked closely with j-hope of bts. johnny goldstein is both a ccfp member as well as a former iof soldier. he is quite literally a child murderer and he is sitting in rooms with your favorite artists. that should infuriate you.

if that is not enough, consider the level of overwork that these artists have faced. seventeen is on their sixth album in approxiately 365 calendar days between whole group projects and individual unit projects. these all have one common factor: jihoon. he has produced six albums, short or otherwise, in one year. in one year, seventeen has also done one world tour, a japan tour, caratland, and headlined three festivals. does any of this sound sustainable for human beings? they are treated like products by their company, not human beings.

for these reasons there has been a boycott in place for over a year. many carats have chosen to break it out of 'love', but in reality, they are complicit in the mistreatment of their idols.

if none of this concerns you, there are also massive red flags with this current album.

first, bad influence, which makes up a third of the group songs on the album, is produced by pharrell who is a known zionist. in april 2024, in spite of the current social climate and despite readily available information, pharrell chose to accept an invitation to sing 'happy' to iof soldiers at a fundraising event. this is while carats in gaza are packing their photocards up while they flee their homes. pharrell made the conscious choice to be on the wrong side of history.

next, wonwoo's track credits el capitxn, who in march, took to instagram to brag that his company, vendors, produced a song for kanye's album which kanye himself said was based on 'antisemitic sounds'. they worked on the track ww3, which includes verses about epstein island, voting for djt, and 'rockin swastikas'. all he had to say regarding it was that he was 'proud of his boys' and 'they make it happen'.

you either stand in one of three places.

one, you believe seventeen does not have much autonomy. in that event, you should be angry and embarrassed that such individuals have their hands in their music, muddying everything seventeen is meant to stand for. you should not stand for it and the way to make a stand against it is by boycotting.

two, you believe seventeen does have autonomy and they have the ability to deny or to okay these things. if that is the case, you should feel frustration towards them for not doing their due diligence in these matters, when they are thirteen grown men with full, unrestricted access to the internet, when they have been called out for similar behavior before, when at least one of them has to know better. you can make that frustration known by boycotting.

or you don't really care, and at the end of the day you'll always be spineless, a so called 'real fan' who will buy into everything they do and reserve all your anger for those who want them to do better, who consistently call them out, instead of wishing they would make fewer mistakes. you will always buy the albums and the photocards and the concert tickets because you don't have the strength to be anything more than another cog in the capitalist machine. just know that you are not a fan, you are a consumer, and that your blind support and willingness to throw your money at every endeavor ultimately harms your artists before it helps them.

if you do care... take a stand. take a stand against mistreatment and overwork, against seventeen being pushed towards being another mass produced, western pandering act. take a stand towards seventeen's music having filthy hands involved in it everytime you look up. you should be embarrassed, you should be frustrated and you need to do something about it or nothing will ever change.

there should never be a time in modern history where we are proud for our favorite artists to work with zionists and people who shake hands with nazis. there is no excuse.

seventeen will survive losing streams and chart positions. they will live. and maybe their company will learn a valuable lesson for it. we have the power to do something and it's high time we wake up and do it, all of us.

nobody is saying you can’t listen. but instead of opening spotify up, download the tracks from a third party instead. they will be ok, i promise. boycotting takes no effort, it is literally an act of not doing something. if seventeen means something to you, this is how you should express it right now. please, i want better for them and you should as well.

[sleepymothafterhours]

Torture to Love You, Can't Live Without You

Zayne x Reader angst

Reader is not MC, MC Dies so I guess you could call it major character death? Angst with kind of no ending?

---> Part two here <3

Fic warnings: Death, grief descriptions, unhappy marriage but they're literally just grieving,

This fic is not beta read, and has been edited to the best of my ability,

Word Count: 4,000

Divider credit in my pinned post <3

Full fic under the cut, I have a part two planned out if this fic does well,

At the end of the day there was always you and her. You'd never be her but you were content with that, in school she was a good rival and maybe at first it used to irk you how special everyone seemed to think she was but as you got closer you realized she never asked to be treated that way. Tara had introduced you, such a social butterfly that girl. On missions you fought well, you worked together with ease often getting paired up on more dangerous outings. The day she died it was like part of you went missing. You could only imagine how it was for her close friend.

The day she died haunted you like a ghost. It would've been you, i could've been you. She didn't have to do that for you.

She didn't have to do that for you.

You sat in front of Jenna's office with a letter in your hand. You'd been on leave for months, stuck with office work to do at home to ensure you at least got paid so you could live while you were recovering. The time was fast approaching for you to either go back to the field or pick something else. Everyone you knew expected you to go back. In a lot of ways it felt like a dishonor to your dear friend not to. But you just couldn't. No amount of therapy took away the nightmares and so far no amount of meds was taking away the pain in your body from your own injuries. No doctor could clear you for the field with the level of pain you were still experiencing. You didn't want to go back anyway, you were scared. You waited outside her office for her other meeting to finish.

What you hadn't expected was for Dr.Zayne to walk out of that room. Too busy staring at him and wondering why he was here you entirely missed what he was saying to you. "Are you alright?" He asked kneeling down to your level, he held a cup of water out for you. You took it gratefully, "I'm alright. Thank you, Dr.Zayne." You two only spoke in passing, even out with your mutual friends. "I trust you've been well? Since.." He trailed off like it pained him to talk about the accident, you nodded. "As well as I can. That's why I'm here. I'm leaving the field." You said, a hint of regret in your voice. Zayne nodded, by the time his mouth opened to say something the doors to Jenna's office were open, and you were already on the way inside.

---------

That was all you saw of him for a year and a half. You didn't keep up with him, and it wasn't like he actively sought you out. It was probably a miracle you even found each other again. He found you in your favorite coffee shop of all places, after you'd finished teaching your classes. Teaching exhausted you, but it kept food on your table, and in the words of others, ensured you could still honor your friend. Regardless, you sat in your corner of the building sipping hot chocolate and working on a research paper about protocores. You'd written a few things on wanderers, architecture in Linkon, whatever seemed to catch your interest for the moment. You spotted Zayne first, though you almost didn't recognize his face. It was strange how someone could change so much after just 18 months.

Had you changed that much?

Or did you still look the same as you had that day.

The thought of it made your skin crawl and you focused on your computer to get it out of your mind. You didn't notice his approach.

"Do you make a habit to tune out everything around you?" His voice brought you out of it, closing a tab as you looked up at him.

"Doctor, what a pleasant surprise." You said moving your computer to invite him to sit down. "I don't mean to ignore you. I was just focused, I do a lot of work here. Do you come here a lot as well Doctor?"

Zayne gives you a slight smile and you can't help but cheer internally at the gesture, "Please, just call me Zayne." He says, his gaze lingers on you as you slip your computer into your bag. "Don't let me interrupt your work. I should be off anyway." He says moving to stand again, you still don't know why you stopped him.

"No. No trouble at all. You can only read so many articles about the rise of protocore modifications before your head starts to spin. Sit with me? Please?" You don't know why you keep talking and Zayne doesn't know why he's sitting, he really ought to be heading back to the hospital.

Maybe you were both drowning and maybe it was just easier to sink together.

Maybe that was why things happened the way they did.

The two of you talked for hours. It was refreshing the way he didn't bring the accident up. The way he didn't bring up losing her. You suspected it was as much for your benefit as it was for him. After a year and a half of pulling yourself through the trenches you finally found yourself talking to someone who made you feel, normal, it was like coming up for air after being trapped in a lake.

"I am happy to see you well after everything." Zayne says after a moment. "Is teaching future hunters as fulfilling as you found hunting to be?"

The truth? It nowhere close. But you don't hate it.

"It has its moments. I do enjoy what I do. And after everything I.." You trail off, struggling to find the right words. "I'm happy I could find a way to stay in this career. Regardless of what I'm doing." It was the most roundabout way you've ever told someone no, and you can tell that Zayne sees right through it. You wished you could have stayed.

He nods, "Maybe fate will take you back." He said giving you an almost soft look.

"You've written quite a bit about your research on Protocore syndrome right?" You ask, the silence that had drawn between the two of you becoming too much to bear. He nods, "Are you going to the gala in a couple weeks? They're celebrating some of the works that recently came out. I thought I saw you on the list they sent out."

He nods again, "I admit I was hoping to see you there." His ears redden as he says this and you can't help the smile that comes to your face.

"i was hoping the same. Everyone else is some old far or some posh snob who's never actually seen what its like out here, Ya know?" You take a sip of your drink, now long cold, "It'd be nice to have someone there that I know." Zayne nods his agreement to this and the conversation moves on for another hour, until you have to leave.

You thank him for sitting with you for so long, picking up your bag and discarding your drink. He stops you again before you can leave the table.

"Do you wanna go to the Gala with me?" his words make your heart skip and you find yourself nodding before you can even really put thought into it.

---------

Zayne came crashing into your life similarly to the way a snowstorm did, expected but sudden. He was always there in a lot of ways during your time as a hunter, you had enough mutual friends to at least know of him. The transition from acquaintance to friend was so subtle you didn't notice, you met weekly for coffee at the cafe when you could, or he'd find you there after work.

Then suddenly you knew his coffee order, and were taking him coffee and dinner during late nights in his office.

There were nights you would talk, and the two of you would have dinner in his office, you'd never been around someone who was so easy to talk to, Zayne just understood.

At one point you'd stayed to talk so long that you ended up eating dinner together, it was dark by the time you went to leave, and Zayne had insisted on taking you home.

He'd kissed you that night. After months of you thinking he was uninterested in anything more than simply colleagues.

You both got so busy that after you could do hardly more than text each other, it took a month of wondering if he'd meant to do it or not, a month for him to ask you out.

He proposed after four years, conveniently the night before another gala much like the one you'd gone to together before you got close.

Once again you were both being recognized for a lot of your work and researches, him, a deeper dive into protocore syndrome, you, a paper on how Evols affect personality traits and how that can be managed for people with more explosive evols and personalities. You used your relationship with Zayne a lot in that paper, with two completely clashing evols it was hard sometimes to get by.

Fire and ice,

maybe that was a sign you should've thought about before.

---------

You looked like the perfect couple. For awhile you felt like it too. You couldn't tell what happened. The two of you were doing better finally. You honored her every year on the day, holding each other and helping each other get through your grief everyday. You knew he loved you. You knew he loved her and you respected that. You understood as well as you could.

After your honeymoon you fell back into your routine, teach in the day, take Zayne lunch during your time to plan, go home and grade papers until he gives you a call that he should be home within the hour. You made dinner and the two of you spent time together until you fell asleep on the couch. Zayne would carry you to bed despite the countless times that you told him to wake you.

You couldn't pin point the day it all started going down hill. But you knew that it had something to do with the mission that dragged you back into hunting, the intercom ringing in your ears and the voice of an OTTO bot calling for every trained hunter in the building. Every student was to go back to their dorm. You tried, to leave with the students, with a soft spoken, "I don't do that anymore." said mostly to yourself as you followed students out to the dorms.

That was until you heard the cry. A little girl trapped under a building, you ran before your feet could keep up with you, the grace you learned in your training never left you, a hunter caught up with you, a student from a few years back. He helped you lift the bean that had trapped the girl and looked to you for direction. "Get her to safety and meet me a few blocks up." You ran the other way the minute he nodded right towards danger, right where you weren't supposed to be going.

Right where you wanted to be.

After the fight you assisted with cleanup, carefully avoiding the eyes of your old boss as you helped a little boy step into an ambulance. Zayne found you shortly after, sitting on a stump and bandaging your arm, people had begun to go home but the cut was pretty bad and you wanted to take care of it before you left.

"You're hurt." He said kneeling down to take the bandages out of your hands, "This is too tight, let me help?" His voice was soft, you couldn't tell if he was worried, angry or both. You nodded and carefully he unwrapped the bandage and began to clean it. "Sorry I broke routine tonight." you blurted, you weren't really thinking when you said, wrapped up in the crackling of a fire somewhere near you, and his laugh filling your ears. A laugh?

"My love. You're bleeding, but you're sorry for..breaking routine?" He looked up at you befuddled, his hands stopping their work on your injury. You shrugged, "You never cease to amaze me." He said after a moment. "We're going home. And we're ordering whatever you want for dinner and you are going to rest." His voice was more firm than normal and when your boss came over to you finally he seemed to stand slightly in front of you as if to keep her from taking you from him too.

She joked about you coming back, you told her you were just following instruction. The announcement called for all hunters. You politely declined her offer and stiffened when she joked about how you could make more if you came back. Zayne brushed her off for you, saying something about getting you home to ensure your arm healed.

The silence in the car home was almost unbearable. "She's right ya know." You said softly, "I'd make a lot more back in the field." Zayne kept his focus on the road but you could tell the words bothered him.

"We don't really need it. You and I are doing just fine." You slumped back in your seat at his words. "You never did it for the money anyway. Do you want to go back?" He asks and you can't answer right away. The answer used to be no, you used to be too scared but somewhere down the line you missed the danger, you missed the fire you had within you that had dimmed after the accident. Your evol felt suppressed from only being used to heat the forgotten teas you took to work or occasionally to light a gas stove.

You'd smothered your fire as best you could all these years but yet it still seemed to roar within, and consume you with every passing day. The answer should have been no but you couldn't bear lie to the man next to you.

"No." You waited too long to say anything,

"You've always been bad at lying." He's stopped at a light and turns to you to move a piece of your hair, you can see he almost looks defeated when you say nothing in response to this.

--------

If you could have pinpointed the minute, maybe even the second that he had started being distant from you, colder even, maybe you could have prevented it, but it was so hard to realize it was happening when he acted the exact same in public as he had before. He followed his routines almost to a T but he spent more and more time at work. Often coming home to you asleep on the couch waiting for him, until eventually he found you already in bed when he got there, always careful not to wake you when he climbed into bed. You could pinpoint the night he stopped holding you by the way your heart began to ache for it immediately.

It took 3 months to transition back into your old job and ever since it was like you lived with a ghost. He was gone when you woke for work, he was gone when you came home but there was always a dish in the drying rack and a paper on the counter that he had left behind to prove his existence. At least you could be sure he hadn't moved into his office even though every other piece of evidence told you otherwise. The times he was home with you it was like he was on another planet, that was if you could get him out of his office at the house for more than two seconds. His affection had a cold bite to it that made you stop seeking it and when he looked in your eyes it was almost clear all he saw in them was her. His coldness did nothing but make you more persistent at first. But after so long you just grew tired, you loved him with everything in you couldn't he understand that?

You liked to imagine that there was another life where you both weren't so different. But maybe in another life he ends up with her in the end, maybe there's a universe where she isn't a wedge in your relationship maybe you won't be together in this life, not the way you want but in the next... Maybe you just have to wait. What a cursed thin g love was.

He stood in front of you now for the first time in months, Tara had invited you both for drinks after work, a nice little place just a block away from your house, you were gonna walk together.

"You look lovely." He says and there's a flicker of something in his eyes that gives you hope that maybe he's looking at you for real this time, but then its gone. He's looking right through you.

Your response is as calm as you could manage to be, "I'm surprised you noticed."

The two of you left, making the walk there in a comfortable silence. Zayne played the dutiful husband role well. He held your hand, he held open the door for you, took your coat, pulled out your chair. To anyone else he looked so smitten with you, and you him. You shook your thoughts out of your mind, you were here tonight to have fun.

You didn't drink often, nor did you drink much. You figured offering him a sip of your drink would be fine, and he must've too because he took it. The way he scrunched his face in disgust made you giggle, he took a bigger drink than you thought he would. "Here, have some water, are you okay?" You ask pushing a glass of ice water to him. He waves you away, takes the glass and drinks but tells you to focus on your friends.

You forgot how much of a lightweight he was. One drink was enough to get him at least tipsy? It would have been funny, if you weren't concerned.

You'd been talking to Tara. who gushed over the two of you whenever she saw you. "Really i don't know how you two do it. You looks so happy all the time." She's smiling as she speaks, the only time you've seen her without a smile on her face was just after incident, it used to annoy you how one person could be so happy but you found yourself unable to frown whenever she's around now.

"Trust me Tara I don't know how we do it either sometimes." She doesn't know how much truth there is to your words. How this is the first time in almost a year that Zayne has been so close to you. How this is the first time in months you've seen or talked to him for more than five minutes. That this is the first time he's wanted to be around you since you became a hunter again.

+++

Zayne only seems to get drunker as the night progressed despite the fact that he hadn't had anything else but water.

"I think I should get him home." You said giving your friends a smile, you'd paid for your drink, the one you hadn't finished, too busy making sure your husband doesn't fall out of his seat. You help him up, he's not exactly hard to move but the man is stubborn. "Baby c'mon, lets home, I'm tired." He concedes finally at your words and you walk home. He's leaning on you for support the whole way out of the bar, even as you nod to your friends and wish them a good night.

You have to stop for a little while, sitting him down, the air is cold. You try not to shiver. "How'd this even happen huh?" You tease him softly, holding his face in your hands. It feels normal for once.

"I'm sorry my love." his words are slurred and he notices your failed attempts to hide your shivering, wrapping his coat around you clumsily. "I love you." He's looking straight through you again through unfocused eyes.

"Do you." Its not a question. You two walk leaning on each other until you reach the house. You drop your keys trying to unlock the door. When he hands them to you, you hear it. A mistake. A slip of the tongue. Maybe he could claim he was drunk but it was clear.

He'd called you by her name.

You didn't say anything. He tried covering his mistake, you said nothing. Pushing past him into the medicine cabinet in your kitchen you grabbed water and ibuprofen and took some. You slid past his attempts to be close to you guiding him to your room.

He's distraught, you feel like you're falling to pieces. "Lie down." You instruct. "You're not gonna feel good in the mor-" He interrupts you as you're trying to cover him in a blanket.

"Talk to me. Please." He's pleading, his voice breaking, it used to hurt your heart to hear it, maybe it still does but you can't feel anything right now other than anger, you feel like your on fire.

"You're drunk."

"Talk to me." There are tears in his eyes.

"What is there to say, Zayne. You called me, by your dead best friends name." You sit at the edge of the bed. "I can't b angry I know you loved her. I know you want her. I just wish you wanted me the same way." You get up and go to make your way out of the room. You need to calm down, maybe you'll go for a walk, or have some tea.

Flicking the light off you hear it. A quiet sob, and a small "I'm sorry."

You can't help the words that leave your mouth. "Don't bother."

The light is off and the door is shut and you the minute you sit down on a stool in your kitchen island you break down. You felt like two puzzle pieces that fit together just fine but were from two separate puzzles. You took time to put yourself back together, eventually getting up to go to your room, apologize if he was still awake and go to bed hoping to fix whatever rift has been growing in your relationship. Your hand is on the door, you just need to open it.

Your phone rings.

You can see the light come on from your hunter watch in the bedroom.

Ignore it. Go to sleep. Fix this. That's what you're telling yourself.

You answer it before you can stop yourself.

"Hello?" Your voice cracks from your breakdown.

"Hey." Its a newer hunter, you'd been working with her for months. You were too scared to get closer to her but for now you didn't mind mentoring her. "Got a mission. You're on the way can I come get you?"

Her words are so scarily similar to what you told your best friend that night. You turn away from the door. "Let's go then."

How strange the universe was in the way it worked. How strange the parallel was. You put on your uniform in silence. Zayne had fallen asleep as far as you knew. You stopped by his side before you left, kissing his head softly. You don't say anything else as you leave.

Unbeknownst to you. He wasn't asleep, he heard the whole thing. He too noticed the parallels. He wouldn't sleep that night. Or the night after.

He was losing you and he didn't know how to stop it.

You were losing him and it felt like someone was carving your heart from your chest.

Sleepy moths after thoughts: Everytime i went to work on this fic I either got called into work, or my friends wanted to hang out, thats why it took so fuckin long. Hopefully the wait was worth it, Thanks for reading and thank you everyone who supported this fic <3

Taglist: @theink-stainedfolk , @alfredosaws , @sylv-1a , @cordidy , @leighsartworks216 , @midiplier , @melonssoup , @sw3etfawn111 , @dhunhdchrih , @i-messed-up-big-time , @fandomenbylover , @notisekais

@theophxbia cus i know pookie probably wants to read it (ILY BESTIE)

[ahundredtimesover]

Something About You (02) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut (?)

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption, talks of cheating (JK’s ex), minor injury (18+)

Word count: 9k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

Despite your busy schedule, the week flies by painfully slow. You’re thankful to Mo-eum for checking on you and accompanying you to dinner on some days. Otherwise, you wouldn’t get off your laptop screen and actually eat. With the questions given to you in advance, you’ve also been practicing your answers for the panel discussion.

To be able to share your research to a group of people who’ll find the value in it and understand what you and your team went through to get it done is a big deal to you. More than anything, you just want to be able to give justice to the stories of the community you worked with; you want to shed light on who they are and what they’re experiencing.

Saturday finally comes, and after you grab a quick lunch after a field visit, you head home and get your power suit on then wait for Jungkook to arrive.

He’s in high spirits when you enter the car. His students won yesterday’s round of the swim meet again and they’ll be going into regionals next Friday. You’re elated for him, as he gets to share something he loves for the young people he truly feels passionate about.

You know about Jungkook's youth being all about sports. He wanted to become a professional athlete and growing up, he played everything he could. He was a taekwondo black belter and he excelled in swimming and track and field. He thought he’d go to the National Sports University to become an Olympian, but something changed in his senior year of high school. 

One day he just decided he wanted to be a spectator of the sports he loves instead of being in the midst of it. The passion dwindled, he’d said. He was a late applicant to your university and took up Sports Science. He still enjoyed swimming so he joined the varsity team and won local competitions, but that was as far as he wanted to go. He eventually chose a teaching path over being a therapist in honor of his mother who’s also a teacher, and suddenly his desire to share his love for sports with kids like him just grew.

He talks about his students with such joy. It’s definitely different from the way you talk about your passion with such anger and intensity but like he’d said not long ago, you’re both changing lives anyway. Anger can do that. So can patience and commitment. 

You let him talk about his classes to calm yourself down, and you learn that it’s easy with him. You don’t spend time alone with Jungkook as much as you do with Jimin or Taehyung, and you’re finding his presence to be comforting. 

It’s mixed with teasing and nonsense talk and encouraging words. He makes fun of you one minute then tells you to stop biting your lips the next. He makes you play rock-paper-scissors and pinches your cheek when you lose, then goes to a drive-thru to get you a drink and a pastry, even if you insist there’ll be lots of food at the event. 

