#but this has been bouncing around my brain for the last ten minutes while cleaning

[velvetboyys]

I must not lay in bed. Laying in bed is the chore killer. Laying in bed is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my chores. I will permit them to pass over me and through me. And when chores have gone past I will turn the inner eye to see their path. Where chores have gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft p.4

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though), alcoholism/ drunkenness, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of infidelity, murder

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Pretty lightly edited, just a warning

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3

“Hey, hun, what can I getcha?” You leaned into your popped hip, pen and notepad in hand.

A man you hadn’t met before, clearly someone just passing through town, was sitting across the diner bar in a light blue button-up and suspenders. He was fairly clean cut save for the day-old scruff across his face. He studied the menu intensely before setting it down and looking up at you with a sweet-as-pie smile. “Can I please have coffee with some cream and the grits?” He asked with a southern drawl.

You scribbled down his order on the notepad, “That all?”

“Mhm, I think so. Thanks doll.” He slid the menu towards you before reaching for a newspaper that had been left on the counter beside him by the last patron. You turned around to pin the man’s order on the little turnstile for the chef when the little bell on the door rang.

Tucking your notepad back into the apron tied around your waist, you grabbed the pot of coffee from the counter and poured the man a cup of the rich black liquid. Next, you prepared a little ceramic cup of cream and walked back to set them on the counter in front of him. His polite thanks were only the background when you saw Arvin walk behind the man and shoot you a smile before settling down in a seat at the bar only a few seats away.

You walked over to him and leaned on the counter with a smile, “Well, hey there stranger. You on lunch already?”

Arvin nodded, looking to you hopefully, “Yeah ‘n I was hopin’ you might be too so I could grab a bite to eat with my favorite girl.”

“Shh!” You hushed him with exasperated wide eyes, like it should have been obvious that he needed to keep his voice down, because in your mind it was. You nodded your head to the other patrons in the diner. “Y’know word travels fast in little towns like this ‘n I don’t need my daddy findin’ out ‘bout us,” you whispered to Arvin who sighed in annoyed understanding. You knew he wasn’t annoyed at you but the situation was less than ideal.

He tapped his fingers on the counter and his knees bounced under the bar, “So is that a no for lunch?”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at the clock that hung on the wall. It was only eleven in the morning but maybe you could ask Charlene if she could cover so you could take an early lunch. “Let me double check real quick.” You held up a finger to excuse yourself into the back to find your coworker.

No more than ten minutes later, you and Arvin walked out to his car with two take-out boxes of burgers you had managed to swipe from the kitchen in hand. He slid into the driver’s seat while you planted yourself beside him in the passenger’s. You handed him one of the boxes of food before opening your own and

digging into the small handful of fries. “So how is your day going so far?”

Arvin took a large bite of his burger, covering his mouth with his hand has he tried to speak and chew at the same time, “Ain’t too bad. I got an engine to rebuild for an old Ford when I get back but nothin’ too terrible. How ‘bout you?”

“Ready to go home already,” you chuckled, popping a fry in your mouth, “But it ain’t too bad here either. Just would like to not be here.”

Arvin laughed a little beside you, “I know how that feels. Thanks for the burgers by the way. I appreciate it. I don’t want you gettin’ in no trouble for stealin’ food.”

You shrugged off his concern, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. If people don’t eat it, it just goes in the trash anyways. I ain’t gonna get in any trouble.”

He let out a heavy breath, resigning to your insistence, which he really just found an adorable confident stubbornness. A comfortable silence fell over the unmoving car as the two of you ate your lunches in the parking lot. When you finished chewing your bite, you looked over at Arvin, “How long you been livin’ with us?”

Arvin looked up at the brick wall straight ahead in thought, “Maybe five months now. Longer than I meant to-"

"I didn't mean it like that! I was just wonderin'...." you got awkwardly quiet for a moment, "Havin' you 'round has been the best five months in a really really long time."

"For me too. When I came into town, I thought I'd be livin' in my car. Didn't know how lucky I'd be gettin' to live with the most beautiful girl in the world." His hand reached over to your thigh, squeezing lightly.

Even after all of his sweet affections and compliments, they never failed to make your cheeks ache from trying not to blush and smile like a schoolgirl. “You really think flattery will get you somewhere?” you giggled teasingly, turning towards him and nudging his leg with your hand.

“Well it got me in your house so…” He teased back, something that he had been doing more often in the last few weeks. Arvin had never been the most humorous of people, aside from the occasional chuckle or hidden smile. That had been changing since the two of you had gotten closer though.

“Uh, no! It might get you kicked outta my house though if my daddy ever finds out.” It started as chuckle but the words faded into concerned worry as you realized how true they could really be.

Arvin sensed the shift, “You really think your daddy would kick me out if he found out ‘bout us?”

You nodded, “Without a doubt. Would probably throw me out too.” You shifted so you were sitting on your bent leg, suddenly uncomfortable.

He began cautiously, “I mean… would that really be such a bad thing?”

You whipped your head to look at him, “I ain’t got nowhere else to live right now. I been savin’ up for a year to move out but it ain’t enough to buy a place of my own yet.”

“How much you got?”

That number was in your head immediately, one that you kept a running total of with every paycheck. “$4,317.” It wasn’t enough, though, and you knew it. Even the old run down houses around town cost $12,000, which meant you weren’t even halfway to the fixer-uppers, not that you minded buying a fixer upper. “I don’t need a mansion or nothin’ but it ain’t nearly enough for even something small.”

Arvin chewed his lip, thinking about the box of cash he’d been stashing away with each of his paychecks as well. He knew exactly what it was like in your position, struggling to save up the money to get on your own feet. He hated relying on others and, even though he really liked you, he hated depending on your and your father for shelter. “You ain’t gonna be stuck in this ol’ town forever,” he promised you and it came out just like that. A promise. “You’re too good for this place.”

Another smile forced its way onto your face at his words of hope, “I’ll get outta here eventually…”

Suddenly, a familiar male voice yelled your name and you flinched. You turned towards the voice to see your boss, Harold, standing at the backdoor of the diner with his hands on his hips. He gave you a stern look and tapped the watch on his wrist before pointing at you then jabbing his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

“Shit! I totally lost track of time!” You scrambled to gather up the trash from lunch and stuffed it into the paper bag you’d brought it out in. “I’m sorry, I have to run!”

Arvin had nearly jumped out of his skin when your name had been yelled, the only person he’d ever heard calling you that way being your father. He crumbled up the paper wrapper for his burger and stuffed it in the paper bag for you. “‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your boss.”

“Nah, he’s fine,” you waved off the worry dismissively, “He acts all tough but he ain’t nothin’ but a softy.” You opened up the door and began to slide out when you stopped and took a quick glance around. Nobody was in the parking lot, or really anywhere in sight for that matter. In an impulsive swift action, you grabbed Arvin by the collar of his greasy shirt and pulled his lips to yours quickly before pushing him before anyone could see.

He looked stunned, big brown eyes wide and shocked by your courageous kiss. Your heart raced and your cheeks flushed with the exhilaration of actually sneaking a kiss to Arvin in public. It was a dangerous move but your dad was at work and there was nobody else around to see. You tried to hide your excited smile by chewing your bottom lip but it didn’t work. “Thanks for lunch, Arv.”

“Uh - y-yeah. Thank you for the burger.” Arvin stumbled over his words while you slid out of the car and closed the door behind you, leaving the poor boy struggling to make his brain catch up to reality.

“See you at home!” You waved one last time before turning. Arvin watched as you jogged back to the entrance of the diner, your little dress bouncing with every movement. You turned to give him one last glance before you disappeared behind the door.

Work had passed rather uneventfully for you. You put in the last few hours of your shift, went to the grocery store, and then headed home to start on dinner.