“I bet you’ll be too anxious to eat before you go on,” he shrugs. “Just get something in your stomach.”

So you agree and nibble on the tarts he buys. The 75-minute drive ends and he drops you off at the conference center. He says he’ll find a cafe or a park to hang out in and that he’ll just wait until you finish. 

You go through your panel discussion and engage in really good discourse with your peers. You feel that flutter in your chest the more you talk about your work and its importance in today’s social and political landscape. 

You stay there for four hours. It’s enough time to entertain other attendees who ask more about your research and to make new networks that’ll be beneficial to your research teams moving forward. You only intended to stay a while so you message Jungkook and let him know you’re ready to go. 

It’s 6:30 PM when he picks you up, and you breathe out a long exhale both in relief and in exhaustion.

“I’m sure you did well. You can take a nap if you want. All the talking and worrying must’ve drained you,” he says.

“It did,” you yawn. “Choose whatever restaurant you want. Just wake me up when we get there.”

Jungkook nods and watches you immediately fall asleep, with your arms reflexively crossing against your chest, as if you’re hugging yourself. You rarely snore loudly but you do this time; it tells him just how tired you really are. He records it for future use, but he can’t help but look at you fondly at how much you give yourself to the things you do.

You’re deep in dreamland when you suddenly feel tapping on your head, then your nose, then a pinch on your cheek. An annoying sing-song voice urges you to wake up. 

You curse under your breath. 

“Is that how you thank your chauffeur?” Jungkook laughs. “Wipe your crusty eyes. We’re here.”

You wake up to find yourself outside a Japanese hotpot place that you remember him talking about last week. You’re surprised he didn’t choose something more expensive, as Jimin and Taehyung tend to take advantage of you paying when you treat them out, but you suppose Jungkook is different in that sense.

“This is dinner,” he says. “There’s a dessert place not far from here.”

“Do I treat you there, too?” You cock an eyebrow.

“Yup. A meal isn’t complete without dessert.”

He flashes you his cheeky, bunny smile.

Never mind. They’re all the same, you think to yourself.

“Fine. That place better be good.”

As you expected, both are insanely delicious. Jungkook’s a foodie and you knew that he wouldn’t waste this free meal for something he’s not sure he’d like. 

He took charge of the hotpot earlier. You don’t recall your bowl being empty and that’s another thing you’re not surprised about him. He likes making sure other people enjoy their food just as much as he enjoys eating.

Your conversations during dinner about your respective weeks continue over dessert. 

His mornings are packed with PE classes for middle and high school kids. In the afternoons, he coaches the swim and track teams on alternate days. In between all of that, he organizes sporting events, facilitates intra-school competitions, makes sure the gyms are well-maintained, and occasionally deals with students with behavioral issues because he’s apparently good at managing them, and they seem to trust him, too. 

He crashes when he gets home, wakes up in time to prepare his dinner, goes back to sleep, then does it all over again the next day. Weekends are really his only time to do things for himself - swim in the community pool, play his video games, or go to the gym. 

“Sorry I hijacked your one other day of leisure and rest,” you sigh, as you finish the last of the black sesame cheesecake. 

“Nah, all good. It was nice to go out for a drive. It’s relaxing for me,” he explains. “Except for when my passenger spends the entirety of it snoring but that’s fine, too.”

You kick his shin in response and he’s used to your violence by now. He barely feels anything anyway. 

“But really, thank you, Kook.”

“Friends do nice things for each other,” he smiles. “Plus, I’m sure there have been times over the years when I wasn’t there for you when I should have been.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know, maybe after your breakups or when you were getting burnout from your other job,” he shrugs. “Maybe even recently when you were so stressed with work.”

It’s a thought he had this past week, as your conversations last weekend triggered memories of your friendship. You’re a constant, as all his other friends are, but you always existed as part of the whole. 

Within your smaller group, you’re the one he’s spent the least time with the most. He and Jimin have been friends since middle school and shared an apartment during university, which Taehyung crashed everyday. He and Mo-eum had a few classes together and he often asked her to teach him First Aid and other things to do during an emergency.    

You were always busy and when you weren’t, he was. He knows the struggles you went through personally and professionally, but somehow hearing you talk about them at this point in your lives made you seem a little unfamiliar to him even if he was already used to you. It’s as if he’s experiencing you and your friendship on its own for the first time, and that’s made him think that perhaps he should’ve been a better friend to you.

“Kook, we were both going through breakups at the same time,” you remind him. “I never expected you to deal with my shit when you were dealing with your own. Plus, you’re literally the one with the stressful job. You deal with kids, parents, other teachers… that’s a lot to handle. We’ve been there for each other every time we could.”

“I guess,” he smiles, appreciative of the assurance.

“For all I know, there have been times when I also haven’t been there for you when I should’ve been,” you point out. 

Come to think of it, there may have been instances when you were too caught up in your own issues to even ask him if he was doing okay.

“Remember the party the night after our graduation?” He asks, softening at the memory. “You kept dancing around me and I remember thinking you were just drunk and being a weirdo but I found out later on that Joo-yun was there and you were trying to make sure that she didn’t see me.”

“Yeah because if she did, she would’ve tried to talk to you and you said you were done with her shit. Keeping her away from all of us was the sane thing to do. I was scared they’d take back my diploma if I pulled her hair because I really wanted to do that,” you frown, remembering how that bitter woman was trying to look for him and you wanted to make sure that Jungkook didn’t have to deal with her again.

“And that last night at your apartment when I told everyone about Si-an…” He continues. “I was drunk but I clearly remember hearing you hatch a plan to go to her apartment and egg her car.”

You both burst into laughter. Twenty-five year old you was  kind of a bitch.

“It was supposed to be her face but I didn’t want to get sued. That’s her money-maker after all,” you explain. “But you know me, Kook. I get angry a lot.”

“I know. And it’s not always a bad thing,” he says. 

“Well, whatever happened or didn’t happen during those times, what matters is that we get to do good friend things for each other this time, right?” You smile. “Although you’ve been doing more of that recently with the driving and all.”

“Hey, you helped me with the research I needed for the youth wellbeing plan that the school asked me to do not long ago.”

“That just took me like, an hour,” you shrug.

He playfull rolls his eyes. He knows you put effort on that regardless. 

But you accept his thanks and assure him that he can always go to you for help in that area.

You finish the last of your drinks and dessert and Jungkook drives you home. 

Your night ends with the relief of the hot shower and your cozy bed.

His night ends with the warmth of the rare hug you give him and the sting of your pinch of his cheek.

It's next Friday when you find a chance to be there for Jungkook this time. Although you doubt he needs you, you think that showing your support would do good for team morale.

You’d just finished an offsite meeting and rushed to the school that you heard the swimming competition will take place. Jungkook’s students made it to the next round after last week’s win, and placing today would mean they’ll have a chance to compete in the nationals. 

You make your way to the bleachers and spot him huddling the kids and giving an impassioned pep talk. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this side of him and it’s nice to witness the often quiet, sometimes cheeky boy you know show this much emotion and intensity.

He finally looks up and spots you, waving eagerly at him in your corporate attire and looking a bit out of place, but somehow you fit right in. He smiles as he waves back and points to one of his kids taking position. 

You cheer for each one and even get the crowd to yell louder when Jungkook’s team places in a race. You’re not really sure how this goes but his students have been performing well and you just keep hollering to encourage them.

Jungkook laughs from where he stands on the bench, even more so when he overhears one of his students remark that he didn’t know they had fans.

“Do we know her?” Another one asks as he gestures towards you.

“I do,” Jungkook hums. “She’s a friend.”

“You’re not even competing,” another one comments.

“Well, she’s cheering for me. And I’m part of your team so that means she’s cheering for you, too,” Jungkook smiles now. 

His students look at you and wave, and you excitedly wave back. Your cheers seem to pump them up, as they all place, earning the team enough points to advance to the next round. 

You meet them after awarding and introduce yourself as the loud auntie. 

“We were surprised because no one ever cheers that loud for us,” one of the kids says. “But Coach said you’re his friend and you’re cheering for him which means you’re cheering for us, too.”

“Well, Coach Jeon cares about all of you and he’s my friend which means I care about you guys as well,” you smile. “But you all did really great out there. I’m sure you’ll do amazing next week.”

“Will you be there again?” One of them asks.

“I will,” you say. “Maybe a few of our other friends, too.”

They look excited and promise that they’ll train even harder. You bid them goodbye and walk with Jungkook to his car, reminding him that you still don’t have yours. It prompts him to tease that you probably only came today so he could drive you home.

“I can find my way, excuse you,” you stick out your tongue. “But a ride wouldn’t be bad.”

“Why did you come, anyway?”

“My meeting ended early. Plus, you were talking about how excited your students were,” you respond. “You did a lot to improve the school’s swimming program and you’re literally their coach, their biggest cheerleader. You need one, too. And that’s me.”

“Thanks,” he hums, flashing you his dimpled smile this time. “That’s actually pretty sweet.”

“Good friend things,” you remind him. 

“So you’re really watching again next week?”

“Yeah! My schedule seems fine. Plus, the crowd’s really interesting,” you say. “I was talking to the women who were there for their sons and brothers from the other teams and they were gushing about the young Coach of the other school who was really handsome.”

“Oh, really? And did you agree?”

“Hmm, I said he was alright,” you shrug.

Jungkook laughs and accepts the honesty. He turns on the engine and turns to you.

“So, where to?”

“This barbecue place,” you say. “Jimin and Tae are meeting us there and Mo-eum will follow after her shift. So let’s go. We’re celebrating you tonight.”

Jungkook’s team was a few points away from placing in the nationals but none of the students, as well as him, was any bit disappointed. They worked hard and went as far as they could; even they didn’t expect to make it all the way here. 

But Jungkook did. Despite his own concerns about stepping up at the start of the year after the head coach took an emergency leave, he knew the potential of his students. They did the sport for fun, but he saw how they committed themselves to it, how they disciplined themselves, and how they trusted and encouraged each other. 

That final competition was a memorable one, especially as he had all of his friends supporting his students who received the loudest cheers from the audience. You managed to get everyone to attend on a Friday afternoon, and when Jungkook thanked you for showing up when you didn’t have to, you teased him by saying that you “did it for the kids.”

The soft smile you gave told him that was only partly true.

That night ended with dinner and drinks with everyone and an unspoken promise between the two of you that you’ll try to be there for each other more this time around. 

That was two weeks ago and he’s hung out with you three times since then. He clocked out later than usual one Wednesday and randomly texted you, and you both ended up having dinner at a noodle house. 

The Saturday after that, you all went to Taehyung’s apartment. You fell asleep, woke up at 2AM, and found Jungkook was still there because your friend insisted that he take you home. 

A few days later, you were craving kebabs and messaged Jungkook, who was always good at finding the best restaurants and food stalls. So you went to one in another neighborhood and stayed until closing.

It’s another Friday night and you, Jungkook, Jimin, and Mo-eum decided to indulge Taehyung and go to this Club to relive your early twenties when you all used to do this almost every week. 

Once you enter, you’re hit with the reality that you are definitely no longer built the same way, as the dress with the heels ensemble doesn't feel that bearable anymore. The crowd is at least around your age, and the place is a lot more sophisticated than you’re used to. The music has more of a chill vibe, and not the EDM sound that nowadays gives you headaches. 

You’d much rather be elsewhere but you spend some of your nights like this because you want to be with your friends and tonight, at least three of them want to let loose and have fun. 

Taehyung is socializing like always while Jimin and Mo-eum are dancing and taking shots on the dance floor. You were doing that earlier, too, but your legs started giving in and you asked Jungkook to not leave you at the cocktail table so you don’t look like a complete loser, hanging out by yourself. 

“Not your ideal Friday night anymore, huh?” Jungkook whispers in your ear over the music. “You look so done with everything.”

“My feet hurt,” you pout. “I wanna drink some more but it’s so loud and so… busy. So many things are happening.”

“We can always–”

“Jungkook?”

It takes a while for the voice to register. It’s been years and it’s something he’s tried hard to forget but once he places it, the mixed feeling of anger and sadness comes rushing in. There are many things he never got to tell her, mostly because everything was so sudden and he just tried to bury it all in hopes of never having to deal with them again. 

But the universe fucks with him sometimes and tonight just happens to be the night when it does.

“Uh, Si-an…” he finally says, the sound of her name tasting bitter off his lips. “Hey.”

“It’s so good to see you,” she says, eyeing him up and down. “It’s been so long! I saw you from the bar and thought you looked familiar and wow, you’ve… you’ve changed a lot. In a good way, of course. It’s so weird because I was thinking about you the other day and I was wondering how you were doing. I wanted to message you and ask—”

“Seriously?”

You wish your tone expressed how pathetic you think she sounds right now and her incredulous face tells you it probably did.

“Oh, you’re here,” she glares at you, her eyes looking offended at your mere presence. “And so are your friends,” she grudgingly says after looking around the Club.

“Is that a problem?” You ask, crossing your arms and moving closer to eye her up and down.

“Let’s just say… you’re not exactly the most pleasant people out there,” she replies.

“Aww, well. We tend to be like that to snakes and shitty people,” you sneer. “And don’t worry, we think the same way about you. Kinda surprised you even have the nerve to walk up here and talk to him after everything you did but then again, I guess being pathetic knows no limits.”

You can tell this provoked her, as her already irritated face distorts into anger but you’re unsure what else she has to say. She’s the one who messed up in the first place.

“Look, you may be friends with Jungkook but you don’t know me to be making claims like that. Whatever—”

“I know you enough. That shit you did says everything about you,” you interject, feeling your blood boiling to a high degree by now with how she thinks she even has a defense. Like she even has the right.

You feel like you’ve really pushed her buttons, as she rolls her eyes and flips her hair as if she’s someone important and you’re not even worth her time. You know she’s about to say something completely stupid and you telepathically apologize to Jungkook for the person you’ll become once that happens.

“You have no right to talk about my relationship with Jungkook,” she bites back. “We had our issues but we loved each other. Things happen and people make mistakes. He was busy and I needed—”

“Oh. Don’t even go there. You know what you did, Si-an,” you warn, your voice getting louder and more pointed now. “Don’t you dare trivialize or justify it. That was all on you so don’t come around here and act like you actually care.”

“You’re the one who seems to be caring too much!” She chides. “Why? You want to impress him by humiliating me? By showing him you can do better? Is that what you’re trying to prove?”

You shake your head in disbelief. You’ve dealt with people like this - the ones who deflect, the ones who can’t deal with the consequences of their actions, and those who think they can just get away with shitty behavior because of who they are. And well, you’ve got to admit she’s still as pretty as she was and she knows it; she’s not a model for no reason.

But still, you can’t stand her accusing you of stupid shit and taking everything she did to your friend this lightly.

“You know what? I actually feel sorry for you,” you sigh. “You finally get to date a good guy for once and then you mess it all up. Jungkook’s one of the nicest people in this messed up world and you know this, but you treated him like crap because you think you could and then get away with it. And now what, a couple of douchebags later you realize what you let go of and you regret it all? You get what you deserve. And you stopped deserving him the moment you betrayed him so cut the crap. No one’s falling for your shit this time.”

You’re panting by the time you finish, as the pent up anger from all these years reaches its boiling point. They may have dated for only a year but you knew Jungkook cared a lot about her. Even if she clung to him like glue whenever he brought her along, you respected their relationship enough to not meddle, although you knew that Jimin and Taehyung had hinted how uncomfortably clingy she was. 

He seemed content. And then she cheated, and that was just inexcusable. 

You remember how sullen Jungkook looked when he announced the breakup, and how he couldn’t properly narrate how he found out. You always thought it affected him so much that he never really talked about her in the three years since then, except when you were at the cabin not long ago. And even then, it wasn’t really much. You can’t imagine what it’s like to be betrayed like that, and for a tender-hearted man like him, you suppose it hits that much harder. 

And so knowing how he’s kept it all in and then seeing her act like what she did was worthy of forgiveness or even another chance, it makes you sick. You’re not about to just stand around and watch her trivialize what she did, so you gave her a piece of your mind, which you think is quite overdue. 

Si-an looks truly offended; she can’t even look in your direction.

“I don’t have to deal with you,” she manages to say, annoyance laced in her voice. 

“Good, because we’re just about to leave,” you say. 

You turn towards the left where the exit door is, not wanting to be anywhere near her, either. But then she speaks again.

“Jungkook, I meant what I said that I’ve been wondering how you are. There’s so much I want to say and I was hoping we could talk.”

Your gaze stays on him, wondering what he’ll do this time. You know he has self-respect that he won’t bend to her will and give her a chance to say whatever she thinks still needs to be said, but your heart still stops at the possibility of him still doing that.

“It’s too late for that, Si-an,” he utters. “I don’t really have anything to say to you. Have a good life.”

Then he grabs his coat hanging over the chair and walks towards you.

“Let’s go,” he gestures towards the door. “Kinda don’t wanna be here anymore.”

You grab onto his wrist to not lose him in the crowd and manage to get down to the lobby of the building unscathed. It’s nearing 12 AM and the Club is just about to get more full, and you know Jungkook enough that he won’t want to be around people after what happened. 

Getting out on the street, you spot a convenience store. He looks a little dazed and you think a different environment is good for both of you at this moment.

“I’ll just buy a bottle of water over there. Is it okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, sure,” he responds, walking to the dangerous side of the sidewalk next to you.

It’s just a block away but you’re reminded of how painful your feet are, now that the adrenaline has waned a bit. He notices and holds your arm for support. You mumble your thanks and sit on the first stool you see and sigh in relief.

He chuckles as he looks at you.

“I’ll get the water,” he says before heading inside.

He returns with two bottles of them, ice cold, and sits across from you. You watch as his eyes flick from one side of the street to another and sip his drink. You’re unsure what’s going on in his mind but yours are flashbacks of what happened just minutes ago and how you lost your cool and called out his ex-girlfriend. Which you now realize you maybe shouldn’t have done.

“I’m so sorry,  Kook,” you finally say, covering your face and bowing your head. 

“For what?” He asks.

“For crossing a line and saying all those things to her.”

“You mean, for telling her all the things I wish I should have?” He replies, prompting you to look up and see his soft smile. 

“When all of that happened, I felt like there was nothing more to say to her,” he says after a beat of silence. “But seeing her again, knowing she wanted to talk now? Maybe there was something to be said, and I kinda just froze and you swept in and said all of that, much more eloquently than I probably would’ve been able to,” he hums. “So thanks, ___. I felt a big load off my chest because of that.”

“That’s a relief,” you sigh. “I couldn’t stand her acting all apologetic and risk her rekindling things with you. But do you believe her? About wanting to talk to you?”

“Somewhat,” he nods. “I blocked her number and unfollowed her everywhere on social media but she was trying to send a message on Instagram the other day so maybe she was honest about that.”

“And you’re not curious about what she wants to tell you?” You wonder.

“Nope. I caught up with a friend who still sees her posts and he said she’s had a couple of boyfriends since the breakup so what you said about reaching out to me a couple of douchebags later… that seemed accurate. I wouldn’t have thought of it that way.”

“Oh wow. I mean, I just made that up but I wouldn’t put it past her to be like that,” you shake your head. “She really might be trying to get you back, then.”

“Her boyfriends before me didn’t really treat her well, so maybe it’s the same this time.”

You know enough that in many cases, that pattern of relationships is rooted in some kind of pain. And you feel a tiny bit bad for Si-an if that’s the case. Jungkook might’ve been really the only one who ever treated her right.

“It’s not your responsibility anymore. You don’t have to deal with whatever she has going on, whatever it is,” you advise. 

“I don't want to anyway. What she did… that changes a person,” he sighs. “It’s not an easy thing to get over.”

He sees your somber face and thinks that with you seeing him like this, he might as well tell you everything.

“The night I caught her with that guy, she got emotional. She’d been drinking and it was her defense but it also made her more honest,” he continues. “That… that wasn’t the first time.”

“What the f—” you start, although you doubt any other curse word would suffice. 

“So yeah, that’s why it was hard to talk about and why I just wanted to forget about it. A part of me wanted to know why she did that. One time was something but more than once? That’s messed up.”

“You know, maybe I was too nice,” you groan. You remove your shoes and attempt to get up. “Let me go back and smack her f—”

He puts his arm in front of you to stop you and laughs. 

“It’s okay, ___. She got the message. She doesn’t deserve our time.”

“Ugh. I should’ve egged her face when I had the chance,” you growl.

He just laughs again and you’re glad it’s a sound you get to hear now. You look at him and see perhaps just a fraction of the pain underneath and hope you could do something to ease whatever is remaining. 

“So, I doubt you wanna get back in there. What if we buy something to drink here and get back to my place? Not unless you want to be alone or something…”

“Definitely not,” he says. “Your place is fine.”

“Alright, let me just tell Tae.”

You call your friend while you and Jungkook enter the convenience store to get some beer and something else a little stronger. Taehyung says that Jimin and Mo-eum are still enjoying themselves and that some of his friends have just arrived. 

“We saw Si-an,” you explain. 

“What! That witch is here?” He exclaims. 

“Yes. And I went off on her so she probably expects you’d do the same. I won’t be surprised if she’s left after that though,” you say. “But Kook and I will just hang out at my place.”

“Alright. I’ll tell Mr. Yang to drive you home.”

“Great. Thanks, Tae. Let me know when the three of you get home.”

“Will do. Hug Kook for me, yeah? He secretly likes those.”

“I will,” you smile, just as Jungkook checks out your purchases. 

You drop the call and inform Taehyung’s chauffeur where you are. 

It’s quiet in the car the whole ride home. You leave Jungkook to his thoughts, knowing that he prefers a bit of time for himself to process things. 

You arrive at your apartment, grab your drinks, and head to your small balcony. It’s quite chilly outside so you take your blankets with you and sit next to Jungkook. With cans of beer and a nice bottle of whiskey - that you take shots of while he drinks it on the rocks - you watch the moon sit prettily on the sky and think it’s not a bad way to end an unpleasant evening.

It’s quiet again for the first few minutes as you both settle in, and it’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“Thanks again, ___,” he says. “And not just for standing up for me but also for saying those things about me.”

“And I meant them. You’re a great guy, Kook, but she stuffed it up so sucks for her because someone else gets to have you now, or whenever. Let’s hope she’s a good one,” you smile. “But also, I’ve literally fought so many of our friends’ exes. That’s kinda my thing. Not that I’m proud of it but you know… I’m the back up when you guys can’t say what you want to say.”