Arvin, on the other hand, the rest of his day at work had shaken the good feeling he’d had since his lunch break with you. He had found himself with a wrench in hand, trying to bolt back in the engine he’d been rebuilding for the last few hours. Grease smeared across his shirt, pants, and face despite how hard he tried to keep his dirty hands from ruining his clothes. Even if they were work clothes, he didn’t have that many sets of outfits nor the money to go out and buy more.

“My cousin lives o’er there with his wife. Said the sheriff up and disappeared for a while but they found him dead in the woods.”

Arvin’s head nearly hit the hood of the car that was propped up when he heard those words. He looked over his shoulder to see Davis and Fred, two of the other guys that worked at the mechanics shop, talking over two cans of beer.

“You hear anythin’ ‘bout that, Arvin?” Davis asked, sipping his can.

Arvin’s heart twisted in panic but he shook his head like hadn’t heard what they were talking about, “Hear ‘bout what?”

“Few months back, the sheriff in my cousin’s hometown turned up dead. Someone shot ‘im in the woods outside o’ some small town nearby. His name was like Lodeck or Bodecker or somethin’ like that.” Davis explained the story to both of the guys.

“Eh, pro’lly had it comin’,” Your dad came entered from the storage room with a handful of bolts, “I know I’ve met some sheriffs that deserved a bullet between the eyes.”

Fred rolled his eyes, “Yeah well you’re an angry drunk so I’m sure you’d say that ‘bout anyone who took a drink from you. I’m sure this guy wasn’t that bad. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? This ain’t no wild west movie where you go gunnin’ down the law.”

“Nah, I heard he was a no good son o’ a bitch. Guess his sister and her husband got murdered the day before. Found tons of pictures o’ them kissin’ on some dead guys. Some real sick shit, Fred. Sheriff might have been in on it too. Regardless, my cousin said he ran into ‘im one time with his wife and the sheriff really was a bastard,'' Davis shrugged off Fred’s comment, refuting the tragedy Fred was trying to make Bodecker’s death by tarnishing his name.

Arvin’s heart was racing and he began to feel dizzy. The images of those few days had haunted him since they had happened but he had found himself thinking about it less and less as the days passed.

“Arvin?”

Arvin shook his head out of the clouds and snapped back into reality, “What?”

“You came into town ‘round the same time all this happened. Did you hear anythin’ about it?” Fred questioned, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans.

The young man just shook his head, “Nah, I ain’t heard nothin’ ‘bout it till now. I heard ‘bout the sister though. Sounds like she and her boyfriend were no good.”

“You know what I think?” Your dad began, picking up a wrench and pointing it in Arvin’s direction, “I think our man Arvin here did the sheriff in!”

Arvin stiffened up, “What? Why would you think that?”

“You come strollin’ along through town with nothin’ but a backpack and no backstory ‘bout the same time four people turn up murdered. Mighty suspicious.” Arvin tried his hardest to stand tall and not allow his fear to show but the tension in his jaw was bordering of painful now.

Davis swatted at your dad, “C’mon, leave the boy alone. There’s gotta be thousands of people in that area that coulda murdered them. Can’t imagine Arvin doin’ such a thing.”

Arvin was grateful for Davis’s trust. If only he deserved it.

“I’m only jokin’! Y’all a bunch of whiny little girls, can’t take a fuckin’ joke.” Your dad grumbled to himself, swatting his hand towards his coworkers.

“Ah, shut up.” Fred stood up from the table he’d been sitting at and laid back down on the dolley before sliding under the jacked up Chevy he had been tasked with. “Ain’t nobody ‘round here takes you seriously.”

Arvin watched as your dad walked past Fred, kicking him in the leg and earning a loud exclamation of annoyance, but it was as if he were disconnected from the whole scene. He had tried so hard to forget what had happened back in Knockemstiff and Coal Creek, though it seemed damn near impossible considering it had uprooted his entire life. This tiny town a few hours away was his safe haven, his new beginning. He never would have imagined that anyone this far away would have heard about the murders.