“That’s true. There are those like us who find it hard and—”

“People like me who find it easy to get angry?” You finish. 

“I meant people who can find the words to say and actually say them like you,” he corrects. “Plus, I told you that anger is good sometimes. You’ve always stood up for us and we always appreciate it.”

“Well thank you. The times I did that for myself, it led to my relationships ending,” you bitterly laugh. “But I guess they were bound to.”

“Is that how you look at it? That they ended because you stood up for yourself?”

“I think it changes, depending on where I’m at in life,” you say. “I mean, isn’t that a normal thing? A defense mechanism of some sort? We shift the blame? Or chalk it up to immaturity or inexperience? Or think the relationship just ran its course?”

“What is it this time?”

“Lately I’ve been thinking it’s all of that, all at once. It’s me standing up to them but also probably me being too much, or too impatient. Maybe I had high expectations or I deserved better or maybe we weren’t a good match. Maybe I just wasn’t the right person for them, or for myself, at that time.”

“Hmm,” he hums, sipping his second glass of whiskey. 

He seems to be in deep thought, as he sinks a little deeper into his seat. You let him, as you let your own words linger in your mind. 

How would you know if you’re the right person entering a relationship? How would you know if the other is?  Or better yet, is it about being or becoming the right person? How do both of you get to that point without losing the person that you are?

“I was just wondering if there’s anything I should’ve done differently,” Jungkook says after some time. “So many times before, I kept asking myself if it was a moment or an action I did that made Si-an decide to just… do that.”

“Yah!” You nudge his knee then turn towards him. 

You’re two bottles of beer and three shots down and he’s a little distorted in your eyes but you still see the hint of sadness on his face. 

“Do not for a second think any of that was your fault. She did that. She made that decision,” you exclaim.

“I know, but what if I made it easy? I would pick her up from a shoot at dawn; sometimes I’d drive out of town just to see her for two hours,” he shares. “I was always around for her and maybe she saw me as expendable or too available and so someone she could treat badly and expect would forgive her. But then again, she was always clingy when we were around in public and I wasn’t because I wasn’t like that so maybe I should’ve been the same?”

“Kook, you wanted to be where she was because you liked her; that’s not being too available and that’s not a bad thing. And she just had this complex, okay? Like, she needs people to see she’s wanted,” you explain. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have taken you for granted. Whether you were busy or not around, that’s no reason to do what she did; she’d be loyal either way if she was a good person. And she wasn’t.”

“I guess,” he sighs, unconvincingly.

Wanting to make a point, you turn to him and cup his cheeks with your hands.

“Kook, look at me.”

“I am. And you look like a tomato.”

“Shush, I turn puffy when I’m mad and drunk,” you pout, but you continue.

“You are a great guy, okay? And you care about people. You treat your friends so well so I just know you treat your partners amazingly. You may not be perfect but your exes messed up. And I’m not just saying this because I’m your friend but because I can see it. Don’t ever think that you have to change or dim your shine or be less nice or more clingy to be wanted enough. Because the right person will want you regardless.”

Jungkook meets your eyes to let you know that he’s listening to what you’re saying, and that he’ll keep them in mind for the next time and next person, whenever or whoever that might be. He also wishes you can hear yourself and that you’ll take that to heart, too. You’re all kinds of great things; he just doesn’t know how to express that to you.

“Okay,” he smiles at you.

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay,” he chuckles.

You remove your hands from his face and turn your gaze back to the view before you. You lean your head on his shoulder and he shifts his body to make you feel comfortable. 

“We’re good people, Kook. We’ll find other good people meant for us, too.”

It’s a good thought, as the person who’s right or could become right for him is just out there in the world, going about their life, and completely clueless that the right person for them is out here, just waiting to find them.

It’s 3 AM by the time you and Jungkook decide to call it a night. It felt so long with everything that happened in the Club. You just spent the past few hours finishing some cans of beer and ¾ of the whiskey while talking about random things like your college days and books you’ve read and weird food you want to try and your non-generic fears.

You were close to tears due to laughter for half of it. Jungkook has this charming, playful sense of humor that’s different from what you’re used to with Jimin and Taehyung and it felt comfortable being able to experience him that way. 

You usually spend time with him within a group and these past few weeks of hanging out with just him has been nice. He’s thoughtful and attentive, holding your arm before you fall off your chair and making sure you don’t hit your head on the wall since you keep leaning back when you laugh. He plays along with your jokes and teases you constantly. He also has a quiet wisdom about him that’s very assuring.

To Jungkook, you’ve always been a fiery individual. You’re constantly moving, thinking, and talking. You have this burning passion for good things and you’re not afraid to speak out about them.

You work with many types of individuals and your energy and how you present yourself changes with each set of people. Within your friend group, everyone looks after you. They give you the hugs you always seek and make sure you’re fed and well taken care of.

Spending this much time with just you these past weeks has given him a deeper look into who you are outside of all that, which is all of those versions of you all at once. It’s quite the experience, as you go from angry to pouty to unhinged to sentimental then introspective in one sitting. 

And it’s entertaining for him. And exciting. Somehow it’s very reassuring. Especially earlier when you defended him to his ex and said all those good things about him. 

He didn’t realize it right away but his heart did a thing then. He’s not really sure why and where it came from, but it happened several times the rest of the night at your balcony when you cupped his face and looked in his eyes and every time you leaned on his shoulder. 

It’s doing it again now, with you softly looking at him - despite the glassy eyes - standing by the couch as you tell him to just spend the night. 

“I’ll fix the sofa bed while you shower. I have some of Jimin’s clothes here that you can use.”

“Okay,” he responds. 

“Oh, and one last thing,” you say, before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close in an embrace.

“Tae told me to hug you,” you whisper.

Jungkook chuckles and he takes it. But you sigh and rest your chin against his shoulder then there goes his heart again. He flattens his palms on your back and pulls you in a little tighter. 

It lasts for a few seconds before you pull away, pinch his cheeks as you like to do, and gesture towards the bathroom.

“Toothbrush on the first drawer and towel on the second,” you say. 

“Got it. Thanks.”

You pull the levers on the couch to convert it into a bed then put sheets and pillows over it. You put away all your beer cans and turn on the humidifier. 

You get in the shower after he does and then find him still sitting on the bed when you finish. 

“Let’s sleep in tomorrow,” you say while combing your hair. “I’m sure I’ll feel all this alcohol and sore feet all morning.”

“Sure thing. Good night, ___.”

“You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah. I already am.”

Jungkook stays up for another hour just staring at your ceiling. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it but it connects him to where you are, just behind the half wall that separates your bed space from the rest of the apartment. 

You’re probably in deep sleep and he hopes it’s a good one. You’d spent much of the night filled with emotions related to him, from the anger over what Si-an said to the heartbreak over what he experienced. At the end of it was the assurance and shared hope over the good that you both deserve and the love you'll one day find.

The tenderness of your smile and the warmth of your embrace linger after all that. Even more concerning, at least for him, was the rapid beating of his heart whenever he saw your lips turn up or when you’d try to cheer him up or when you’d move closer to him. 

He acted unaffected, as if everything was natural. But the thing is - it is. You’re naturally like this. You’re emotional and encouraging, passionate and hopeful. You’ve called out your friends’ exes before, which always left them stunned and speechless. You’ve had hundreds of pep talks that Jungkook had been the receiver of or witnessed. 

And you’re affectionate, endearingly so. You have this fondness for all your friends, which they all return with the way they take care of you. You like to hug and cuddle and cling to people and it’s never meant anything more - not to you and as far as he knows, not to your other friends. 

But tonight, it felt different. It felt confusing. It also felt good, like something he wants to feel again. And maybe he will, as the thought of spending the next day with you invades his mind. 

He finally falls asleep after doing the trick he taught you not long ago, where he tenses his muscles then relaxes them. It’s the next morning when a loud thump from nearby wakes him up from sleep. 

He turns around, as he’d cocooned himself to one of the pillows, then finds you standing by the sofa bed, grimacing in pain. He sits up and rubs his eyes. 

“What happened to you?” He grunts.

“I was gonna wake you up but I stubbed my toe on the foot of the couch,” you frown. “It hurts.”

“Show me,” he instructs, scooting to the side so you could sit down and stretch your leg. “You’re such a child sometimes,” he teases. 

You playfully smile then remove your sleeping socks and wiggle your toes but wince again in pain when you do.

Jungkook assesses it and decides it’s nothing to be concerned about.

“It’s just bruised. It'll heal soon but just put ice on it for relief,” he says.

You nod and watch him stand to get your cold pack in the freezer. You place it on your toe while he washes up in your bathroom and you already feel better. He comes back out and you say you just ordered hangover soup for the both of you.

“Do you have coffee?”

“Yes, Kook. It’s the one thing I actually have,” you giggle, given that your non-cook ass doesn’t have anything else.

You usually just get your meals delivered. Your mom also occasionally sends containers of food to heat up and Mo-eum and Hayoung sometimes come to your apartment just to cook. It sounds pathetic, you know, which is why you bought yourself an air fryer to make you feel a little less helpless. 

You just put something in, turn a knob, then wait. You’ve only used it a few times but still, it doesn’t make you one of those people with staple ingredients in their pantries. It’s something your friends often tease you about.

Jungkook pulls out two drip coffee sachets from the jar and you limp towards the balcony. It’s 1PM - you really slept through to midday - and the autumn sky is beautiful today. It’s also quite chilly, but it’s the perfect weather to enjoy your hot coffee outdoors.

Jungkook arrives with your mugs and the teapot and gradually pours the water over. You sit in silence as you wait for the drink to be ready. You’re still slowly waking up and he seems to still be in that post-sleep daze. 

He hands you your coffee and you hum in satisfaction after your first sip.

“Hmm. Reminds me of the second morning in Chungbuk,” you hum.

Jungkook smiles. You were surprisingly the first two people from your cabin who were awake that time and you spent almost an hour just talking on the picnic table outside. There was chaos in both your minds but it was calm all around. He remembers that day fondly. 

“Tae messaged and wants to know what happened,” you inform him. “He said we’ll all have dinner tonight at his favorite Chinese restaurant. We can just chill and then I’ll drive us there. I can drive you home, for a change.”

A tiny smile forms on Jungkook’s face. 

“Sounds good.”

You eat your hangover soup on your tiny dining table, then you spend the rest of the short afternoon on your couch while watching random shows on TV. You talk and laugh then sit in silence, then talk and laugh again. 

It’s Jungkook and he’s used to your fluctuating energy by now. You’ve been friends for over 10 years and he knows how you are - blabbering one minute then zoning out the next. You never felt like you had to be a certain version of yourself around him. You go from berating and teasing him to asking him to take care of you. 

It’s how you are with all your friends though. It’s why your friendship has lasted this long. It’s also why you think you’re able to just comfortably sit next to him with your messy hair and raggedy pajama pants and whine about your toe. 

He just laughs and takes it all in. He doesn’t complain about you nor does he make you feel bad about anything you do. Just like all your friends, he’s supportive and dependable, and you suppose it’s what you’ll always need.

It’s 6:30 PM by the time you’re driving out of the basement parking lot to the restaurant, with you insisting that stepping on the gas doesn’t cause any pain on your toe. You arrive and are led to one of those private rooms because with your big group, it’s just always better to have your own space where you could be loud without much care for your surroundings. 

You sit next to Hoseok, who babies you about your little injury because he truly is the most doting one out of all your friends, and to Mo-eum, who engages you in side conversations because there’s always something for you to ramble about. 

You let Jungkook talk about last night. He mentions Si-an’s Instagram message and narrates the things she said, then he repeats the things that you said, almost in verbatim. You stop yourself from exploding at the memory of your exchange with her but it seems that your friends are making up for your hesitation, as a few of them curse and shake their heads in response.

He leaves out the part about Si-an cheating on him more than once, and you suppose it’s not a story he intends to share with others. He was vulnerable with you last night, so when he assures your friends that the past is something he’s already come to terms with and that he’s truly moved on, you send him a soft smile. 

Jungkook’s heart does that thing again, and like the trained teacher that he is, he knows how to keep his emotions in check and not show them on his face. 

He can’t help it though, not when he’s reminded of last night, especially with how you seemed affected again with just his narration. You were groaning under your breath earlier, clenching your fist, and pinching the corners of your eyes. 

But like you always are, at the end of that rage is a kind of gentleness that he used to take for granted. Now, it’s what he looks forward to, whether it’s a smile or a lean on his shoulder or a pinch of his cheek. 

The conversations continue around him but he finds himself still being drawn to you. He hopes the way he looks at you is as natural as it always had been; he hopes the effect of the leaping of his heart isn’t that obvious, either. 

There’s a moment when concern creeps in, as he tries to make sense of what he suddenly feels, as if he just woke up one day and started feeling differently. He knows it’s too soon to act on it, though, especially with him still trying to figure it all out. He doesn’t want to risk anything, especially if it’ll cost him your friendship.

He tries to rationalize it. Perhaps he might just be reacting to how you’d been protective of him and it’ll pass. It could also be just a harmless crush or a fleeting one. He might also still be hungover. Or maybe it’s a result of how much time you’ve been spending together since your trip to Chungbuk, which hasn’t happened for a while, so maybe spending less time with you will return things to normal. 

He decides that not making too much effort to be around you will help stabilize himself and his stubborn heart. That is, until Taehyung makes an announcement, which apparently is the reason why he asked for this dinner.

“So… I got the call earlier,” he starts, looking around at everyone’s expectant faces. “I got the role on Broadway. I’m heading to New York!”

The room erupts in excitement and Taehyung sports that proud and appreciative boxy smiley of his while he gets hugs and high-fives.

“There’s been a delay with production but I’m one of the first casts. They wanted to lock me in right away because they know I’m eyeing another show,” he explains. “But I fly in May and the shows start in October. I’m so excited.”

“Oh, our Tae,” Hayoung says. “We’re so proud of you! We’re definitely flying out to watch.”

“Yes! It’ll run for a couple of months so there’s time,” he nods. “But since I’ll be leaving again and the holidays are coming up soon, I was thinking of going on a trip.”

“To where?” Several of you ask. 

“Hmm, any suggestions?” He asks back.

“Let’s go to Sapporo!” Jimin chirps.

It’s a place you’ve all talked about going to before, especially after your trip to Tokyo some time ago, so it’s not hard to convince everyone to agree. The planning begins and you all decide on a mid-December trip so it’s the school holidays and the rest can take their leaves. Some are checking out hotels while the others are searching up what to eat and where to stay.

Jungkook tries to process all the different conversations happening all at once but his mind goes back to his thoughts from earlier. So much for trying to spend less time with you. Now he’s thinking of those few days - snow, food, warmth… and you. 

And if he’s being honest, he can’t wait for December to come.

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[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 5

<-former chapter -AO3 link -next chapter -> Call of duty. My ko-fi, Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 6.3k

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

MDNI. MDNI. Dead dove do not eat.

Authors note: do note there will be the use of prong collars in this. Just like all the other fucked up stuff in this, i don't support that irl, but this is fiction. On a different note, it will probably be at least a week before I can give you another chapter lol, shit is happening, my sinners and im holding on. Also thank u to all the nice asks and comments ive been sent. means a lot <33. ENJOY!

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You could only stay in the farmhouse for so long; even though you desperately wanted to stay inside, Price dragged you outside, talking about fresh air and enjoying nature. 

To you it was nothing but lies and the smell of animal shit.

There were no pavements, no cars flashing by, no advertisements or shops, no scents of food or sweets trying to lure you in. There were no hybrid clothes shops, where John would play dress up with you for his next party. Show him how the lingerie set he picked out looked against your tail.

He would make sure your nails were always perfect and manicured. Without the claws, he made sure you knew you were loved anyways, your nails adorned with expensive nail polish and gemstones. Anything that his Daisy, his princess, his darling, his puppy wanted, she always got.

Now you were here, following him into the stables, to see how far Nikolai - who had forced himself into your life - was with the tractor.

Warily looking out for the hybrids, staying close to your owner.

The stitches were gone and everything was healed all nicely - that didn’t mean that you wanted to start over and get more bites that would need stitches. Once was enough. Hopefully Price and Nikolai understood that too.

Also, you didn’t want to get fucked dumb by those mutts again; they didn’t deserve your pussy. Especially not Ghost or Gaz. Not really Soap either, he had just been nice because he had to. You were sure. They were nothing but stupid working dogs, who didn’t know how to behave.

Your owner, John Price, looked in love; he was watching Nik just as much as he was watching the tractor. The stress that had sometimes followed him home when you lived in the city was no longer visible. It had left his bones, made him happy and pliable, clearly blossoming in his new role as a farmer. You loved him but what the fuck were you supposed to do with this whole situation? Pretend to be happy?

You were a pet, so it wasn’t like you had any options. And your attempts at persuading him to move back to the city hadn’t gone well. Resisting your ever present urge to let him fuck you, would probably not do you any good. Earn you a spanking from both him and Nikolai. They might even throw you to the hounds.

One of those said hounds were getting closer to you, the hybrid making you tense up a little.

“You’re looking good, princess,” Gaz said casually, shooting you an awfully charming smile, his tail wagging while you tipped your ears backwards instead of replying.

“Feeling better?”

You didn’t reply, merely stared at the tractor, boring as it was. Maybe if you ignored him, he would go away. He stepped closer to you, his dark gaze resting on you, while you stepped closer to John, growling as a warning.

“Behave,” Price said over his shoulder, clearly more interested in that Russian man of his, than your safety.

It only took another step and Gaz’s teeth a tad too close to you, to send you bolting out. Back inside it was then, you concluded, enough farming bullshit for today.

Only to meet Ghost in the way, his scarred face grinning smugly, ears tipping towards you.

“‘Ello pup.”

Nah, you weren’t fucking with that today. You managed to see the shadow of Soap before you bolted again.

Running still wasn’t your best talent; so though you knew it was stupid, you decided to do what you weren’t allowed to anyways. You crawled the wooden fence, ignoring the male hybrids' shouts and barks — as well as the fence’s slight squeak - and landed on the other side with a grunt. 

The corns were tall and you took a breath, looking over your shoulder, only to see a worried looking Soap being the closest.

He let out a concerned whimper.

“Dinnae lass,” he warned, a softness in his voice that you recognized from your moments inside.

You would deal with the consequences and the punishment that Price would give you for leaving the ground. It was better than getting your shoulders bitten to pieces - so you got up and rushed into the tall corn field. Abandoning the male hybrids.

Stupid. They were all stupid.

Maybe this should be your new go-to hiding spot. You could hear them bark aggressively but not getting nearer. They weren’t allowed to leave either. You felt your chest swell a little with pride over the idea. You wouldn't be gone for long, just until they lost interest in you.

It was several seconds before you stopped, panting with your tongue out. You couldn’t see the fence or the farm from all the corn by now, which finally meant some peace. Your tail wagged and your body relaxed, a soft wind playing with your fur for a moment, making the corn move around you, like waves in the ocean.

However, that peace didn’t last long.

“My my,” the voice almost appeared out of nowhere and you turned slowly, unsure but still afraid of what you would see, “what are you doing here, perrita? On my property?”

You knew Alejandro and Rodolfo had gotten a hybrid, but you had been too swept up in your own nightmare to ask about her; now, as she towered above you, seeming more wolf than dog, you would rather have one of the mutts on your own farm. A scared little whimper escaped you.

“You must be Price’s precious lapdog, no?” She asked, slowly moving in between the corn with ease, as she circled around you, fear making you stay still, “a little city puppy, forced to be out on a farm. How sad.”

There was no trace of sympathy in her voice. It took you a moment to swallow some spit and another moment to take a proper breath.

“I’ll go home again, I’m sorry.” You tried your best to seem submissive, leaning forward a little, tail tugged along your leg. You at least had your owner at the farm - but here? Here, with this new, wolf-like hybrid, you didn't have anyone. You weren’t even supposed to be here, weren’t allowed. Sure, you knew Alejandro and Rudy, but they also knew you weren’t supposed to be there.

“Hmmm,” she answered in a rumble, licking her teeth slowly, casually showing off her fangs, “what’s your name, perrita?”

She screamed danger. Her energy screamed ‘I can make worse wounds than them’ and you certainly didn’t feel like testing that. In fact, you would rather get as much distance between you and her as possible.

“D-Daisy.” It was the name Price had chosen, not that you were really called it. But you weren’t going to tell this hybrid woman who looked like she could swallow you whole, that you were usually called princess, pretty girl, puppy or sweetheart.

“I’m Valeria,” she replied, finally stopping her circling, only to step closer to you. She wasn’t really that tall, but her energy was as if she was,  she had strong arms and legs; scars littered her too, her hair short, ears big and tipped forward without a care in the world. Her collar was thick and sturdy, opposed to your own fancy one.

You almost wanted to point out that yours was prettier. That you were a lapdog, not one of the working ones, that you were not made to be played rough with. That you were no threat.

You could hear barking in the distance. Voices calling out for you. Even though you hadn’t met Valeria for more than a minute, you already knew you wanted to get a good distance between you and her.

“Uh nice to meet you, but I better get back home, sorry-“ you turned around quickly but before you could even think to bolt, strong arms were around you and the other dog hybrid pulled you close to her chest.

“Eres tan linda e ingenua,” she almost lovingly growled into your ear, and while you didn’t understand what she was saying, you were much more distracted by her tongue. She licked your cheek a couple of times, slow and wet strokes; you got the feeling that she might eat you raw without regret and you twisted a little in her grip, letting out a louder growl. She laughed, one of her hands pawing at your tit, claws sinking into the fabric. She smelled of danger and lust; like the mutts at home when they first got their dirty paws on you.

“I’m gonna enjoy me—“

“VALERIA!” Her name echoed through the fields, making both of you freeze. Like a warning rushing in between the corns, her name couldn’t be ignored.

She growled deeply, seeming annoyed with the disturbance, while you wanted to kiss whoever of your neighbors it was. She rolled her hips, humping your ass twice, before she was interrupted again.

“Valeria!” It was Alejandro, you realised then, who yelled once again, “ sé que la tienes! Let her go!”

With one deep sniff of you, while you whimpered, the wolf-looking hybrid finally let go of you.

“I won’t be as nice next time, perrita - now go, before I change my mind and take you from your boys.”

You didn’t need to be told that again and didn’t want to argue that they weren’t your boys - the moment she let go, you bolted towards the way you came. 

How they knew that she had gotten a hold of you wasn't clear, but it wasn’t like you were gonna turn around and ask Alejandro or Rudy.

The answer came to you anyways; one angry looking John Price stood with crossed arms, phone in hand. A grinning Nikolai next to him and three growling hybrids moving back and forth along the men and the fence. Every single one of them stilled and stared at you as you sheepishly walked to the fence, tail between your legs and ears tipped down.

You stood, just for a moment, with the fence in between you and the others. Considering staying there, as if that would be a good solution.

“Get your arse over here,” Price snapped, his voice stern and dark, as he put his phone in his pocket, marching towards you. 

You hastily and in a rather inexperienced manner, climbed the fence and got to the right side. Instantly, tears welled up in your eyes and you let out a whimper, almost ready to tell about the horrors you had just been through - only to bark loudly at the hybrids as they all charged towards you, hands touching you, only stopped by a sharp whistle. 

“Nyet,” Nikolai called harshly, “off her. Now.”

Soap and Gaz instantly let go, stepping back as John reached you, but Ghost didn’t move. His hand rested on your neck, pressing your collar against your skin, his nose almost fully pressed against your temple. 

“Let go.” Price’s voice was sharp and you let out a little whimper- not sure who of them you would rather deal with right now.

“She smells wrong,” Ghost replied, not moving, but his voice not as harsh as it could be, “smell of her.”

Her. You didn’t know whether Valeria would be in trouble over this or not. You had been the one to step into her territory anyways. She wasn't the one who had jumped a fence after all.

“We will fix that.” 

Ghost let out a grumble but after two seconds of staring at each other, the hybrid finally let go of you, earning himself a swift “Good boy.” 

Then Price grabbed into the ring in your collar and pulled, ignoring how you instantly broke into tears, excuses and explanations spilling from your lips like a waterfall, desperate to avoid punishment. You didn't want to stay with Valeria, but you didn’t want this either.

You were dragged past Nikolai who shared a short glance with Price - and they gave each other a short nod.

“C’mon boys,” Nikolai then called, the hybrids instantly moving to him, even though you could feel them staring at you, “we’re gonna join them.”

They were what? You cried harder, tugging at John’s arm, your owner ignoring your pleads and cries.

“I’m sorry sir, I got scared, I didn’t mean to run away,” you babbled, every second word followed by a small sob or whine, tail between your lets, almost making it hard to walk normally, “ they scared me, I was gonna come back, I’ll be good sir, I’ll behave! I wasn’t running away!”

There was no mercy from your owner, who just marched you towards the farmhouse that had almost become home by now.

If someone had told you a year ago that you would be a dog on a farm by now, surrounded by working hybrids, you would have laughed in their face. Loudly and impolitely.

You? Pretty lapdog living in the city out on a farm?

You weren’t even at the house yet, somehow crying harder because you felt so sorry for yourself in general. You were such a perfect lapdog, such a perfect being, forced to be out here, in the cold countryside. A tragedy.

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The prong collars looked like they would choke too and you wanted to scream merely at the sight.

“I’m not running the risk of having my darling all bitten to pieces again - this will hopefully help you to remember.”

None of them seemed too happy about it; you couldn’t blame them, you wouldn’t want those either, but you were horrified by the idea of getting bitten as harshly as they did last time. If both Price and Nik hadn’t been there, you doubted it would be possible to get the collars on them.

You were still crying yourself, from the shame of having jumped over the fence and creating chaos, only resulting in this.

The moment they were allowed, they were on you, ignoring your whimpering and fingers trying to push them off - Soap was the nicest, helping you get your clothes off instead of letting the others rip them, even if all of them were obsessed with your smell. Or well, with how you smelled of Valeria to be exact.

Soap licked your cheek and you growled at him, tipping your ears back, trying to push him away, fingers against his chest; but he didn’t move, only pressed himself closer, growling back to prove he was stronger than you - that you were supposed to be submitting to him.

“They shouldn’t be this aggressive,” you heard Price point out to Nikolai, but you were too distracted by Soap grinding his still clothed crotch against your poor, exposed cunt - you whined his name, but he didn’t stop. 

“Gonn’ mark ye, hen,” he promised in a murmur, teeth sinking into your jaw for just a moment - a warning tug in the leash made him let go almost instantly, instead licking the spot a couple of times, “gonn’ make ye smell all bonnie again.”

Both Gaz and Ghost were barking, but they were both held by the collars by Price and Nik, kneeling next to them, clearly antsy.

“-are working dogs-” it was hard to hear them, over your own mind buzzing so much, over the barks and the pleasure that you hated, “-hierachy is importa-”, one of Soap’s hands disappeared and a moment later, you heard his fly get tugged down, “show them where the line is, so–”

You howled in a high pitched tone as he forced his cock inside you, making you twist and try to push Soap okay. The stretch was intense, burning despite how wet you felt. “It's okay, bonnie lass,” Soap growled, forcing his cock a little deeper into you, nosing at your shoulder, near one of your scent glands, his hands moving to grab onto your thighs, “we’re nae gonna hurt ye.”

You both knew it was a lie - but you at least trusted Soap a little more than the two other mutts who were watching, knowing he could control himself. They were barely able to sit still, tongues out, almost drooling, while their eyes were dark in a way that reminded you of that time in the shed.

He forced his cock deeper, the knot finally reaching the opening of your poor, stretched cunt and you let out a sound at the fear of it sliding inside you. The scent of Soap was already beginning to overwhelm the scent that Valeria had left behind against your will - a part of you wished you had fought her more, had attempted to hurt her more.

The cry that left you was pained and afraid - his fangs almost having forced its way through your skin; you were only saved by John, who pulled Soap back by the collar, the prongs digging into the hybrid’s skin.

“Behave, boy,” John snarled while a mixture of a whine and a growl left Soap, as he helplessly pawed at the collar, “No breaking skin - already told you.”

“‘m sorry, sorry,” he promised, a pained tone to his voice, “dinnae mean tae.”

You doubted it was true; there was a darkness in the air despite the way your owner tried handling them.

He was let go off and the moment the prongs didn’t painfully dig into his skin, he was on you again, tongue on the indent he had left, his cock pressed into you again, his tail wagging.

“‘m sorry,” he barely managed to say in between his licks and moans, before his hands were back on you, his moaning louder, as he ignored your whines of slowing down. Your own hands grabbed onto his mohawk and ears, but the hybrid did nothing but moan even louder, moving his hips a little upwards and fuck - he hit the perfect spot, grinning like a feral hound when he noticed and heard your sounds.

You came against your will, crying out and spasming around him, his hands grabbing harder onto your thighs, claws teasing the skin.

He was panting and moaning like a hound, mounting you like there was nothing in his mind but the feeling of your cunt.

“Gonna fill ye up,” Soap promised, words barely escaping his mouth, drool dripping down on you; not like you cared, too gone yourself to really do so.

“DON'T knot her,” Price’s word cut through the air like a sharp knife, slicing into your mind; you wanted him to knot you, a part of you realized, no you needed him too - while another screamed in delight of not having to be stuck to him.

“Nnngh,” his hips were going so fast it almost hurt as they clashed against your skin, “please sir, please plea—“

“No.”

The hand that appeared made you shudder - and then a second later, Soap came, almost a guttural scream leaving him; you could feel Price’s fingers near your cock, stopping him from sliding his knot into you. 

“Later,” Price answered, then pulling Soap back by the collar and hair, your own hands slipping easily from him, “we don’t have the time to wait for all of you to knot her right now.”

The moment he was pulled away, you moved, whimpering and curling to the side, wincing as cum slid out from your pussy; it wasn’t John’s, you wanted it to be your owners. You barely had time to breathe before Nik released one of the others. Gaz pushed you onto your stomach - one hand on your neck to keep you down as you snarled.

“Wait,” you barked, ears tipping down “lemme breathe, for fucks sake—“

“Need you, puppy,” Gaz merely replied, grabbing onto your collar and tugging, his other hand pulling on your tail, ignoring your yelp, “gonna make it all okay again.”

“Nothing happened-“ you snarled, trying to make him let go, but you separately rose to your knees in order to levitate the pressure on your tail.

“Why did you smell like her then, huh?” He all but snarled, finally letting go of your collar, to push down his own pants, “stinking of her lust!”

You tried twisting to grip onto his ears to tug at them, hoping it would make him let go of you but he merely let go of you fully for a moment - your wrists were caught by his hands and he slammed them against the wooden floor.

“Be nice, собака,” Nik warned him, “I’m in no mood for broken bones.”

You barely heard him nor Gaz’ aggressive reply; you were too busy, having a realization. 

They were jealous ; you weren’t sure why it had taken you so fucking long to realize. The three mutts were jealous somebody else, somebody they didn’t know, had touched you and hadn’t you been so fucking upset, you might have laughed.

Instead, you felt a cock forcing its way into your cunt, making you howl in pleasure against your will; the slide was easier this time as Gaz fucked you, as you were already wet from the round with Soap - and now with his cum as well, Gaz fucked you almost smoothly. If not more aggressively than Soap had.

It didn’t take long before his teeth sank into your skin, the first two seconds it was nothing more than an extra grip, his cock roughly thrusting into you as if attempting to move your organs, his drool sliding along your skin, mixing with your sweat. His claws were digging into your skin slightly, but even more into the floor - while you were a mess, panting and attempting to growl in between your pathetic moans, barely able to see straight.

The pressure he bit you with changed quickly however and suddenly you were whining in pain, so loudly that you almost didn’t recognize your own voice.

Apparently Gaz had tried to bite Price in aggression over being ripped away from ‘his bitch’ as Nik called it, and you heard the harsh words and slaps, while you sank down a little, your tits pressed against the cold floor, your cunt empty. 

He was back as soon as he disappeared though, pulling you up again, only to almost instantly try to bite you again – halfway pulled away once more. You looked over your shoulder, seeing how the prong collar dug into his skin for a short moment until Price let go of him again.

The moment he was back, you turned however, using the moment to grab onto one of his long, dark ears and tug; it was almost a squeal that left Gaz and you heard both the hybrids bark and growl, Nik saying something – but it was the harsh spank from the leather leash that made you loosen your grip. 

“Behave, Princess,” John was squatting down next to you, strong hand on your pretty collar; it stood out so violently when compared to the others’ current prong collars, “or I’ll get you a collar too.”

“They’re mean!” you whimpered, giving him your best puppy eyes, before sending Gaz an angry look, as he was barely held back by John.

“Well you’re not quite playing nice either, eh?” There was a slight amusement in his voice but you didn’t get to comment on it, before he moved again.

Price gave Gaz more leash and the hybrid was instantly on you again, but this time Price didn’t let go of the metal ring in your own collar, keeping you in place, as if to remind you to behave; to remember he was right here, calling the shots.

“Yeah, Princess,” Gaz mocked, pushing into your cunt again with a moan, the movement in his hips exposing the fact that he was wagging his tail, “Behave.”

“Shut up!” you hissed angrily, a tug in the collar reminding you that Price was right there. 

Gaz’ hands were mostly on your hips - he nuzzled against your back and neck, licking your shoulders and in between your shoulder blades - he bit you a couple of times, but they were barely anything more than nips, a gentle tug on his collar reminding him to behave.

Then one of his hands moved, almost catching you off guard and making you whimper - it slid beneath your stomach, pawing at it for a moment, before it found its way to your cunt where the two of you were still connected, his thrusts still hard; he touched your clit without hesitation, snarling out words you could barely recognize. Mercilessly forcing you towards another orgasm.

Price let go of your collar and you let your head slumber down against the floor, wincing at the small pool of drool that had been created, hating how you pushed back against Gaz, the dual pleasure of his cock hitting that right spot and the fingers on your clit, so good you could barely breathe.

You barely heard Price’s command of not knotting you, from the mere tsunami of pleasure that overtook your body as you came, a howl that barely made any sound, snapping of your teeth and the pawing at the floor. You tightened around his cock, the knot having been so close, oh so close to being forced into your over oversensitive cunt - but then it was pulled out of you, almost making you sob.

Cum spurted on top of your lower back and ass cheeks, before Gaz willingly went - you could hear the almost instant sound of him and Soap making out with each other. And there was only one person back, which meant you had to go now.

A hand grabbed onto your ankle, dragging you backwards as you managed to crawl forwards a few steps - you turned around, back on the floor, raising your opposite leg to kick Ghost in the face, but the other hybrid caught it easily; grinning at you, almost feral-like, lust heavy in the air. Sometimes you forgot they had been in the military for so long.

Leather connected to your skin once more, this time on your raised thigh, a whine leaving you, your eyes flickering to look up at John who stood with the leash curled in his hand, ready to spank you with it once more.

“behave,” John hissed at you, while Ghost chuckled. Idiot.

You didn’t have much time to argue, Ghost letting go of your ankles, just to grab onto your thighs and pull you closer; he was kneeling, almost pulling you into his lap, that feral grin still there, fangs exposed.

He leant over you much quicker than you had anticipated, ignoring your growling and snapping with teeth - one hand resting next to your head, the other pulling down his boxers, pants already open.

Was his cock this big last time? It was like you couldn’t remember the last time right now, you could barely think, in fact, your mind was overwhelmed with so many things. Pleasure, oversensitivity, pain and anger - his dick seemed inhumanely long.

“Not so snappy now, huh?” he crooned, voice low, his free hand grabbing onto your plush thigh, fingers digging into the fat, ears tipped towards you as he spoke, “cockdumb already?”

“nnngh,” you tried pushing at his clothed chest, twisting in his grip, but it was no use; it was like the cock inside you kept you from doing anything. Somehow you managed a small “shutup” and that was enough to set Ghost going.

“Gonna teach you to not go whoring again,” Ghost snarled against your skin, tongue sloppily leaving a wet trail of spit over one of your bouncing tits, simply ignoring your hands trying to push his face out of the way, a plethora of moans and small yaps leaving you as he didn’t stop fucking you with that monster cock of his. You knew you were being watched, both by your owner and his boyfriend, as well as the two other hybrids, it only added to the humiliation of being turned on.

“Belong to us,” his words were barely audible as he growled them, the wet sounds and rustling of his clothes seeming to overtake it, “not her.”

“I won’t, won’t go, won–” you were barely aware of the words slipping from your lips, the volume rising as you felt his teeth scrape against a spot on your shoulder over your right breast, “nonon, please, I wont–”

“Ghost–” Price’s warning was stern, the little tug in the prong collar making him grumble, licking over the spot a couple of times - your eyes met. 

Ghost’s eyes almost seemed like they wanted to own you too; as if it was no longer John who you bowed to, but the pack that you didn’t want, on a farm you didn’t want to be. His thrusts quickened and then his eyelids lowered together with his head – biting down into your skin.

Despite his fast attempt at breaking your skin, mauling your flesh into his, Price was quicker – pulling him back by the collar. He held an extra grip on his hair and you managed to look up, see through the tears.

It was like there was a flood in your ears, Price looking mad, Ghost’s ears tipping backwards as he spoke.

Fighting to get some air into your lungs, you panted and tried wiggling free. Ghost’s fingers merely dug deeper into your plush thigh even though he was currently pulled back by the prong collar, the tips of his claws pressing against your skin as a warning.

The moment he let go, Ghost was back at it, staring down at you with a dark smile, grunts and small moans even leaving him. It took a couple of moments before Price let him have enough leash to bend down over you again and this time Ghost growled into your ears instead of your skin. Licking your furry ears while you whimpered at the feeling and the words.

They owned you; were going to breed you, use you, keep Valeria away, and do whatever they needed to keep you. You were theirs. The moment you let us, he had panted, we will love you.

There was an odd feeling in your stomach, almost as if you were going to piss yourself, but with no mercy from any of the men, one of your hands dug into his short hair and the other grabbed onto his shoulder as you screamed.

It had been a while since you squirted and it took you by surprise, just as it did the others. There were several barks, voices but then Ghost was fucking you even harder than before, bordering on painful, forcing his mouth against yours. You came a second time, this time not squirting but it almost felt more intense.

Ghost came just a moment later, perhaps caught by surprise himself, but he made sure not to knot you. 

The world was spinning around you. There were teardrops in your lashes as you squinted up at the hybrid, who was still pushed inside you. Price’s hand petting him shortly on the head before pulling him back.

There was speech but you barely noticed - then strong hands pulled you up into a lap. The overpowering scent of leather and oil told you who it was and despite your slight hate for Nik, your tail wagged as he pulled you into his arms, cooing at you.

“Such a strong puppy,” he praised, one of his hands drying away some of your drool, caressing your cheek as he sat on the floor with you on his lap, cum no doubt dripping onto his clothes, “you deserve treat for being so good, da?”

Compared to the first time you had met Nikolai, you didn’t want to bite his hand anymore - he clearly didn’t fear you doing so either. You snuggled into his hand, nodding as you squinted up at him, a  small “uh-huh” leaving you.

His hand disappeared and then there was a faint rustling of plastic - even without seeing it, you smelled it. It was that mouthwatering scent that made you weak in your knees that first time and your nose instantly sniffed, almost trying to sit up further to get a look of where it was - to get it before the boys did. Nikolai laughed, letting out a “there you go, milaya,” letting you grab the piece of jerky from his finger, instantly sinking your teeth into it with a pleased sigh. Your tail wagging a little again as you heard Soap whining over not getting a piece.

You even had to take a bath with them afterwards. Your life was officially over - you made sure to tell Price that, who just huffed and rolled his eyes. Sure, you weren’t the biggest fan of showers, but you wanted the cum off and you wanted a bath in the tub… alone. That was your thing.

“- ‘nd they’re gonna use up my shampoo and my conditioner -” you continued overdramatically as Nik carried you in front of John, the russian man merely snorting at your pitiful complaining. 

“We’ll buy more-” John tried to point out, but to no avail, life might as well be over for you right now.

“- ‘nd my brushes - all my nice brushes!”

“I will be sure tae use yers, Mo ghràdh,” Soap happily proclaimed, sending you a wink, fully naked as he was, his usual collar back on, small red marks on his neck from where the prongs had been, “I will use theim the wrong way. Just fer ye.”

Gaz snickered and even Ghost let out a chuckle.

“Jooohn,” you whined, only struggling a little as Nik sat you down in the tub, the water already nice and warm, your poor body having needed this, “I’m gonna need new brushes.”

“I doubt that, Princess,” he cooed, petting your hair, “Now who wants to join in th–”

Soap was in the tub, sliding in behind you before John could even finish his question, happily ignoring your pout and growl.

“Dinnae be like that,” he crooned, “where is yer special shampoo?”

This day had been awful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Princess.”

You almost jumped as the voice called for you and you turned, squinting slightly in suspicion at the sight. Gaz stood in the doorway, all calmly, looking at you, playing a little with his gloves. He didn’t look aggressive and didn’t smell turned on; in fact, he looked pretty harmless, his tail wagging ever so slightly, ears turning towards you and an almost shy smile.

“What?” you asked, sitting up in the dog bed, crossing your arms, not caring about sounding nice, looking him over for a moment before adding, “you’re dragging in mud.”

He looked down at his shoes, letting out a little ‘oh’. They weren’t really supposed to be in here, so you didn’t really understand why Gaz stood there. You didn’t really care either.

The other might be beautiful, but he was still not one of your favorite people. 

“I - want to show you something,” he finally said, one of his charming smile appearing, though it was a little more careful this time, “Soap said you would probably like it.”

“What is it?” You didn’t sound too impressed.

“It's a surprise,” he smiled a little more.

“If it's your knots, then you can–”

“Jeez,” he rolled his eyes, as if they weren’t fucking you silly on the livingroom floor the other day, “it’s not. Nothing like that.”

“Promise?”

“I do,” he answered, wagging a little more than before, “Swear on my tail.”

"Hm. Where is it?”

“In the barn.”

You scrunched your nose at the mention of the barn, the idea of being stamped to death by a horse already scaring you.

“It’s nothing scary - I wouldn’t bring you if it was.”

You let out a sigh, before getting up - he went to the hallway again and you followed, stealing one of John’s jackets as well as a pair of his boots, before following Gaz outside. 

“Some air would do you good once in a while, ya’ know,” Gaz said after a few moments, “we’re not that bad all of the time, Princess.”

You huffed, wondering for a moment if you should just turn around and go back. “You haven’t really proved me otherwise.”

He let out a hum that almost sounded agreeable but opened one of the doors to the barn, ushering you inside.

“It’s all good, I promise,” he said once more and you reminded yourself, that if he tricked you, you were going to snap off his tail. Pretty as it was.

He steered you to a booth where you noticed the heat lamp at first, more than anything else - but then you saw them, letting out a little gasp.

Tiny baby goats, all snuggled together in the hay beneath the lamp. A few of the mothers stood nearby and one of them came to the door of the booth, sniffing at Gaz’ hand, before letting out a bleat - then turning around again.

“They’re adorable,” you whispered, looking back at the babies, some of them looking at you, others sleeping with no worries in the world. 

“Aren’t they?” Gaz asked with a smile, “They were born yesterday night. Come.”

You let out a scared sound as Gaz opened the door to the booth.

“Won’t the mothers attack us?” you didn’t like how Gaz chuckled to your genuine, fearful question but he shook his head.

“Nah, me ‘nd the others hang out with the animals all the time.” He explained, petting one of the mothers who came to greet him for a moment.

It was cute. You had to admit that, even with your limited love of the farm animals.

“But I don’t.” you pointed out, still standing in the door of the booth, afraid to step into the hay and join the other as he sat down next to the baby goats.

“No, but the mothers know I won’t let a predator near,” he explained gently, “Not at daytime and not during the night.”

“Oh.”

There was something special over this that you could not explain. You didn’t want to explain it. You sat down next to Gaz as he patted the spot, still a little unsure about the momma goats - but none of them battered an eye as Gaz took your hand and made you gently pet one of the babies.

“They’re so tiny,” you whispered, almost to yourself, for once not hating or fearing Gaz. At least for right now, you were just in a moment together with him, doing something that you hadn’t expected would be that nice.

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?" 

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 

"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 

"And you too." 

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 

"Ah, Pop, I don-" 

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 

"What's this?" 

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 

"Pop." 

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 

"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you." 

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 

"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 

"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 

"I'll speak up. I promise." 

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 

"What's this?" 

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 

"When's the last time you used it?" 

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?" 

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in a year made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 

Desire. 

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 

"You trust me?" 

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride 

You check your mail? 