Hearing Davis and Fred bring up Bodecker’s name made Arvin’s blood turn to ice in his veins. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? Fred’s words played over and over in Arvin’s head. This was just what he was worried about. This was why he ran. Nobody would believe Bodecker was trying to kill him first. Self defense didn’t mean shit when it was against the law. The same with Reverend Teagarden. A man of the word? Arvin didn’t stand a chance if anyone found out what he’d done.

“Hey son,” Davis’s soft voice made Arvin nearly jump out of his skin, “Don’t take nothin’ that ol’ man says to heart. I’m sure you know since you been livin’ with him that he’s just a cranky ol’ drunk who don’t know when to shut up. You’re a good kid, Arvin. Ain’t none of us actually think you did it.”

Arvin looked down at where Davis’s hand rested on his shoulder, the same way his dad used to touch his shoulder when he was reassuring him. He forced a small appreciative nod and a strained appearance of being unbothered, “It’s alright, Davis. I know he’s just kiddin’ ‘round. I ‘ppreciate it though.”

_

Your father arrived at home before Arvin, much to your dismay. Elvis Presley’s Blue Hawaii album was spinning on the record player when he came into the kitchen, kicking his boots off by the door.

“Hey, daddy! How was work?” You asked, mashing a bowl of potatoes for dinner.

He made a line directly to the fridge, grabbing a beer and popping the tab off with no effort, “It was alright. Damn Gilligan blew out the transmission on his truck so I been stuck fixin’ that up all day. Lookin’ forward to this right here.” Your father lifted up the beer bottle and sipped it with satisfaction. Yeah, I’m sure you were, you thought, rolling your eyes with your back turned to your dad.

“Well, if you wanna get cleaned up, dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes. More than enough time for a shower,” you offered with a cheerful voice. Lunch with Arvin today had made your day good in a way that was hard to ruin.

“Yeah, I might go do that. What’s for dinner?” Your father walked over and peeked over your shoulder to see what you had cooking on the stove.

“Mashed potatoes, green beans, and chicken.” You cut in a few slices of butter and added them to the bowl of mashed potatoes, sprinkling some salt, pepper, and garlic powder to taste.

Expecting some words of discouragement like you usually earned from your father, he just nodded contently and disappeared out of the kitchen towards the bathroom. You turned to watch him walk away, your mouth fallen open in pleased surprise at the fact that you just had a semi-pleasant interaction with your father for the first time in several weeks. You turned back to mixing in the now melted butter into the mashed potatoes when the front door opened yet again.

You looked back to see Arvin walking in through the living room, “Hey, Arv!”

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and judging by the way his eyes shot up to you, as if he hadn’t expected your greeting, he had been staring at the ground when he walked in. “Hi,” he answered low and short with no emotion one way or the other.

Your brows furrowed, “Everythin’ alright?” Leaving the food on the counter and wiping your hands on your apron, you walked out into the living room towards him.

Arvin visibly took a step back and his eyes widened a little, his shoulders squaring up, “Yeah, ‘m good. Just wanna take a shower.”

Before you could get the words out, he had already begun walking away. “My dad’s already in the bathroom,” you called out after him, finally getting him to stop.

Arvin didn’t turn back to you though, only half glanced over his shoulder, “Oh, alright.” He turned back to continue his walk back to his room.

“Dinner will be ready soon!” You attempted to add, only earning a small thanks in response and the sound of Arvin’s door closing. “O-oh… okay.” You stood alone in the living room, the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and Elvis Presley’s voice filling the room but not loud enough to drown out your concern.

Dinner went by just as uncomfortably. You poked at your mashed potatoes, keeping your gaze stuck down at the food on your plate except for when you glanced over at Arvin who seemed to be actively looking anywhere except for you. This only made you roll your eyes out of frustration and stare back down at your food.

Your dad talked about his day, mostly grumbled complaints, “I don’t get nearly ‘nough respect ‘round here. Damn Fred and Davis callin’ me a drunk. What? A man can’t enjoy a damn beer without being called a drunk! Damn prudes.” When you didn’t respond, he reached over and tapped your arm, “Hey? You even listenin’?”

“Hm?” You tried to make yourself focus on what he was saying this time, “Sorry, long day. What happened?”

“See? I ain’t get no respect at work and I can’t even get no respect at my own damn house from my own damn daughter!” He grumbled, the feet of the wooden chair scraping against the ground as he stood up forcefully, swaying a little side to side but bracing himself on the wall to walk out of the room.

You didn’t even possess the mental capacity to care about his little tantrum. Your mind was swimming with confusion and, honestly, anger, at Arvin’s little unexplained silent treatment. “Okay, what’s wrong?” You asked, leaning towards Arvin.

“Nothin’.” He answered simply, taking a sip of his water. His voice was low and he still refused to make eye contact, despite nothin’ being wrong.

“That’s a lie. Everythin’ was fine this mornin’ and now you’re suddenly not talkin’ to me. Won’t even look at me! What the hell, Arvin? Did I say somethin’ wrong?” Thinking back, there wasn’t anything you had said earlier that you could imagine warranting such a negative response from Arvin so your confusion and concern had quickly turned to frustration.

Arvin shook his head, “No, no, you ain’t did nothin’ wrong.”

“Then what is it?” You practically begged him to tell you. You hated being upset at him when clearly something was bothering him but this felt like he was just playing some broody guessing game with you, something you got enough of from your dad.

Stress shone through Arvin’s eyes and he met your gaze finally, if only for a second, before looking away again. You could see there was a flicker of something you hadn’t seen in him before but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Whatever it was, it was really bothering him and you felt guilty for being upset. You just couldn’t understand why you suddenly were being ignored for something that apparently had nothing to do with you.

“I can’t tell you.”

Arvin’s admittal just made you more upset. “So you’re not mad at me but you’re ignoring me and can’t tell me why?”

Arvin hadn’t seen you look at him this way. At your father, yes, but he was unaccustomed to that raised eyebrow and frustratedly desperate crack in your voice being directed towards him. He hated it. He hated knowing that he was causing you to feel upset and helpless when he was supposed to be your escape from those exact feelings.

But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth. You’d think he was a monster. You’d hate him. He’d lose the one good thing he had in his life because-

Arvin shook his head, “‘M sorry.” He looked anywhere but at you because he couldn’t stand to see the way your face fell, though he could practically feel your heart fall from across the table. He didn’t need to see it. He knew.

“Fine.” You stood up and grabbed your plate, scraping the rest in the garbage and setting the plate in the sink. Your appetite was gone and your patience had snapped, not that you had been the most patient thus far anyways.

Arvin watched as you stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed your coat off the coat rack by the front door, and walked out of the house. His head hit his hands. No matter how hard he tried to protect those he cared about, he only seemed to hurt them more.

-

You hadn’t expected Arvin to find you here so when the door opened to the old barn, you turned around in surprise. You were curled up in your coat, sitting on an old wooden crate that had been untouched in this unused barn for God knows how long. A large window looked out over the large field that had once been the family farm but was now practically a glorified dirt lot. Your coat was wrapped tightly around your body, held in place with one hand while you held a lit cigarette with the other.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Arvin took a few steps in, his hands shoved guiltily in the pocket of his denim jacket.

You blew out a large plume of smoke that you had been holding in and looked away, “I don’t too often.”

Arvin closed the barn door behind him as he approached you and you had to fight the urge to get up and leave but you knew that made you no less immature than the way you felt he was acting.

“‘M sorry. I really am.”