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

hi i just wanted to say I LOVE UR POSTS SO MUCH YOU ARE DOING A SERVICE TO THE MALE READER BUCKY FANS🫡 anyways pls.. more dom bucky i beg.. specifically 1940's bucky where yk it was illegal to be fruity.. PLS idk why a gay-in-denial 1940's bucky has been stuck in my head for so long anyways bye ily goat

a/n: hiii thank you sm i really appreciate it!! :) i really try to serve the male readers out there as much as i can!! i didn't really have a lot of knowledge about officer ranks, so i had to do a bit of research, and it took me quite a while, but i really hope i captured what you wanted in this, i hope you enjoy it 😋

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+18 mdni! illicit; a fic about sergeant!bucky pining after duty officer!reader who's too scared to tell bucky how he actually feels.

cw: dom!bucky, sub!m!reader, porn with plot (shocking), pining, reader calls bucky 'james', and 'sergeant', bucky calls reader 'darling', and 'officer', flirty!bucky, innocent!reader, homophobia mentioned, bucky has a hair pulling kink, missionary, fingering, blowjob (?), handjob, creampie (?), they say 'i love you' at the end!!!

word count: >4.6k

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summer, 1943

the war had taken so much already, cities, brothers, allies. but it had also given you and bucky, who was a sergeant at the time, something strange, something private. he met you in an office in new york city, crowded with typewriters, and ration slips. he wore his confidence like a medal of honor, while you were all jittery nerves and untied laces, always adjusting your tie a bit too tight.

“you’re going to strangle yourself one day, you know. death by self-doubt.”

“it’s just.. crooked. the knot feels off.” you reached towards your neck to straighten your tie, again.

“no it’s not. it’s perfect, as always. it’s you that’s twisted up.. inside.” he pressed his pointer finger against your chest, where your heart was.

“that’s reassuring.” you said dryly, swatting his finger away from you playfully.

“i mean it kindly, officer.” even though he teased you often, he liked the way you carried yourself, previously mentioning how it gave you a ‘clandestine charm’ of sorts.

“is that supposed to be a compliment, sergeant?” you played along, the both of you had always enjoyed calling each other by your ranks, it just made you feel connected to him, in a way that you shouldn’t be feeling.

“depends on how you view it.” bucky shrugged, before walking away. he complimented you often, almost too often, as if he wanted you to believe him one day.

one morning, you had run late, your collar was buttoned wrong while your tie was slightly crooked. you hurried into the office, stumbling into your seat. bucky was there already, waiting by your table. he tipped his hat at you, making your face heat up in embarrassment. you prayed that no one else saw, that no one would suspect the way you felt about him.

“you’re all buttoned up wrong, officer.” he stepped closer towards you, fixing your collar and tie for you. his fingers had brushed against your throat in the process, making you hold your breath nervously. he seemed to have noticed the way you reacted though, he chuckled, before pulling away. your heart knew what your mouth dared not to say.

it was 1943, you could lose everything for wanting a man like him. bucky never seemed afraid, though. he’d wink at you during tea breaks, and write notes, either passing them to you or sneakily tucking them into the pockets of your coats. he’d write you notes like ‘if you find yourself losing sleep tonight, indulge and think about me. i’ll be thinking of you too, no doubt.’. you never wrote back, you were too scared to. but you’ve kept all of them though, slipping the notes in between pages of your notebooks to hide them from the eyes of others.

whenever the both of you had to work extra long shifts, he’d join you, pushing the paperwork over so that he’d be able to sit on your desk. he’d always lean in, talking about paris, as if it was a dream the both of you might share, someday.

“we’d go dancing.” he spoke, his voice low. “we wouldn’t have to be afraid there.”

“war will be over soon, maybe.” you laughed, your head tipping downwards to look at the ground.

winter 1943.

a few months had passed since you met bucky. one night, the both of you had drinks at your flat, the both of you sat on the floor against the couch as you drank.

“you shouldn’t look at me like that.” you turned to bucky, he looked even better in this dim lighting, it made you want him more than you should.

“like what, darling?”

“like you know me. like.. like you want to.” the both of you sat in silence for a while, before he broke the silence.

“maybe i do.”

“this.. we’re not in a french novel, james. it’s not poetry. you know what they’d do to us if they found out.” you sighed out, taking a sip from your glass of whiskey.

“men like us. you said it. that’s the first time you’ve ever put yourself in the same sentence as me.”

“..d-don’t make light of this.”

“i’m not. i never do, not with you.” bucky turned towards you, his hands fidgeting with a stopwatch.

“easy for you to say, you don’t have a father waiting at home with expectations, or a commanding officer who’ll feed you to the wolves if you screw up.” you said, bitterly.

“you think i’m not scared? you think i don’t lie awake at night, thinking about who might’ve saw us talking too long, standing too close?” he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “but i’d rather risk it than live pretending all of this isn’t real.” you stared at him, your jaw tightening.

“you.. you don’t understand, james. i’ve spent my whole life keeping quiet, k-keeping my hands to myself.” you spat out. “you.. you come along with your easy smile, and your stupid poems..” your eyes were glassy, filled with tears that threatened to spill out. “i.. i don’t know how to survive the way you love.”

“i’ve seen enough of this war to know one thing. the world doesn’t give you many chances at something good, you have to take it when it comes.” bucky took your hands in his, caressing your fingers. “i don’t wanna mess this up, not with you.”

“it.. it’s not that easy.” tears rolled down your cheeks as your breath stuttered.

“then let me teach you, darling. i’m not asking you to shout it from the rooftops. just.. just stay with me little longer. don’t go down there pretending again.” there was a long silence, before you leaned against his shoulder. not quite a touch, but just enough.

you had let bucky stay at your flat, just to keep you company. you had let him take the bed, while you slept on the floor. the both of you laid awake, staring into the ceiling.

“when i was thirteen, i got caught staring at a boy for too long in the chapel. my father made me kneel in gravel for a day. told me i had the devil in me.” bucky didn’t speak, just listened as you opened up. “funny thing is, i believed him. i-i thought if i ignored it.. prayed hard enough, it’ll all go away.” you let out a bitter laugh.

“did it?”

“you know it didn’t. you walk around like it’s not a sin to want someone like me, like.. like it’s not a curse. i don’t know how you do it, james.”

“it is a curse, but not the kind they think. the real curse is hiding, watching the person you love walk away, all because the both of you are too scared to love each other.” he spoke, his voice cracking. “you know i love you, right?” he confessed. you were quiet, just listening to what he had to say. “i’m not asking you to say it back.. i just want to know that you feel something.”

“if i didn’t feel anything, i wouldn’t have invited you over, would’ve shut you out.” bucky sat up, moving down to pick you up from the floor. he set you down next to him on the bed, pulling the covers over the both of you.

“we could run away together, start a new life somewhere far away from here, like switzerland. someplace where no one would know who we are, and wouldn’t care if two men slept together in the same bed.” your breath caught in your throat, but you didn’t move, not even an inch. you didn’t answer. no, you couldn’t, not when you knew what they would do to people like you.

“i don’t think a place like that exists, not yet at least.”

“maybe not, but i’d rather chase a lie than live without you.” the both of you turned in bed, to face each other. you looked at him, then, just barely, you smiled softly at him.

“have you always been this poetic?”

“only when i’m terrified. or in love.” bucky shuffled, sitting up. “can i..?” he looked at you, and you nodded. you moved closer to him, and let him kiss you. he pulled you onto his lap, all while continuing to kiss you.

“if we keep this up, someone’ll talk.”

“then let them.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out a button. “here. from my uniform. soldiers give the second button to someone they love. first one’s too proud, second one is close to the heart.” you stared at it momentarily, before reaching out to grab it. you held it in your palm as if it was something fragile, as if it would shatter. you placed the button underneath your pillow

“what if i lose it?”

“you won’t.” bucky kissed your forehead, innocently, before moving lower to kiss your neck as delicately as he could. “would you let me..” he looked down at your crotch, before looking back up at you. you were inexperienced, but he definitely wasn’t.

“yes, james, yes.” you nodded, nervously.

“it’s okay, i’ll be nice for you, darling. don’t have to take too much at once.”

“you promise? you won’t push me too hard, too fast?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a last ditch attempt to retreat to safer emotional ground.

“of course, darling. come on, strip for me.” bucky commanded, and you shyly removed your shirt and pants. “holy..” his brain practically short circuited when he saw you bare for the first time.

“you’re.. acting different, james.” you remarked, confused as to why bucky was so shocked.

“huh..? oh, uh, it’s nothing.” he snapped out of his trance, gently placing his hands on your bare hips. “just.. you’re just so pretty, darling.” he smiled as he kissed you gently, before taking his clothes off as well.

“you’re not so bad yourself.” you teased, voice filled with affection, and a tiny hint of mischief. “don’t let it get to your head, or i might start to think that you’re getting too cocky for your own good.” you added, with a wink.

“mhm, come on.” bucky let you lay against the pillows, while he propped your feet up on the bed as he slot his head in between your thighs. he kissed your inner thighs, and it made your cock twitch in your boxers. “it’s okay, darling. i’ve got you.” he pulled your boxers off gently, letting your cock spring out.

“oh, james..” you whispered, your eyes widening in surprise as the soft fabric of your boxers were gently tugged free. he leaned forward, kissing the base of your cock, before moving to the tip. “aah.. that.. that feels so good..” you breathed, your hips twitching involuntarily. “keep going..?” your words dissolved into a whispered plea, as his tongue began to explore you. he tried his best not to overwhelm you, after all, he was your first. he looked up at you from in between your thighs, and your eyebrows furrowed.

“sorry.. c-can’t help it.” you stammered, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain eye contact. “just.. just feels too good.” your hands fisted the sheets as you arched your back. he started to tease your tip with his tongue now, wanting to slowly but consistently build up the pleasure.

“is that okay, darling?” he asked, and you nodded profusely in response.

“y-yes, just like that..” you whispered, your hips rocking up to meet his tongue. “feels like i’m drowning in pleasure..” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed as you surrendered to the pleasure. “more, please, james.” you pleaded, your thighs trembling.

“mmh.” bucky hummed in approval, sucking on your tip. you whined, and tugged on his hair, unknowingly uncovering a kink that he, himself, wasn’t aware of. he stopped abruptly, trying to calm himself down from the sudden stimulation. “holy.. uugh, my god..”

“d-did i do something?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. when he finally looked up at you, his eyes were glazed over with lust, it was then, when you finally realised. “james.. i had no idea..”

“no. please, do that again.” he began to suck on your tip once more, waiting for you to tug on his hair more..

“aah, y-yes..” to please him, your fingers sunk into his short, dark hair, pulling gently. in response, his eyes rolled back.

“mmh..” bucky moaned, while his mouth was still on your cock, and it made you cum immediately. he tried his best to keep himself calm, but your thighs locked around his head as you came. when you finally came down from your high, you realised that he was rolling his hips against the mattress, trying to get off from you tugging on his hair.

“did i hurt you..?”

“no, of course not, darling. come here, please, i want more.. more of that.” you were pleasantly surprised as he turned into a needy mess, just from getting his hair tugged on. “do you want to suck me off too? or..”

“ah.. you want me to suck you off..?” you asked. “i.. i’ve never done that before, but if it’s something you want, i can.. i can learn, i’ll try for you.” you offered, climbing towards him. you got on your knees on the ground, while he sat on the edge of the bed.

“oh my god..” bucky was trying so hard to not cum just from the sight of you on your knees in front of him. “you can just.. try with your hands instead.”

“ah right.. with my hands.” you agreed, nodding as you slid your hands up his thigh, feeling the way his muscles tensed underneath your hands. “you want me to touch you.. like this?” you asked, your fingers gently stroking the inside of his thighs, making his breath hitch. “is it okay if i explore more.. here?” you trailed your touch lower, pulling your boxers off of you.

“yeah, please do.” he threw his head back, if he had to look down at you throughout the entire thing, he’d cum before you even touched him.

“oh my god, you’re so responsive, james.” you breathed, your touch becoming more confident as he seemed like he was enjoying it. “do you like that..? am i doing it right?”

“so- aagh, so good. yes, darling, k-keep going.” he whined when you circled your fingers around his tip. “g-gosh, please- aah..”

“tell me what you want, james, i want to learn.” you started to slowly stroke him, only for him to stop you, grabbing your wrist.

“no, want to cum inside you.” bucky spoke, absentmindedly, before realising what he had just admitted. you paused your ministrations, heart skipping a beat as his words sunk in.

“cum inside me.. like, inside my ass?” you asked, your voice a little shaky. “are you sure? i-i’ve never.. you know.” you trailed off, your face flushing red as you thought about the act.

“oh, darling, it’s okay. w-we don’t have to.” he pushed you back against the bed, and moved back in between your legs. “just let me make you feel good, okay?”

“you.. don’t have to worry about me. you’ve made me feel incredible already, james.” your hips jumped when he kissed your inner thighs. “i can take it.”

“are you sure? i don’t wanna rush you.” he looked up at you.

“yes, w-wanna make you feel good.” you cupped his face from in between your thighs. “i trust you, james.” his face flushed, you were so innocent, and so sweet, a huge contrast to him.

“you’re gonna kill me if you keep on sweet talking me like that.” bucky kissed your cheek, before letting you suck on his fingers. you sucked as well as you could, letting your drool drip down from the sides of your mouth. then, he pressed a finger into you slowly, making you gasp.

“it’s okay, you’re doing good.” he slowly thrusted his finger in and out of you, slowly stretching you open. soon after, he had three fingers in you, and you were moaning and gasping. “are you ready, darling?” you nodded diligently, face flushed bright red.

“please, do it.” he put you in a mating press, before he slowly pressed the tip against your hole, slowly entering you. you gasped at the stretch, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly.

“shh, i’ve got you.” bucky slowly entered you, inch by inch. when he finally sunk in fully, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing slowly. “you’re doing so good, i’m so lucky, so lucky to have you.” he started to slowly thrust, making you let out high-pitched whimpers that you didn’t even know were possible.

“y-you’re so.. haa.. so deep..” your head was thrown back as you let him slowly fuck you dumb. “feels so good..” you pulled his face towards you to kiss him, smiling softly at him. he started to thrust a bit harder, when he realised you’ve accommodated to his size, he hit your prostate perfectly, making you gasp for air with every thrust.

“you’re taking me so well.. nngh.. w-wouldn’t have it any other way.” he pressed your legs up against your chest, letting him fuck you impossibly deeper. all you could do was take it, letting him fuck you so good, you’d walk silly tomorrow.

“i-i’m gonna cum, james..” you whimpered, teary eyed as you spoke. “can i?.. p-please..”

“can’t say no to you, darling. not when i’m 9 inches deep inside you.” he leaned down to kiss you as you came, your cum spurting all over your abdomen. “aah- mmh, so good for me.” he started to thrust more frantically now, giving you a few harder thrusts before cumming inside with a groan. the both of you stayed together for a while, panting as you both came.

“i love you, sergeant.”

“love you too, officer.”

[helloledena]

Uh-oh... I'm falling in love~

Synopsis: Kakashi though he had everything under control, especially his feelings. But one ninja from Village hidden in mist was enough to change that. Oh how wrong he was...

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader (but in Kakashi's pov 🙂‍↕️)

Content: fem! reader, slow burn, strangers to "something" to lovers, light smut, mention of depression, lot's of thoughts, lot's of confusion.

Word count: 8.3k (😬)

A/N: Kakashi's character is so complex and hot and hard to write and hot and tragic but hot, so yeah, love him so much *.*

pervert.

When the saleswoman at his favorite bookstore gave him a raised eyebrow, all Kakashi could do was smile while scratching the back of his head in a manner that reeked of humor.

"I understand why you wanted to read Make-out Paradise… but now even the other two books?"

"What can I say, it really drew me in."

"And.. you say you've read it..."

"Yes, I've read it three times already, I think it's time to find out what happens in the sequel, don't you think? Hahaha" he let his body wiggle a little, and his free eye rolled up into a smile.

"Pervert," the girl muttered as she slid off the counter and went to get more books.

The ninja tiredly scanned the other books on display on the counter. The well-known novel "Life of a shinobi: Honor or Death" caught his eye. With a soft sigh, he picked up the book, turned it upside down, and began to stare at the wall clock that didn't actually work.

He would never admit it out loud, but reading an erotic novel, in which the most exciting thing is actually the various lovemaking positions, had become his new favorite way to distract himself. The distraction from the dead bodies he was cleaning after massacre several months prior; from the feeling of total guilt of allowing Itachi, the boy with soft eyes and always a calm expression on his face Itachi, to go and slaughter everyone in his clan; from death of his friends..

Not to speak of it, he realized that nothing calmed him as much as re-reading the same book with the light and warm plot. The fact that he could relive what he knew would end well gave him a sense of comfort that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Life was bearable again. Just a bit. Just a little bit more, he didn't want to kill himself.

"Your books,"  mumbled the saleswoman into her chin, still clearly under the impression, as she quickly took the money from him "enjoy the rest of your day."

"Thank you. Be sure that I will. Ha! I mean... not in that way..." the now blushing girl looked at him as if he had gone completely mad. He felt his own cheeks slowly warming up "well, anyway... I'm going now. You! You have a nice day... really nice day..."

His smiling aura slid at a moment as he left the shop. He put the third part of “Make-Out” in his shoulder bag, while opening the second one as he walked slowly in an unknown direction. What is he gonna do now? Maybe he should go to get some ramen? But he failed to keep Obito's promise, he couldn't save Rin from death, his father wasn't there to see how much he had progressed. Perhaps he could go back to that cursed rock again. Yeah, that seems like better idea.

"Kakashi!!!" he heard Gai shouting for him from a distance "my eternal rival!!!! Come! Let’s see who can drink more sake before nightfall!!"

But he just continued walking, looking at the first page of the book. He reminded himself that if he does not get involved no one would die because of him. If he doesn't intervene, it wouldn't hurt as much if someone from them died. If he doesn't get involved, perhaps those damn stubborn people would finally realize how truly awful person he is.

When he reached the next corner between streets, he was about to run the rest of the way, but a melodic voice froze him in his tracks.

"Are ninjas in this silly village not taught manners?" He turned and saw a girl leaning against one of the buildings at the corner. How, in the hell, hadn't he noticed her presence before? He decided to let his visible eye wander into a something that seemed like smile.

"I really don’t know what you’re talking about…"

"Pfft" the girl continued to lean her head against the wall, staring at Kakashi with a smirk on her face; her relaxed body language contradicted the words she spoke to him, as if she wasn't intimidated in the slightest "The famous copy ninja Kakashi Hatake, known to all bounty hunters, his name written in more bingo books than can be counted... Yet, you appear to be even more of a creep than the old man who wrote that perversion you're reading"

Kakashi felt strange at her words, gripping his kunai knife tightly in the pocket of his pants. Was she an enemy? He quickly surveyed the area suspiciously as he seemed to be merely searching for a more comfortable way to stand. Hidden Mist Village headband... what the hell?

"Well.." now he was looking cautiously in the direction of the girl "you talk about manners, and you didn't introduced yourself... very hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Hmmm" the girl smiled again, and then pulled out a scroll from her pocket that opened in front of Kakashi "I have permission. And besides, I'm done with my work for now, so I’ll be leaving today. I was just wondering if you really are as cold hearted as everyone says..."

"And?" he looked away from the scroll, returning his gaze to the book that he still held open in his left hand "are they right?"

"I can only say that I'm disappointed" he felt the girl shrug her shoulders "well, see you next time, pervert."

He just hummed. Before he turned and continued walking towards that cursed, stupid rock, he heard the voice again.

"Oh, and did you hear," he looked and she was smiling very widely; something hot filled his stomach "that now the 4th part is being written? I mean, the creepy old man... you already know who I'm talking about."

She winked and disappeared from his sight as silently as she had come. As he continued to observe the now empty space where she had been a second ago, he felt feverishly lucky that he had not learned the girl's name. And if something happened to her, her name would not appear before his eyes in his nightmares.

mercy.

It was the 4th day of the chunin exams and Kakashi couldn't sit and wait any longer. The link with the birds that were relaying information about the happenings had been cut since Orochimaru had magically appeared, then disappeared. He felt nervous. He felt nervous and noticed that it came out in the way he peeled an orange, in the way he would grip the doorknob when he left the room to get some air, and in the way his leg bounced every now and then.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been so harsh with Iruka a few days earlier, saying that his students were now warriors. But he knew that if he had shown even a fraction of the insecurity he felt, his decision would not have carried the authority that now have. So because he wanted his ego to remain intact he left the company of the other jonin, who would probably feel his nervousness at any moment, then climbed onto the roof of the Hokage building and let the sun caress him.

They have the best chance to survive in the shinobi world if they ruthlessly face every obstacle. They have the best chance to survive in the shinobi world if they ruthlessly face every obstacle. I did not send them to their deaths. I did not send them to their deaths. Kakashi repeated those sentences to himself more than he would like to admit.

With big sigh he opened the 3rd book of Make-Out and stared blankly at the pages.

"Hahahaha, wait, wait, you're still reading that nonsense? How long has it been? 4 years?"

His smile curved beyond his will, though she didn't see it because of his mask. He didn't hear her when she got closer to him, like few years prior. How wonderful...

"And who are you?" he looked at her now with his head tilted to the side.

"Oh, that hurts, you know" said the girl with a sneer in her voice, sliding next to him "I know I'm not that *ultra famous* like you are, but we've already met. Plus even I have a target on my head now. These criminals' bingo books, blah blah" and Kakashi was aware of that. When he was in the Land of Waves on a mission with his team, about a month ago, he took Zabuza's bingo book with him. As he flipped through the pages he saw a familiar face, although for a moment he was slightly unsure if it was the girl he met a few years ago. The scar on her cheek was new...

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

Name: y/n

Rank: unknown, approach with caution

Village of Origin: A Hidden Mist village, Land of Water

Known Techniques: water manipulation, blood manipulation

Orders: wanted dead or alive

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

"Ah, many new faces lately..." he cooed while watching over village in those quiet moments. How the hell she keep finding him when he is alone? And he didn’t have much alone time since becoming leader od Team 7.

"By the way, your kids are holding up well there, as far as I could see" - now he looked at her "if I hadn't seen other things in my life, I would say that they are very young. But we both know it could have been worse. They'll finish the obstacle... they had that crazy determined look in their eyes about half a day ago."

"Search birds are not working for 3 days now."

"Ah well, we "watermen" don't use birds for surveillance. That's what you should have learned at your sweet little academy."

"The fact that you're not on the organizing team for this exams and yet have your own means of monitoring shouldn't surprise me?" Kakashi knew more than he asked. The ninja of the Village Hidden in the Mist were not at all interested in the official ninja ranking that the other villages held so dearly. They were ruthless warriors, deadly as soon as they left the academy, probably even then at chunin level. Now this is simply gathering information… he was aware of that from the moment the first registration from that village for the chunin exams in the last 7 years came. Only Kakashi wanted to know why…

"You know" the girl now closed her eyes and laid so still for a few minutes that the copy ninja thought she fell asleep "even though the rest of the ninjas in my village are furious because of what happened to Zabuza, I'm very grateful to you. I mean, I really wasn't the least bit touched by anything that happened to that... that.. him. But the way you treated Haku's body…"

Kakashi felt his stomach acid rising in his throat. Haku... another mistake of his. Another victim of chidori that shouldn't have been. Haku had a soul as pure as snow, Haku should have escaped... Haku shouldn't have ended up like Rin.

"In any case" now she opened her eyes, slightly teary, keeping Kakashi rooted in place "you showed mercy that our village has not experienced in a long time. Thank you for that. Especially since it was a boy who was kind."

Kakashi let out a soft breath although to his ears it was almost as loud as a scream. No one had ever seen him that way. No one had ever called him merciful... He felt dizzy... what the hell was this woman doing to him...

"Didn't you say last time that you made sure I'm cold-blooded like everyone says?"

"I think I actually said that I was disappointed. And by disappointed, I meant that I was expecting someone with a dirty aura, and I got something completely opposite."

Kakashi hummed, now loking at the village. But still feeling her eyes on him.

"And didn't you say you don't remember me?"

"Huh. Tushe."

stupid distraction.

Ever since he saw y/n at the time of chunin exams, Kakashi actually, even 6 months later, hasn't stopped seeing her. It turns out that y/n has actually been in high demand in the Lands of Water since last January, with a huge bounty on her head. Words circulated that with her blood manipulation, she forced the Mizukage's own brother to cut himself bit by bit with his blade until he died by his own hand in a pool of blood. Rumor has it that she left a letter written in his blood which said that his death was compensation for the rape of the girls from the Village Hidden in the Mist, one of whom is her cousin. Since blood revenge is completely justified in the villages of more southern longitude, the Mizukage made all the criminals of those villages duty to kill y/n on the spot or bring her alive. That's why she is in all bingo books.

He hadn't heard much about on whose permission she was in Konoha before, but when Tsunade came back and became Hokage she gave y/n asylum and declared her an auxiliary force. It turns out that during the chunin exams, she helped the village a lot in monitoring the enemy even though she didn't have to and therefore Tsunade befriended her very quickly.

What Kakashi really couldn't understand at the begining was how everyone got close to her so quickly. He found himself pretty often following y/n as she moved around Konoha, looking for anything that would make his suspicion justified. He watched when she stops by the market for fresh fruits and veggies, or talks to Kurenai in the street with a big smile, or when she practices her water control by the stream next to half a kilometer from the memorial stone. He wished he could just stand next to her and feel the warmth radiating from her up close again as she squirmed when she talked.

Which was out of the question now, sure, because she didn't want to talk to him anymore. But it certainly didn't stop him from being attracted to her warmth. Of course, it wasn't like that for the whole 6 months, it even seemed to him that she enjoyed being in his company for the first month. She kept popping up, each time making no sound as usual and going on and on about how Naruto had gotten stronger, how Kakashi needed to be more gentle with Sasuke, how maybe it was better for Sakura to learn 1 on 1 new techniques to help her reach personal, not someone else's potential. She told him how in her village she liked to go to the banks of the harbor early in the morning and look for children who were fishing by themselves and to use her "magic" to pull out a few fish. They would laugh and call y/n princess of the sea. With a very serious expression on her face she listed endless crazy reasons why Kakashi could wear a mask and swore in front of everyone present (even though they were actually alone) that one day she would find out what his face looked like. And when she talked she was beautiful.. actually, she was always beautiful. He mostly listened in silence, allowing the warm feeling in his chest to grow little by little with each of their conversations. He realized that he began to take the path to the memorial stone more often where there was a better chance of her jumping out. Once, she even came along with him as far as the stone itself, bowed and stood quietly for a while before whispering "at least you have a place to mourn your loved ones."

 However, that huddled routine that Kakashi looked forward to more than he'd like to admit stopped 10 days after Sasuke disappeared, and he ran into her for the first time after the failed mission. "You shouldn't blame yourself, you did everything you could" she was silent for a few minutes "I don't think you really could have stopped him.. you said yourself that Sasuke was stubborn. If you managed to bring him home, the question is whether he would still want to be a part of the team...". When Kakashi was still silent and tried to turn and leave she spoke again "When I lost my cousin I couldn't sleep for days, I blamed myself and wanted to die. But I realized that what was happening to us was inevitable, if she had survived then maybe the Mizukage would have sent his guards and...” “You trying to cover your guilt with failed excuses shows what person you are like.. I will not live in such a miserable field” when the anger came out of him with that sentence Kakashi realized how wrong he was and tried to speak again, but a cold "I got it, go bathe in guilt if that's what you want" cut him off with eyes that glared at him. Y/n left after that and didn't speak to him again to this day.

So he was left to watch her from a distance. In moments when he felt lonely he blamed her. He often let his frustration get the better of him and then tried to talk to others about his doubts and pin his ugly feelings on y/n. Unfortunately for him, everyone loved her, starting with Gai who was finally getting a talkback about the flower of youth and someone with whom his passionate level would be similar.Kurenai finally felt close to a female ninja and laughter could always be heard from Tsunade's office when she was in. Genma showed a closeness to her like he hadn't with anyone in a long time... Kurenai even mentioned that they went on a date after some difficult mission. Which is perfectly fine and didn't leave Kakashi choking on a feeling he hadn't felt before at all. Hot again, but not in a nice way, it even felt a little like anger. And now he was standing in the Hokage's office wondering how a ninja with chakra that was impaled on a water core could cause so much fire.

"Well Kakashi, it's time for another S-rank mission" Tsunade smiled at him, holding sake in her left hand. It was already dusk and her paperwork work was due in about an hour, so her advisors weren't in the room "I hope you had enough time to rest."

"And if I said I didn't, it wouldn't change the situation much" he wasn't looking anywhere in particular while keeping his hands in his pockets. He was on the last mission for a full 3 weeks. Of course he was chakra exhausted. Of course he felt tired. Of course he wanted to do nothing but sleep, read Make-out, and visit the memorial stone. And check out what y/n is doing…

"You know yourself that the level of missions has increased since the death of the 3rd Hokage and the destruction of the village. All our enemies strike us now because they're hoping to catch us in weakness. Unfortunately we don't have enough jonin to cover the steady increase in S rank missions...so there is no time for long breaks. This one is especially hard, so you'll get an escort."

"Ah, escort..." now he was looking at the ceiling, how interesting tiles... "didn't you say that sending couple jonin rank ninjas on a mission is a waste of resources? That it should be done only in exceptional cases? Or you've actually started caring about me? In that case my heart is about to break…"

"This is an exceptional case, Kakashi" Tsunade got up from the chair and sat on the table directly observing Kakashi "the fact is that many jonin go on missions with their genin and chunin and they consider it a kind of vacation, because all those missions are B rank at worst. However, that privilege has been taken away from you since Sasuke escaped and Naruto went to train who knows where with Jiraiya" when she noticed that Kakashi would not respond to her remark she sighed deeply and continued "since this mission involves going into enemy territory you will take escort."

"Enemy territory?"

"Land of Waves to be precise. Y/n was already notified this morning that she has been assigned an S rank mission and will need to be your guide and support."

"Y/n?!" Kakashi felt his anger spreading through his body, so he tried with all his might, fists clenched in his pockets, to calm his breathing; he spoke very slowly and quietly "y/n has a huge bounty on her head in those villages. Or did you miss that? They will kill her as soon as she gets close."

"The scroll that was stolen is very important to Konoha, Kakashi " she held the tip of the nose with her eyes closed "y/n knows the risk and she accepted it. It was her duty at the end of the day" as she looked at him determinedly "as it was yours to take orders from the Hokage. You have a mission to complete, and for efficiency you'll bring a guide with you, who, if I must remind you, is also a jonin who does S-rank missions. You will take care of each other."

"You can't send her with me" he couldn't stop his legs from getting a little closer to her "you can't send her there, it will only be a big distraction."

"The decision has been made" she handed him the scroll looking at him resolutely "the deadline for the mission is 1 week. If you do not return by then, help will be sent to you. All the details are in the scroll, I expect a successful report when you return. That's it, you can go."

"But, Lady Tsunade –"

"That's it Kakashi" a small crack was heard from the wood of the table that cracked under Tsunade's pressure "you can go."

Damn it he thought.

i’m so sorry.

"Of course you're late" y/n looked at Kakashi leaning against the wall of village gate, her bag on the floor between her legs.

"You won't believe what an infestation of angry geese was in front of my house" he smiled at her, scratching the back of his head.

"Yes, yes. Move then..." she just walked away leaving him standing there for a few moments staring at her. He wondered if she knew where he was going before every mission. He wondered if she could see through his acting with that haunting gaze.

-

After few hours passed, in not so pleasant but endurable silence, air was getting colder. Kakashi felt his fingers slowly tingle, frantically trying to warm them in his pockets.

"Fuck.." muttered next to him y/n holding a finger in the air that was covered in water and her chakra "fuck, fuck."

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, observing their surroundings. They were around 25 kilometers away from Konoha for a pretty short time because they were running most of the way wanting to reach the border of Land of Water by evening. It's only about an hour to the small town. They were currently in an open area and Kakashi desperately wanted to get out of the way as soon as possible.

"Once every few years Land of Water gets a period of so-called „false winter“"y/n blurted out through her teeth, keeping her gaze still on the water that was wrapped around her finger "you see? There is a thin layer of hoarfrost gathering on the surface. It's not cold enough to freeze, but maybe, in 2 days, it will be enough."

"And what do those winters look like? Should we expect snow?"

"Probably not. The problem with this winters is that they are very cold and wet. On the other hand they never last more than a week. But people freeze to death because winters come so suddenly, so we have to be very careful. And of course, to return home as soon as possible."

"Clearly..." Kakashi spoke in a moment, swearing at his fate. This mission probably couldn't get any worse.

He watched y/n wipe hands on her pants, and warming the hand she had attached the water to by slowly blowing into it. He couldn't resist the urge and slowly put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him with a look that almost brought him to his knees. Honest, clean, which allows the color of her eyes to completely come to the fore.

"Don't worry" he said quietly, now in some incomprehensible fear of not scaring her further, and with a huge desire to slowly dance his fingers on her face... to get rid of every concern "we will finish this mission successfully. Everything will be alright."

"Mhm" the girl in front of him uttered a falsely cheerful voice "and even if something happens, you won't have to swim in pool of pathetic excuses so I'm not even worried about you" she slipped out of his touch with the speed of an eye blink "it's time to go and find a room if we don't want to sleep in the cold."

"Y/n..." he tried

"Come on" she interrupted him already ready for a new round of running "don't lose sight of me."

-

When they arrived at the room they had barely rented as it was the last one in a shack at the very end of a famous town, within reach of a Village Hidden in Mist, Kakashi thanked every exalted being that existed for the 2 large separte beds in their room. As he made the beds, placed the maps on the floor of the room, took the food out of his bag, he listened to the sound of the shower coming out of the bathroom and suddenly he felt terribly hot. Although he had never been intimate with a woman... or anyone really, out of constant fear of getting hitched and that person dying, Kakashi actually often felt very lustful. It had appeared in flashbacks before, when he saw a pretty girl at one of his missions, when he passed a public women's bath, when he was reading his books... however he had never wanted something or someone so much that it made him act on that lust. The present moment, on the other hand, was driving him completely insane. Yes, he thought y/n was very very beautiful and her strong character was surprisingly attractive. He thought her smile was as sweet as honey and there was nothing warmer than her beautiful disposition. And yes, sure, one time when they happened to be together in a bar with mutual friends, not talking to each other of course, he got surprisingly turned on by one look at her bare legs. Although now he thought that that arousal could not even be considered arousal because what he was feeling right now was 10 times stronger. When he realized that if he continued like this he would either go crazy, or unwillingly go and do something.. with her, or cum within a full minute Kakashi went into deep concentration considering the mission.

After a few minutes y/n came out in a plain t-shirt and shorts, no bandages on her arms and legs so now he could see a lot of small cuts on the lenght of her arms. He felt that she could see that he was looking at her and he just kept his eyes on her waiting for her to speak.

"We have very hard endurance training as kids" y/n muttered noticing Kakashi is staring at her "they're not as gentle with us at the academy as they are with you. Especially if you are female."

"I understand" he looked at her with full attention "it must have been difficult for you."

"Of course it was" she threw herself on the bed with a sigh, letting her wet hair fall on the pillow "although we don't talk much about it. What happened happened."

"Does it bother you that I saw?" he left the question floating in the air. Her thighs were dripping with water that she hadn't wiped off. He wondered what it would feel like to run his lips over them.

"No" she fell silent a little and looked him directly in the eye "even though I don't agree with you about some things, I believe you. I've seen how you treat others. You always put someone else's life before your own and I really appreciate that. So the result is that I'm not ashamed of who I am right now. At least not in front of you."

Kakashi's legs walked on their own towards the bed where y/n lay. He wanted to comfort her, he wanted to kiss every cut on her body, he wanted to show her that she can show her vulnerable side. When she saw him coming towards her y/n sat down in a meditation pose leaving room for the ninja to sit on the other end of the bed which he did. When some time had passed Kakashi removed the headband from his other eye and looked at her with both eyes open. He noticed how the girl in front of him was trying like hell not to stare at his sharingan now, her eyes darting left and right as she paid attention to both eyes.

"I'm so sorry" mumbled Kakashi "I'm so fucking sorry for what I said the last time we spoked. If I could, I would do everything differently."

She watched him quietly. Then uncertainly reached out a shaky hand and touched his scar just below his eye which made Kakashi wince. What the hell was he thinking?! If she wanted to, she could have dug out his eye and taken it to the enemy!

"Sleep. Tomorrow is a tough one" he spoke harshly when, without looking at her again, he stood up and went to take a shower. Then hating himself, he entered the room again and saw her pretending to sleep with slightly red eyes from crying.

regrets.

The next day, they were already passing few small communites, moving through the Land of Waves. They only had a few more hours of walking left before they entered the Village Hidden in the Mist, and darkness was already slowly falling. Both of them had bought long coats on their way out of the city, so that the cold, which was slowly but surely getting into their bones, could be endured. However, Kakashi was feverishly aware of one thing – this all seemed too easy. They hadn't encountered a single ninja so far, there was no sign of anyone noticing who y/n was and the road was passable without control.

"Probably because of the cold " y/n mumbled trying to gather the cold mist into droplets on her palm when Kakashi shared his worries with her "I told you people doesn't handle it well enough in these parts."

"Hmm" he watched as the mist and chakra slowly danced and merged at the tip of her palm, making water "it would certainly be good if we didn't linger here for much longer. Considering how in demand you are here and how cold it can be."

"It's good that we left most of the things in that hut" now she let the water slowly drip from her fingers "being overloaded would only slow us down. And since sleeping in any hut here is not an option because of our bountys, and sleeping outside is not because of the cold, we can only finish the mission tonight and return to the hut tomorrow night."

"Sure thing, lady" he hummed.

-

It was the dead of night when they were half a kilometer from the base, which did not seem protected. Guards were probably inside because of the cold, Kakashi thought. The fog enveloped them and honestly suffocated him slightly even with the mask he always wore. When the wind blew, it would whip his face and make him shake for a moment. It was very cold. He watched as y/n looked at the white rabbit with small cut on right ear in confusion, crouching. He took out his kunai sorry little guy.

"No" she spoke quietly next to him "white rabbits are not always a distraction... don't worry."

"I hope you didn't trick me...trust me i will find out and it won't end well for you."

She glared at him, tilting her head to the side... a sarcastic smile moved to adorn her lips.

"How are you not ashamed?" she whispered, but because of the silence of the night he heard her very well "I sacrificed myself for your village in this half year than for mine my whole fucking life" she poked him in the chest with her finger "I was more polite to you than you deserve. And I would have fucking killed you in your sleep last night if I wanted to."

"You remained as fiery and hot as the last time I saw you" spoke a voice from the shadows behind them. Kakashi lifted his headband and grabbed the shuriken in his pockets. However a stiff y/n caught his attention more.

"Y/n" the copy ninja cracked "y/n what's going on?!"

"Shino..." she whispered confusedly looking into the darkness. How the hell do these swamp ninjas manage to be so damn quiet??

"What's up beautiful," out of the darkness, where y/n was looking, a tall ninja came out with the band of the village hidden in the mist hanging around his neck. His entire body except face was covered in bandages and a blade similar to Zabuza's was attached to his back… this is not good "you know I missed you."

"You tried to kill me" Kakashi watched y/n holding outstretched hand in front of her, chakra on the surface of her palm trembled slightly "I trusted you and you tried to kill me."

"Princess" a sneer was heard in his voice, he raised both hands above his head as if he wanted to show her that he did not want to hurt her "business is business, nothing personal."

"I loved you and you tried to kill me" her voice trembled as she turned her hand upwards and the ninja fell to his knees still with a smile on his face, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight

Kakashi tried to use the Sharingan to quickly assess the situation, but realized that there was nothing to be gained from it. The fog was too thick, the night was too dark and he didn't fucking know what to do. Should he summon Pakun? Should he kill the asshole on the spot?

"I see you still like bad boys, princess. But you yourself know that in the end you are regretted by everyone, in the end everyone sees how weak you are." Shino spoke with difficulty on his knees, a grimace on his face, probably due to blood manipulation "you still chose none other than Kakashi of sharingan. I'm impressed" he was looking at Kakashi now, a dirty smile returning to his lips "you know the redwater brothers want you dead ever since you killed Zabuza... that wasn't nice of you Kakashi."

"Ah, business is business, isn't it, nothing personal" Kakashi smiled with his eyes.

"Hah" Shino looked at y/n again "honestly, I never even loved you. What has to happen happens."

Then several things happens at once. Kakashi saw the ninja on his knees turning into water with his sharingan, and heard rustling behind them. Fucking water clone.

"Fucking shit -" Kakashi whispered furiously under his breath, quickly turning on his heels and activating chidori. A few seconds passed before he stood behind y/n shielding her back and pierced the spot where Shino's heart was with his chidori. The ninja fell from his hand, along with his blade with a dull thud. Kakashi turned to look at y/n who was looking at him with wide eyes and felt a searing pain in his chest. With a low curse he fell to his knees as he realised that he was almost cut open in half.

"No!" y/n shouted as she quickly knelt in front of him with her hands glowing with chakra "Kakashi, Kakashi, keep your eyes on mine."

Is this it? He thought as his head reeled. Although his eyes seemed to be open, he saw nothing. He only heard the soft sound of chakra vibrating somewhere nearby and shallow breats. Maybe some whimpers. But he wasn't sure.

"Kakashi! I will never talk to you again if you die now" a distant soft voice cracked "I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you."

"I l-lied" he spoke quietly, not sure if she heard him at all, but he tried anyway "you are very brave... so brave it scares me... So, of c-c-course you are not week. Of course you're not a dis-straction. Of course I don't regret going here with y-you."

"Look at me, I'm begging you."

The last atoms of power Kakashi focused on what appeared to be y/n's face. When his vision sharpened a little he saw a smile or a twitch, he wasn't quite sure, and the beautiful color of the eyes that he had come to love so much.

"You are so beautiful."

lavander.

When Kakashi woke up in a dark room that smelled of lavender he was sure he was dead. He tried to blink hard a few times and shake the sleep from his eyes before he managed to sit up. His mask was still there, though he was dressed in plain clothes and covered with a thick blanket. Although he was warm, the air in room was cold. He realized that he was in the hut where he and y/n had left their things before they went to the Land of Waves. When he turned to the right he saw lavender in a pot and a small letter. He took the letter and began to read.

By all accounts you should wake up before I’m back. I left medicinal herbs, tea and food on your table. Don't even think of touching the bandage. I managed to sew up the wound completely, but it's better that the bandage soaked with medicinal water stays until I return, just in case. Of the flowers in the local flower shop, there were only lavenders because of the winter, I hope you are not allergic. Hehe. I went to get that stupid scroll and finish the mission so I'll be back soon. Don't follow me. You lost a lot of blood and strength. Please wait. I'll be back, trust me.

P.S. I didn't peek under your mask. Pinky promise.

-

Those few hours in which Kakashi drank all the tea, ate all the food and thought about the best way to go after her, felt like days. He realized with great amazement that y/n had somehow managed to heal entire wound which now only itched, not hurt. He felt very exhausted as he looked out the window at the rain falling wrapped in a blanket. It must have been terribly cold outside. How many days did he sleep? How is y/n? Is she hurt? What if they catch her and kill her? What if she's already dead? How many days has she actually been out of the hut? If she is dead he will kill everyone who is responsible. But he is responsible... He let his guard down and let that jerk almost kill him and that's why y/n is out there alone now. He won't be able to live with himself if she's dead. He was too tired. He will rest for only half an hour more and then he will leave. Towards her. Yes, that sounds like a good idea.

Knock knock.

Kakashi stood up with his heart pounding. They found him. But if they found him that means they will wait there for y/n to come back and then kill her easily. He took the kunai, opened the sharingan eye and cautiously approached the door. He wouldn’t let that happen. When he flung open the door he saw y/n with gentle eyes watching him, a scroll in one hand, a Shino’s blade in the other. She was wearing a normal ninja uniform and was soaked to the core. Y/n smiled widely at him but fatigue was very visible on her face. Her body was shaking uncontrollably from the cold.

"Oh thank heavens, you're awake" it came as sigh from her lips "I didn't want to drop any of this on the floor. Sorry if you had to get up. Everything went smoothly. Mission is complete."

He quietly helped her inside, took the things from her hands and put them on the floor. When he went to turn on the shower so that somehow hot water would warm up y/n he realized that there was no use because the water had frozen in the pipes.

"The shower doesn't work" he rasped and realized that it was probably the first thing he had said in days "change into something dry. We need to warm you up."

Kakashi then placed 2 blankets over each other on his bed and pulled y/n who was now only in a t-shirt and shorts (because that was the only thing dry) into bed with him. He hugged her tightly, limbs completely intertwined, his hands rubbing hers, trying to bring some warmth back into her body. All this with full awareness of how she was lying next to him in just shorts and a t-shirt. He fought the growing erection in his underwear, thinking about anything but the woman in his arms that he wanted more than anything else.

"I thought you were going to die" she spoke quietly against his chest, probably more to herself than to him, but he certainly heard her very clearly.

"You saved my life, Thank you" he mumbled against her hair.

Now she cocked her head hard and fast locking her eyes with his, fire in them, just the way Kakashi loved it.

"If it wasn't for you, I would be dead" she snapped angrily, holding his gaze with hers, now he kept his sharingan eye open "I just did one tolerable, but miserable thing."

"You are extraordinary. Really. I’m all heald now thanks to you. When I woke up today I felt like whole new person. Thank you" he lightly touched her cheek with his hand "And I don't know if that went through your crazy little head, but the last thing I want is to let people I care about die while I'm just watching from the sidelines. That very much includes you."

As if momentarily embarrassed, she looked away from him and brought her head back to rest on his chest. She breathed deeply.

When he noticed that the normal temperature was slowly returning to her body and the shivers stopped being so strong Kakashi let out a soft laugh.

"I don’t believe a thing you say,"

"What?" y/n cocked her head again looking into Kakashi's one open eye with a confused expression. That made him grin even wider.

"I don't believe you didn't look under the mask."

The girl in his arms scoffed looking at him with mocking eyes "My curiosity is big, but not so much that I want to play dirty. If i really wanted to see what's underneath I'd make you show me yourself."

"And?" Kakashi felt his breath slowly run out of anticipation "do you want to see it that badly?"

She looked at his mask silently then studied his open eye.

"You want to show me?" she asked quietly, and he just continued to watch her, with an unknown glow. She slowly removed both hands from the blanket and ran her fingers to the top of his mask. Her hands were shaking slightly and Kakashi realized with something, ah here it is again, very warm in his stomach that she wasn't shaking from the cold this time. Y/n slowly removed the mask from his face as he watched her carefully. When the whole cloth was finally removed, she sighed deeply. A soft smile graced her lips.

"Ah, what a disappointment" her gaze circled all over his face "nothing of the huge lips and horse teeth."

Kakashi felt his lips curl into a smile. He hugged her a little tighter.

"You are so beautiful. Gorgeous even." she looked him in the eye and now he was terribly, terribly hot all over. No one ever addressed those words to him. His body just moved closer to her until her lips were only inches away from his. He felt her breath brush his lips. He was waiting for her to do something… anything.. to give him the green light. Because no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't move on his own. Such tender and fragile moments were not frequent in his life, and suddenly he was terribly afraid of breaking this too. However when y/n pressed her lips to his all worries were quickly erased from his mind.

They kissed deeply and slowly as he ran his hands all over her body. He made sounds he didn't know he was capable of, but realized that nothing compared to her sighs and moans from the kiss. He slowly moved from her lips to her neck which he had been watching for so long as they talked months from now, taking deep breaths.

"How perfect you are" he murmured as she melted in his arms. She ran her hands first over his shoulders, then his back, finally letting her hands go under his shirt. He moaned burying his head deeper into her neck.

"Kakashi..." came out of her mouth like a plea, as if it was too much for her.

"I know y/n, I know," he breathed a big, hard sigh as he held her hips tightly so she wouldn't move against him anymore. It was very clear to him that she felt how much he wanted her. And he now wanted her to show her how much he wanted her "can I touch you?"

She looked at him with a warm look and red cheeks, then nodded briskly.

He let his hand dance from her neck, over her stomach, down to her lower abdomen where he pressed his hand firmly.

He kissed all over her hands, all the little cuts he'd seen just a few days before.

"Perfect. So fucking perfect. Lift your hips for me pretty girl" he whispered softly.

When he took off her shorts and realized how wet she was, he almost cummed In his pants at that moment.

He just touched her enterance briefly and she moaned leaning into his touch. Nothing has happened yet and he was so fucking turned on. Turned on by her smooth skin, maddening smell, her sighs, moans... This is 100x better than any erotic novel. He slowly kissed her clit, than licked it experimentally. Y/n closed her eyes and left her hands flying to his hair, hips bucking up to meet his mouth.

'Look at me, let me see you" he darkly whispered against her pussy, looking at her with his both eyes. He then licked and sucked her swollen clit, eyes never leaving hers, making her moaning mess.

"Fuck Kakashi, fuck" she cried pressing one hand against her mouth, than changing mind and letting that hand grip on his hair too "i need you now. Please."

He stopped for a second watching her.

"Are you.. -"

"Yes, yes, and don’t you fucking dare to leave now."

"Sure thing pretty lady" he smiled against her heat.

He took his time, exploring every exposed piece of skin now that he took her t-shirt off too. He blinked open the sharingan again and he was so damn happy that he could predict how she would react to every touch. He looked at her; sprawled out underneath him, with her face flushed, lips swollen.

"Have I ever told you that you are perfect?" he had that boyish smile now, looking at her lovingly.

"Pervert" she grinned while kissing him quickly.

"Ah yes" he left few kisses to her neck again "I remember you calling me that a few times" he put his fingers on her clit making her to squirm with embarrassment.

"Please Kakashi" her voice was so fucking sweet "I need you. Please."

"Need you too" he mumbled against her lips "so much. My beautiful girl."

Then all he could feel was her. She clouded all five senses and he felt like he was going insane. It was over far too quickly.

"Madness" he whispered in her ear and nuzzled her neck, thrusting deep and steady "you are madness."

He gave a few last thrusts and reached down with his hand to help her finish. It wasn’t long until she was writhing and whimpering underneath him.

He kissed the top of her head before he pulled her into him protectively, feeling sleepy. Enjoying the feeling of her skin flush against his, her sweet smell and now steady breaths he felt his body completely relaxing.

As he slowly drifted off to sleep he asked quietly against her hair "do you want to go out sometime?"

[rika-mmendmethings]

Lethe Récords l Sylus

Summary: In the forgotten shadows of N109, Lethe, a humble record shop, becomes a sanctuary for secrets and records. Amid its vinyl aisles, a quiet connection forms between the shopkeeper, you, and Sylus over choice of vinyl and trade of thoughts. But it had been just your delusion, for the woman beside him was just the proof of that.

Warning(s): one-shot, partially canon (?), reader is implied to be female, reader is the owner of a record shop which is also kinda an intel hub, angst with (little?) no comfort, no happy ending (let's cry together), unrequited love, Sylus and mc are in a relationship

Word count: 3.6k

Now playing: Fine by Taeyeon

Notes: We all know Sylus is a record collector from his bond and the gift on his desk (Chaconne in G minor Vitali and a track of The Beatles). So I wanted a fic with a record shop owner reader and a collector Sylus with a little bit of fun twists. So here it is, except it's heart-shattering angst (whoops). Consider this early release of my appreciation for all those who support me. Anyways, Idk shit about classical music, but my boyfriend is into it, so he taught me, but I might've messed up his teachings a bit (or did I? idk). Hopefully, you enjoy this ♥ {Also, do you remember Chang from Risqué Sketches? He's about to make lots of appearances in my fics lol}

The N109 zone was a place where shadows whispered secrets, and the air was thick with the smell of damp asphalt, rusting steel, and things unsaid. It was a place where the law had all but forgotten its existence, a cityscape of hidden alleyways and dimly lit bars, where even the sunlight seemed hesitant to break through the layers of grime. But there, in the midst of it all, was a small oasis of refuge — a record store, no bigger than a mediocre apartment, nestled humbly between a pawnshop and a closed-up diner. Its name was Lethe, the place where the forgotten could be remembered, and where the living could lose themselves in the embrace of music that belonged to a different era.

The shop itself, a modest thing by the standards of the world outside, had lived for six years in quiet rebellion against the noise of the city — and it wore its age like a badge of honor. Its creaky wooden floors groaned with history, each board telling a story of moments, of hands that had come and gone, flipping through the endless rows of vinyl. 

The front window, where the evening light would filter in soft and golden, was always a little fogged, as if the outside world couldn’t quite reach inside. It framed a wooden sign that hung with quiet dignity, its curves and loops spelling out the name ‘Lethe’ in graceful cursive, a promise in every swish of the inked letters. The name itself seemed to hum softly, as though it carried a secret — a gentle invitation to forget, to step into another world. Beneath the sign, a poster tacked up crookedly on the door read: ‘From the worldly shackles and bounds you could leave, if you dare to embrace the music of Lethe.’  

The air inside was always laced with a heady mix of old paper, polished wood, and something more elusive. It clung to the walls and to the worn leather of the armchair in the corner, where many would sink into the embrace of a record’s melody, just to breathe in the atmosphere that Lethe breathed out. And then, there were the fairy lights, strung haphazardly across the ceiling, twinkling softly like distant stars in a sky that had forgotten the sun.

The records themselves lined the shelves like an old friend waiting to be discovered anew. Vinyl of every size and shape, from the dustiest blues and jazz to the most obscure classical works, gleamed under the soft glow of the lights. There were endless racks of albums, some well-worn, others pristine, each one a story in itself. 

Beyond the records, displayed with quiet pride, were the instruments — delicate pieces of craftsmanship, few in number but rich in history. A violin with a body carved so finely it seemed to hum with its own resonance, a guitar with strings that had never been plucked but still held the promise of music, a flute that glimmered with silver edges, its tone a silent call to the weary-hearted. They were art as much as they were function, set up carefully in their display cases like treasures too precious to be touched.

The walls, covered with a scattered array of posters, felt like a gallery of past artists and long-forgotten musicians. Each poster was more than just a picture; it was a moment frozen in time, a testament to the golden eras of music that whispered through the very walls of Lethe. Names like Coltrane, Chopin, and Fitzgerald hung side by side with the obscure and the unknown, faces frozen in mid-song, lost to the ages, yet alive within these walls. 

But the shop wasn’t just a haven for vinyl collectors; it was a hub for everyone who was involved in the crime and gore of the area. During the day, fewer people came and went, but it was never the same when the sun sank behind the horizon. At night, the record store became something else. It transformed into a marketplace of whispers, of people looking for connections, for someone to share a secret with. And in the midst of it all, there was you, always behind the counter, always listening, always willing to trade what you knew for a few hundred dollars, a few hundred dollars that would let you scrape by for another month. Because after all, survival amid a criminal filled city required knowledge of valuable information and not dusty records.

You were only twenty-four-something, but life had already etched a certain tiredness in your bones. The dark circles under your eyes weren’t from sleepless nights spent worrying over a future you couldn’t quite see. They were the result of endless days in a shop that sold more than music. She peddled information too. And in this world, information was currency — dangerous currency, but currency all the same. The deals were made in whispers, promises sealed with thin lips and even thinner smiles, and no one ever seemed to care about the weight of the things they traded for their little piece of safety. 

It was one of those rare, sun-drenched afternoons in the N109 zone when the dust in the air caught the light, and the streets seemed a little quieter, as if the world was holding its breath. Lethe, as always, stood in the shadow of the chaos that thrived outside, its small wooden sign swaying gently in the breeze. The shop was still, save for the occasional rustle of vinyl, the murmur of the turntable spinning quietly in the corner, and the soft click of your fingers tapping against the counter.  You were lost in your own thoughts, letting the hum of the day wash over you.

Then, the bell over the door jingled.

It was a sound that barely broke the silence, but the instant it did, something in the atmosphere shifted. A weight descended, and you looked up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes met him.

Sylus.

The moment he stepped inside, the shop seemed to go still. Sylus was the leader of Onychinus, undisputed king of the N109 zone, a figure whose name was spoken in hushed tones, whose reputation preceded him like a dark cloud that rained fear. With a bounty on his head worth billions, he was both a criminal mastermind and a myth — one that most were too terrified to approach. Yet here he was, strolling into Lethe like he owned the place. 

He was tall, impeccably dressed in all-black dress shirt with slacks, and there was a certain elegance to the way he carried himself. His eyes, a burning ruby red, seemed to see everything at once, and yet, nothing at all. There was something in that gaze — cold, calculating — as if the entire shop were just another piece on a chessboard, one he was already strategizing his next move on.

You thought he had been here for just business so you were mildly surprised when you saw him make no move toward the counter and rather stay planted in front of the shelves. His presence filled the room, his height towering over the rows of vinyl, his sharp eyes scanning the shop with an air of quiet condescension. His gaze briefly flicked to you before settling on the rows of records in front of him. 

His fingertips trailed over the surface, gently exploring the textured artwork, feeling the grooves and edges of the cover. His movements were slow, deliberate, like a man who was never in a rush, never worried that time might slip through his fingers. You noticed him picking out something from the corner of your eye and instantly buried your face in the magazine you had been holding after you saw him approach the counter. 

You had been doing your best to appear nonchalant when, without warning, the magazine was plucked from your hands. Before you could even process what had happened, it was placed back between your outstretched palms, but this time, something was different. The letters now seemed suddenly clearer, more legible. And with a surge of mortifying realization, you understood — you had been holding the magazine upside down. The worst part? He had right away corrected it, without a single word, and that quiet action made you want nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear. 

“Good afternoon,” his voice was smooth, like velvet, but with an undercurrent of something sharp. 

“What can I help you with today?” you asked, trying to shake off the former awkwardness.

“I’m looking for information. About Chang. You know who he is, don’t you?”

You could almost feel the weight of his expectations pressing down on you. He wasn’t here to waste time. He had no need to make small talk. You swallowed hard, “I know of him,” you replied carefully. “What do you want to know?”

Sylus didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a slow step closer to the counter, leaning slightly, his eyes still on her, still calculating, as if the conversation itself was part of some grand scheme. "Chang is dealing with uncut diamonds, isn't he?" Sylus continued, his tone still so smooth, so assured, as though this wasn’t a conversation, but an order. “I need to know what he plans to do with them. The man is cleaning after himself.”

He picks up a small hourglass from your table, playing around with it as he continues, “He’s a rat in my meticulously arranged system. I plan to have him gone.” He flips the hourglass, putting it back down on your table and shifts his ruby gaze to you as he starts, “And time is a very valuable factor of mine so I’d suggest you start now.” 

The sand falls from the upper chamber, it trickles down in a continuous, delicate cascade, each grain slipping past the narrow constriction of the hourglass’s neck. You were aware that the information that you might be handing might be the reason for multiple deaths but you had stopped caring a while ago in this kind of business.  You feel like a bomb ticking above you and usher to tell him whatever you know about Chang the businessman. 

“Chang is arranging the delivery of those diamonds through ocean freight. He already has everything ready on the docks and is just waiting for the cargo ship to arrive. The estimated time of shipment should be around 7 in the evening today.”

Sylus hummed, rubbing his chin in thought. You thought that that was it and he’d be paying you and going off on his way. Sylus, to your surprise, seemed to care less for the information. He fetched out his card and even placed the record he had picked on the table, intending to pay for both the information and the vinyl. 

Huh. You never expected him to be someone who was interested in record collecting.

You sneaked a glance at the cover of the record he was purchasing. It was a one-sided vinyl featuring the track “Yesterday” by The Beatles. You had heard the track before and had concluded it to be a pretty sentimental track. Surprises after surprises for you, he was a melancholic person as well. You handed him his black card back, along with the bill and the now wrapped-up record. You watched him walk away, something in you telling that this won’t be your last meeting.

Weeks passed, and the steady rhythm of Lethe continued — the low hum of vinyl spinning, the soft murmur of conversation, the quiet rustling of records as they were flipped through. But something had changed in the air of the shop, something subtle, a shift that you couldn’t quite place at first. Sylus came in more frequently, not just to inquire about shady deals or exchange whispered secrets for a few hundred dollars, but for no reason at all — or so it seemed. The lines between business and something else blurred with each visit. 

At first, it was still the same. Sylus would walk in with that knowing, calculated air, his ruby eyes scanning the room with a hunger that went beyond the information he sought. He’d ask about Sherman, about the mafiosos, about anyone who held a thread of power he could pull — and in exchange of a few thousand dollars, you would give him the answers he craved. Each transaction was sharp and direct, devoid of warmth. But soon enough, those visits began to change.

At first, it was small things — casual remarks, little moments of lightness. Sylus would comment on the weather, his words almost a challenge as if he were testing the waters. He’d ask if she had heard a certain piece of music lately, or inquire about a specific artist he hadn’t seen in the shop before. The questions were simple, almost innocent, and yet, there was an edge to them, an underlying curiosity that didn’t feel quite like the cold precision of their first meeting.

You noticed it one afternoon, when Sylus wandered through the aisles, running his fingers across the records, almost idly. You had unknowingly trained your eyes on him, not even bothering to act busy. He caught your gaze a few times and each time you apologized profusely but didn’t stop your blatant gawking. 

“You know… for someone who seems so apologetic for staring,” he started with that characteristic half-smile, the one that was always so difficult to read. “You do seem to be doing a lot of it.” His crimson gaze met yours as he finished and you felt yourself grow warm at that. 

His words were teasing, but they didn’t hold the same edge they once had. They were softer, more casual, as if he didn’t need to guard every word with the same razor-sharp caution. He had become a regular — not just for business, but for the quiet company that Lethe and its records and you offered, even if it was laced with a few words and comfortable silences.

Each time though, without fail, he’d slip a record onto the counter. Not always a new purchase, sometimes the same album again, as though each listen brought him closer to understanding something. You began to notice the pattern — the records he bought were always melancholic, always steeped in the kind of sadness that you found hard to ignore. Bach, Chopin, Beethoven, Rachmaninoff. Composers who spoke of love, loss, and longing. 

By the time another boring Sunday night rolled around, you were used to the silence of the shop. It was an uneventful evening, the rain tapping lightly against the windows, a soft rhythm accompanying the quiet. You moved with the routine of someone who had long since learned how to close up without haste, the motions automatic as you arranged your desk. You were just about to switch off the lights  when the bell above the shop chimed, cutting through the tranquility like a knife.

You froze.

The rain had picked up outside, the sky darker now, and through the window, she saw him — Sylus, drenched, standing in the doorway, his usual air of command slightly softened by the water dripping from his coat. His eyes met yours with an intensity that took your breath away, as though there was something unsaid hanging between them, something that neither of them had dared to acknowledge before.

He stepped inside without a word, shaking the water from his coat, and made his way toward the counter. As he approached, he placed a vinyl gently on the surface, his fingers lingering on the edge of the sleeve as if the act itself were a delicate ritual.

Bach. Chaconne in D minor.

Your breath hitched. You recognized the piece immediately — a work so raw, so filled with longing and pain, it was almost impossible to listen to without feeling the weight of its emotion. The D minor Chaconne was a masterpiece of reflection and transformation, a piece about loss and the quiet acceptance of it, a song that carried the weight of a thousand broken hearts, yet somehow held a grace within its sorrow. It was a piece that was both deeply personal and universal, speaking to something buried within every soul.

For a long moment, Sylus stood silently, his eyes watching you with that same calculating gaze, but now there was something more in them. A flicker, almost imperceptible, but undeniable. It was vulnerability — or maybe it was the hint of something softer that you had never seen before. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by his lips set in a firm line.

"I’d like to buy this." he almost pleaded, his voice carrying some guilt when he saw that you were about to close the shop.

You nodded slowly, swallowing the lump that had suddenly lodged in your throat. You spoke, attempting to break the silence, “It’s one of my favorites.”

Sylus’s gaze held the weight of a profound realization as he stared at the record. Then, without breaking eye contact with it, he reached for his wallet. He didn’t speak as you made the bill, but his presence filled the room, as heavy as the rain pouring outside.

You carefully wrapped the vinyl in paper, fingers trembling slightly. Your mind raced, the significance of his choice not lost on you. The Chaconne wasn’t just music; it was a message. 

As you handed the record back to him, your heart pounded in your chest, a traitorous whisper creeping into your thoughts. Was this a hint? A suggestion? A gesture? Something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you wonder if — just maybe — he saw you the way she had started to see him. 

Perhaps, at that moment, he wasn’t just buying a record. 

“Good night,” he said quietly. And with that, he turned and left, disappearing into the rain, leaving you standing there, breathless and delusional. 

You had played that record for weeks since then, drowning in the music, its meaning and thoughts that rose from it. It was a classical piece, but it wasn’t just any piece. It was a song about realization — a song about a man who finally understood his own heart, his own feelings. You felt her heart flutter as you listened to the record time and time again, the faint hope in your chest blooming into something fragile, something delicate. Could he… could he be feeling what you felt? The idea seemed impossible, yet that song, that beautiful, aching song, seemed to speak directly to you. 

But hope, you knew, was a dangerous thing. And three weeks passed without a word from Sylus.

When he finally returned, he wasn’t alone. The woman who stood beside him was everything you were not, yet everything that he deserved. And that train of thought made your chest heavy. 

Where you were worn, tired, and sharp-edged from too many years of surviving, this woman was light. She radiated warmth, a gentle, sunlit glow that softened the shadows of the shop. Her laughter seemed to lift the very air, like the sound of spring after a long, harsh winter. 

Her hair was a golden cascade, caught in soft waves that caught the light in a way that your darker, untamed strands never could. Her skin was smooth, untouched by the world’s grime, glowing with a purity that made you feel invisible in comparison. She was the kind of woman who walked into a room and made everything seem more beautiful, more alive. Her eyes were wide, sparkling, full of kindness, and when she smiled, it was as though she were opening a door to a better world, a world you would never be invited into.

And then there was the way Sylus looked at her.

You had always been aware of Sylus’s gaze — how it lingered with a quiet intensity, how it never seemed to reach you with the same depth as it did with the woman beside him. There was a tenderness in the way he looked at her as she excitedly picked out vinyl, a softness that you had once imagined might be meant for you, but now you saw it clearly for what it was. It was a love, a real one, blooming in front of your eyes, and you could do nothing but stand in its shadow and watch it grow.

And it hurt. Oh, how it hurt. 

They selected a couple of records and she greeted you with a genuine smile, placing her picks on the counter. You wordlessly made the bill, afraid that you’d break if you even uttered a word. You watched her admire the vintage instruments with awe when a nudge to your fingers brought your gaze back to the counter. He had secretly placed a vinyl on the counter with a smile, his eyes not on you but on the woman beside him. And then, as you turned to gather the rest of their purchases, you caught a glimpse of the cover of the vinyl he had chosen without the woman’s knowledge. 

Your heart plummeted.

It was “Bridal Chorus" by Wagner. A song used in proposals, weddings.

He was going to propose to her.

Your hands trembled as you rang up their purchase, your mind reeling with the gravity of the moment. You could hear their soft laughter as you handed them the bag, could see the way Sylus looked at you, but his eyes didn’t hold the same warmth they once had. They had shifted, replaced with something else. 

Hope died slowly in your chest, like the last note of a song fading into silence. You watched as Sylus and his soon-to-be fiancée walked out of the shop, their hands still intertwined, their smiles still bright.

And in the empty silence that followed, you put on “La Traviata” by Giuseppe Verdi on your record player, sinking in the music of a love unreturned.

Check out my other works if you liked this.

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Don’t know if you take writing prompts so if you don’t feel free to ignore this I have an idea for a dcxdp crossover ghost hunger au ( but only if you want otherwise it’s just Danny being able to eat anything and everything literally )ghost prince Danny au Redeemed Vlad au Vlad x Maddie x jack 

 Halfas were mistaken for a lot of things in mythology and being very rare they were often considered the “special ones” of whatever species they were mistaken for and the last halfa before Vlad was the one that inspired the novel of Dracula Yes there are vampires, but the one from the story of Dracula was not a vampire

Anyway, Danny trying to hide from the GIW decides to lean in on the mistaken identity, and what better city to do that in then Gotham, the one rumored to have monsters already patrolling its streets anyway Danny, gets mistaken for a vampire and Danny decides to roll with it setting up shop in an abandoned cathedral while trying to get the undead of Gotham back into the zone ( Grundy, the talons, Jason, and possibly a few others)

And Vlad occasionally has him going to galas for business (and practice for when Danny is the ghost king ) and of course, Danny continues the vampire act there too tone down, but still enough to give off an otherworldly vibe

I love this idea! I think I've only ever seen one other story about fake vampire Danny.

I'm not really able to write an actual story with world building or anything nice like that (trust me I've tried not pretty🫠😆), my stuff is usually just gibberish that I clean up a bit before posting, so I'm really sorry if you wanted an actual mini story.

~

But I'll try to do a little prompt!

~

Tell Me What I Am

There had been some odd rumors going around Gotham.

Those who were more sensitive said that the dead becoming aware, most didn't pay much truth to all that was being said.

Still everyone was more alert feeling like the entirety of Gotham was in the presence of something Other.

~

Jason didn't enjoy going to the galas when he was young and now as the recent 'No Longer Dead Wayne Child" he was forced to go once again.

He looked around trying to avoid all the rich snobs that were trying to push their daughters practically into his arms

He snorted at his thoughts, "Very much not my type."

Distracted he bumped into someone and oh-speaking of his type.

~

Danny didn't mean to bump into someone especially the guest of honor of the gala but it had been a while since he was able to properly eat something that actual filled him up and not just distracted his mind a bit before it came back,

So forgive him for being distracted and-

oh

oh?

Oh!

"You smell divine" he mumbled in between his suddenly overly sharp teeth

"..Wha-Thanks I guess?"

Danny's foggy mind suddenly snapped back into sharp focus once he felt Vlad call for him.

He quickly fled from the man

' Shit I almost bit him what the hell! '

~

Jason thought back to the night of the gala

"Hey B, do the Masters seem...odd to you?"

Bruce glance up from his work

"Did something happen?"

He thought about the sharp fangs suddenly in the young man's mouth alongside his comment feeling almost like prey under his intense gaze that pinned him in place with the sheer hunger and want in them.

How the older man pulled him away but not before Jason saw his eyes flash red for barely a second.

"....Maybe."

~

Just an Idea

Hope this was to your taste Anon!

[heyhihellosworld]

𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫

Charles Leclerc x reader

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: Your Charles supporter in every high and low, always there to celebrate and help him in every way possible

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (almost only smut), a little angst

Notes: First time I publish any work for Charleees and this became just smut basically. I didn't really have any plot, just started with the smut so it became a little weird but anyway. I still struggle writing smut so this is not great but I feel like it's getting better every time at least

"That was really... impressive" you smiled sarcastically, catching his annoyed face getting even more so as his eyes rolled. "Can you just not" he sighed, stopping in front of you and wiping his face off the sweat with the towel he'd received after quali.

"What, I'm just speaking facts"

Charles didn't answer that, he just narrowed his eyes before drinking big sips from his water bottle. "Seriously" you hummed, wanting to push his buttons even though you knew it wasn't the smartest seeing as he was already annoyed.

"It is impressive, crashing two days in a row. Wow, I'm just so excited to see what you will do tomorrow. Maybe crash?"

Charles let out a grunt, staring at you really unimpressed by your attitude as you gave him your famous smirk. That smirk that he hated and loved at the same time because even if it could get on his nerves in situations like these, that smirk was also the thing he loved about you.

"You know just what to say to cheer a man up huh" he spoke monotony, not even looking at you as he whipped up his phone "Oh I do" you tilled, looking at him with a teasing expression but he only shook his head.

"You know, Carlos' girlfriend hugs him or comforts him when he fails" He spoke lowly, almost accusingly as he gathered his stuff.

"Lucky Carlos" you hummed, smiling at your boyfriend who finally let out a chuckle. The frown on his beautiful face melting off and relaxing

You moved to him, erasing the meter of space between you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You know I support you and I will listen to your rant all evening so I gotta have some fun as well. You know I love you and think you are the best driver in the world" you tutted, pecking his lips as he smiled "That sounded so sincere darling" he hummed making you laugh, kissing him again "It was"

Race weekends were a thrill. You loved them and hated them at the same time. Being at the grid was a vibe in itself, something hard to describe but being so close to the action also meant close to the danger. You loved racing but you hated the risks and seeing your boyfriend in the action left you with a never-ending anxiety. But you knew it was his dream so you had no choice but to support him and swallow your worries.

Ferrari was his dream but also his curse. The never-ending struggles and the pressure he put on himself made him overworked and twitchy but you also knew he loved all aspects of racing and he truly believed he could achieve great things with the team. You didn't doubt it but the road there was long and it took effort, not only from Charles and the team but for you too.

The day in honor Charles started at pole but there wasn't much denying that he had had a tough weekend so far, pole in both qualifying but also in the wall two times which of course took a lot of confidence.

The race was boring to say the least, nothing happening and Red bull being far top left little to no excitement in the top two. The real fight was between Charles and Alonso, Charles managing all the way to the podium.

You bubbled with joy as you watched him celebrate on the podium, spraying Champagne and laughing before he came down again. A large smile and Champaign covering his already sweaty face.

"You did it" you grinned, hugging him tightly as he entered the garage again. "I did, not the wall today eh" he grinned smugly, kissing you passionately before you pushed him off not wanting to be too much in the public eye.

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You celebrated with the rest of the grid in a club that evening, not wanting to let Charles miss out on the fun just because you were there even if the Monegasque had been more tempted to stay in the hotel-room.

Charles was glued to your side the whole evening, kissing your shoulders, grabbing your ass whenever you were out of sight and always finding an excuse to touch you. Not that you were complaining but he was touchier than usual.

"What's with you today Char? Go out and party" Pierre joked, shoving his friend in the shoulder as he sat on a small couch-group with you and a couple of others. "No no, don't feel like it" Charles dismissed. "What's with him?" Pierre asked directed to you but Charles answered anyway, eyes rolling at his friend "It's nothing with me" he chuckled, shaking his head at the Frenchman who didn't let up

"He is just a bit needy" you smiled, grinning at Charles who glared at you whilst Pierre laughed out loud, raising his hands in surrender "Don't let me stand in your way mate" he chuckled, backing away winking at both of you.

"For real?" Charles sighed unimpressed, looking at you with tired eyes as you couldn't contain your laughter. "But it's true, isn't it Char?" you hummed, teasingly tracing your fingertips up over his thigh, smirking at the way his breath hitched when your fingers danced over his bulge.

"Maybe" he murmured, shoving your hand away with a warning glare.

"It's nothing wrong with it baby" you grinned, mocking him with your expression.

"Shush you" he muttered, shoving you away from him whilst you laughed.

It didn't take long for Charles to run out of patience, especially not since you seemed to find a way to tease him in every way possible so when you arrived at the hotel it didn't surprise you when he immediately attacked you with kisses, eyes asking you to help him out.

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"Aww" you mocked, a pout on your lips as you jerked him off faster "you're so needy baby" you hummed. Every time your hand went to his tip your thumb slid over his tip making him release the most amazing sounds.

He looked so beautiful when he was like this. All needy and vulnerable for you. His eyes were hooded, lips parted and his brow furrowed in concentration. A thin layer of sweat covered his body as he tried to let you do your thing despite his itching muscles and need to touch you.

He was close, you could clearly tell by the way his things tensed and bucked into your hand. "Y/n, baby, please" he gasped out, only making you speed up your movements. When your other hand made its way to gently touch his balls he was gone.

He threw his head back, eyes rolling as he stuttered out moans, quickly coming undone. The thought about stopping crossed your mind but the look on his face, begging you to not, made you finish him off.

Your lips hushed the sounds coming from his lips loud enough to be heard to the rooms around you and you knew he would be teased to death the next day if they heard him.

"Yes Charlie, that's it, come for me" you whispered, his eyes closing as he came over his stomach, body trembling as he breathed hard trying to catch his breath.

He stayed in the same position for a while, trying to stabilize his breath as you observed him. Sometimes you couldn't believe that out of all the people on this earth he chose you to be with, looking at him like this made you feel like he was something extreme. So beautiful you couldn't even describe it, lips parted, eyes hooded and skin shimmering in the late evening-light.

Soon enough he started to move, breaking you out of your little bubble. He got up on his knees, wraling the small way it was to where you were sitting crossed legged just right beside him before he gently pushed you down on the soft mattress. The playful grin he had on his face made you giggle as you fell on your back, inviting him to get on top of you.

"Stop laughing" he pouted, seemingly offended but the smile he couldn't hide betrayed him. "Sorry sorry" you smiled, patting his shoulder reassuringly as he hovered over you.

His smile mirrored yours, his dreamy eyes smiling too. "Wanna take care of you too" he murmured, his breath fanning your ear.'making you shiver. "Do whatever you want" you softly hummed back, gently running your fingers through his soft hair.

The way his eyes fell shut at the sensation and his neck craned into your touch made it clear that you were the one in charge tonight, he wanted you to take charge and he'd happily obey.

You let him be for a second, his lips kissing over your shoulder and neck as his fingers teasingly traced your panties. Fingers dipping into the waistband before disappearing to gently caress the soft skin on your tummy. When you let out a grunt of annoyance he immediately threw a glance at you, smirking as he got the memo.

You couldn't help but to let out a moan as his fingers finally dipped down into your panties. His slick fingers spread your wetness around before gently playing small precise circles on your clit. He loved watching your face whenever he was touching you, relishing in pride that he made you feel that way, that he could make you cum and become fuzzy for him.

His fingers found your entrance, slowly flicking into you making your mouth fall open. Your body wriggle around, trying to get away from his skillful fingers as it felt too good. His thumb connecting to your clit made the dam break as you pushed his hand away. Challenging him with your look as he whined, wanting to make you cum.

He immediately fell quiet when he saw your look, your hand wrapping delicately around his throat as you kissed over his jaw. "What was that huh?" you hummed, feeding on the sound he let past his lips. "Nothing" he hummed quickly, eyes fleeting over you as a wicked smirk crawled over your face. You loved this power-balance you had. Having Charles dominate you was always bound to be thrilling but you also loved being the one in charge. Having him following your demands was a rare type of power, of course built on complete trust. But you also loved how you sometimes didn't need to have any power, you could just be you, together.

Today was your chance to take the reins though, feeling like it had been a while since you did last since Charles had gone through a period of wanting control, which you didn't mind at all but it did feel great to take charge now.

Your fingers tightened slightly around his throat, not hard enough to choke him for real, just to mark your dominance.

"Thought so" you smirked, flipping him around so you were on top. You gave him a cheeky smile as your mouth trailed a path of kisses down his chest and over his navel, kissing over his abs and v-line as he breathed hard. Your mouth graced over his rock-hard dick but you ignored it for the time being, wanting to tease him slightly.

"Y/n please" he pleaded, hips rutting to get close to your mouth but you just chuckled, pressing his hips down on the sheet as you licked over his abs. "What is it baby?" you hummed in a mocking tone, innocent eyes blinking up at him as you licked up his chest before hanging your face close to his.

"What do you want, Charlie?" you hummed again, breathing over his face because you knew it drove him crazy, along with calling him Charlie that you knew turned him on when in this situation. "Want you to touch me, fuck me, please" he hurried out, his hands gripping onto your hips hard.

"Aww are you needy again" you teased, kissing over his cheek as he tried to calm down his shallow breathing. "Please y/n" he whined, trying to position you over his dick with his hands but you only tutted at him "No no" you chuckled, slapping his hands away.

He looked so fragile and vulnerable in the way he laid there, trying to obey your wishes whilst fighting to not break. His eyes were glossy, body twitchy and lips swollen from biting at them. You took pity on him as he wriggled, uncomfortably hard and face contorting.

"Aw baby, look at you" you mocked, wrapping your fingers around his dick softly which made him gasp out a moan, eyes squeezing together.

"Fuck, I hate when you are bratty like this" Charles moaned out, making you chuckle at him, smirking cheekily. "You do?" you teased, jerking him off slightly quicker, relishing in the sharp breath he breathed in before letting his head fall back into the pillows

"I really do, but I love it too" he murmured, biting his lip so hard it would draw blood "Oh I know you do Charlie, the submissive part of you love to be under my mercy. But the dominant part wants to punish me, doesn't it?"

"It really does" he gritted out as your thumb rubbed over his sensitive tip "Oh but I know you love this so much right now Char, just laying here and taking what I give you, letting me control you" your voice was thick, seductive and sweet as sugar as he nodded "I do love it"

You chuckled again, slowly stroking him before stopping completely not wanting him to cum like this.

You kissed his lips sweetly, his lips melting into yours as you lined him up with you, slowly rubbing his dick over your wetness. When you started to sink down on him he broke the kiss, gasping in symphony with you as you sank down all the way, taking him to the hilt.

"Fuck baby" he moaned, blinking quickly as you stroke his cheek, breathing heavily into his neck, your hips moving in circles, letting yourself get used to him.

After a few seconds of kissing and snogging you sat up so you straddled him for real, your hands planted firmly on his strong chest as you started to move more firmly on him.

His hands on your hips simply stayed still, you not letting him control your movements as you quickened your pace before slowing down, rolling your hips to create the best pattern for both of your pleasure.

Both of your moans bounced around in the hotel-room. No longer being able to think long enough to cover either of your mouths as the sounds got stronger and louder the longer you rode him.

"Fuck fuck y/n, I'm close, please" he blabbered, blinking up at you with the most pleasure struck look you'd ever seen on him. "It's okay baby" you hummed, going faster over him, slamming your hips down on his every time he bottomed out inside of you.

"A-are you close?" he asked softly. You nodded, stilling your hips for a moment as you took a grip on his hand, leading it to your pussy and firmly placing his fingers on your clit. Charles didn't need more instructions than that as you started moving again, rubbing firm precise circles over your clit in the way he knew drove you crazy, and tonight was no different.

It got harder to move smoothly as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly, your head dropping as your moans became louder. Your eyes found his, asking him to help you and he understood, meeting your thrusts with his own making him feel even bigger and reach even deeper inside of you. You angled your hip, trying to hit the perfect spot and when you did find it, it didn't take long for your eyes to roll as your orgasm flooded over you, taking Charles with you as he moaned out loud, not caring anymore.

It took a few minutes for you both to calm down and regain your normal breath. You lead him to the shower, taking turns in gently washing each-other to get rid of the sticky feeling of sex.

You wrapped yourself in his arms, peppering his face with kisses as he chuckled, wrapping you tightly to his chest. "Love you amor" he whispered, his characteristic smile playing on his lips. "Love you to Char" you hummed, stroking beads of hair out of his tired face "Love you even if you drive in to the wall" you smiled, catching his eyes roll before chuckling in defeat "as long as you don't hurt yourself of course" you added, kissing his nose sweetly.

[nymphea0]

Until Death My Love

Special Chapter.

Arceint Family.

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might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

- Until Death My Love Pt.1

- Until Death My Love Pt.2

- Until Death My Love Pt.3

- Until Death My Love Pt.4

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A family with a symbol of a hungry lion. A famous family that is very honorable among the mafia association families from the underworld.

Not many people know about the Arceint family, but whoever it is, whether it is an ordinary person or a kind of Arceint family, marrying or joining the Arceint family alliance, is the same as swimming in endless gold piles.

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You, you are an ordinary woman, from an ordinary family too, met Alex in high school, thinking that Alex is an ordinary man like you.

Oh dear, if only you knew that Alex was only on a mission from his family to blend in with ordinary people, before he returned and took his share of the Arceint association.

Alex thought that while he was in school and studying among ordinary people, his life would be like a blank sheet of paper. Until he met you, everything that came from within you, triggered something that Alex never thought he would ever feel.

From there Alex fell in love, and fell even more when he found out that you were beyond what he thought. Oh my dear, he is so in love with you. You wouldn't dare think about what he would do just to make you pay attention to him.

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Now you are back at your house and Alex, it has been 8 months since the incident you experienced before. Everything goes as before, you decide to play it safe, rather than die, why not pamper yourself with everything Alex gives you?, you can't lie to yourself, you love Alex as Alex loves you.

Oh my dear if only you knew what bad things Alex did to the servants in this residence when you left this house.

Right now, Alex is leading you to his study room. You don't know what Alex wants to show you, you just surrender to where he takes you.

By opening the door Alex guides you to enter his room. Taking your hand and sitting you in his office chair.

"Wait here a moment my dear, I'll be right back."

After saying that, Alex walked to the bookshelves in his room, then he took a book with a black cover and a gold lion symbol.

While walking back towards you, Alex lifted you and sat down, while placing you comfortably on his lap.

"You know my dear, we've been married for 2 years, we've been through a lot lately, I want to have children with you and create a harmonious family"

"All of that will not come true, if there are still secrets between us".

Then Alex opened the book, the first page was greeted with a golden lion symbol with bold writing.

'ARCEINT FAMILY'

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Alex, tells you, the Arceint family tree to you, because you are now also part of Arceint.

Your husband just said that Arceint is the same as the mafia, the difference here is, the Arceint Family has been working with the government since ancient times historically until now.

The power of the Arceint family covers the entire world, because they are part of the world mafia association. They also have many enemies, but playing with fire with lions is an endless nightmare.

The Arceint family is divided into 3 groups, the Core Family, the Main Family, and the branch family.

The Core Family are those who built Arceint, they can be said to be the leader family of Arceint.

The Main Family is the second part of the core family, their power is broad, but not as absolute as the Core Family.

And the branch family is a family from the main family's division, they have no position and can only wait for orders from the core family and the main family.

The 2 families under the leadership of the Core Family can only follow absolute orders that have indeed become history and existing traditions.

The core family is symbolized by a different symbol, namely a lion standing sideways with both legs and hands forming the letter V. Their name is 'Non Ducor Duco'.

The arceint family is involved in a lot of black trade, such as smuggling weapons and other illegal goods, but of course with permission from the government.

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You who are currently sitting on Alex's lap can only be silent listening to the explanation about his family.

Then Alex, his hands are busy opening the next page.

"You ..... which part of the family are you from?"

Asking in a low tone, you look at Alex who is currently also looking at you.

Your husband then smiles playfully.

"Why doesn't my love guess which part of the family I am from, hmm?"

"Is Alex from the main family??".

Because you have no clue, you just guess that he is from the main family. Which was answered with a shake of the head.

Then Alex's hand stopped on the page that was printed in bold with the sentence.

"Non Ducor Duco"

Then you looked at Alex which was only answered with a smirk by him.

"My love, try to say my name?"

"Alexandrovice Reigent Arceint?"

"That's right, my name is Alexandrovice Raigent Arceint".

Then Alex continued by saying that all of his family bear the name Arceint, but not all of them bear the name Reigent, because Reigent is the name of the core family that cannot be passed down by other families even though they are still blood relatives.

Only the core family and their partners are allowed to bear the name.

Then while stroking your head slowly, Alex said that not all couples from the core family can use the name Reigent because there is a tradition that must be followed.

Then Alex's hand stopped on a page where there was a photo of several women kneeling on each side of the chairs occupied by men.

Alex said that for couples in the core family or other family members, if they wanted to bear the name Arceint or Reigent they had to follow the tradition.

A tradition called "My life is yours".

This tradition requires women to have a status that is not equal to men. These women must pass tests and several other traditions that violate gender equality norms.

Then you asked Alex.

"Are .... the 2 women in the photo frame in the room doing that tradition?" .

Alex just nodded and stroked your head gently while leaning his body against the chair.

"Does ..... Alex want me to do that tradition too?"

You asked worriedly, Alex did not specify what the tradition was like. But you were afraid to do the tradition which could make you uncomfortable.

Alex just laughed softly and whispered softly in your ear.

"My love, you don't need to do that stupid tradition, you already bear my name, as Mrs. Reigent Arceint.".

You just stared at Alex confused, which Alex replied by kissing your cheek affectionately

"Like my father, I break my family's tradition dear, only for you my love".

Alex said that his father Rovalnov Reigent Arceint also broke the tradition in the Arceint family, only for his mother. By giving a name without following tradition.

The reason why when Alex and you got married and only his mother and father came from his family was because the nuclear family did not need to be accompanied by other families.

His father officially named you as part of the Arceint Reigent family, the partner of Alexandrovice Reigent Arceint.

Although Alex is the last child, Alex is known as a more competent and heartless successor than his two older brothers.

The love story of Alex's father and mother is very dark, because his mother did not love his father, therefore Alex's father forcibly kidnapped his mother, and was willing to break the existing rules for the first time in the history of the Arceint family.

And the story repeats itself between you and Alex.

You can only be silent, while Alex is only busy kissing your neck and cheeks with affection because of your confused expression.

"My love, don't worry, no one can hurt you .... not when I'm still alive my dear".

You finally know now, you finally realize what the meaning of Alex's mother's gentle sympathetic smile to you on your and Alex's wedding day.

Like a father, like a son.

Alex's mother seemed to want to convey a message to you. The smile implied something like a greeting, a sympathetic greeting because you would experience the same thing as her.

"Welcome dear, In this crazy family, I'm sure you'll get used to it soon"

You can only mourn your fate once again.. mourn your fate as the wife of Alexandrovice Reigent Arceint, your husband with 10001 secrets in his life.

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*Source Images : Pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story . Project Dark Romance Story 1.

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

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