You took another drag and turned to him, the moonlight illuminating his features - somehow so boy-like but so rugged - and it was hard to stay mad at him. “I am too. I don’t mean to be dramatic but I just… I don’t understand, Arv. If somethin’s wrong, you can tell me. This whole silent treatment BS with zero explanation doesn’t cut it.”

Arvin let out a heavy breath. While doing the dishes from dinner for you after you stormed off, he had had time to contemplate what to do. And he had decided. “If I tell you, it’s gonna change how you look at me.”

Your head tilted up at his cryptic opener but you said nothing, only urged him to continue with your eyes.

With a deep shaky inhale, he started his story, “I ain’t a bad man but I’ve done some bad things. Things that I thought I could run away from. I been livin’ a lie for a long time, actin’ like I ain’t hurt nobody, but it ain’t true.” Arvin paused for a moment to gauge your reaction and all he saw was fear in your eyes, just as he had feared.

A million thoughts of terrible things people were capable of ran through your head as you tried to figure out which one Arvin could possibly be guilty of, though they all felt so out of character for him. Was it murder? Assault? Rape? Thievery? The man you had come to care for so deeply now swam in a murky pool of doubt and distrust. Arvin saw all this and more in your deep, worried eyes.

“What did you do?” Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be, cracking with fear. Until today, you hadn’t imagined Arvin capable of doing anything that could real harm to anyone, maybe aside from a stupid fight in high school or something along those lines, but you could see it in his eyes that whatever it was he was trying to confess to really was that bad.

Arvin lost his ability to speak for a moment. He had resolved to tell you everything before even coming out here to talk to you but the fear shining in your eyes already had his heart breaking. It was as if every new line of moonlight reflecting off the growing whites of your eyes was a new stain that he managed to tarnish your view of him with. Arvin had to look away because he couldn’t bear to look at you when he finally admitted his crimes, couldn’t stand to watch your face contort in fear when you realized what a monster he was.

“Y-you remember that preacher I told you ‘bout? The one that hurt my sister?”

You nodded, “Y-yeah…”

Arvin swallowed hard and he gripped his thigh tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “Well few weeks after we buried Lenora, a police officer came up ‘n told me the coroner had found out she was havin’ a baby. None of us knew before. I don’t know how but I just knew it was that no good preacher. I didn’t have any proof though so I started followin’ ‘im ‘n found out he was worse than I thought. He was no good to his wife ‘n I saw him out takin' advantage of another girl in town who was even younger than my Lenora was. He was doin’ nothin’ but hurtin’ people ‘n I… I killed im.”

Your mouth fell open, “You- You killed him?”

Arvin looked down at his feet, “I shot him.”

It was silent as you processed the information. This preacher sounded like a terrible man, abusing young girls and leading one to commit suicide. The infidelity to his wife was a moot point against his other indiscretions and even that was unacceptable. It honestly sounded like Arvin had done a service to the world, taking this monster out of it, but it was still difficult to look at him the same after knowing that he had actually shot someone.

When you didn’t respond, Arvin had decided to continue, not thinking he could cause much more damage, “I ran. Left a note for my grandma and uncle and disappeared. I tried hitchhiking my way out of town when I got picked by this couple. They seemed nice ‘nough at first but the husband, he started actin’ real weird. They pulled us way off the road. Said he wanted to take some pictures but then I saw him pull out a gun and then he tried pullin’ me outta the car. I-I panicked and I kicked the door into him ‘n I shot ‘im before he could get me.”

Arvin’s voice was cracking as tears began to fall down his face. It was one thing to replay the memories in his own head but it was another thing entirely to actually confess his sins to someone he cared so deeply about, knowing the truth would most likely hurt you. “The wife, she pulled out a gun and pointed it at me ‘n I pointed mine at her. I begged her to put the gun down. I-I didn’t wanna shoot her. I really didn’t. I was so tired of killin’ but then she apologized ‘n I knew she was gonna pull the trigger. We both shot at the same time. I got no clue how she didn’t shoot me. I fell out the car without a scratch but I when I got up, I realized I got her through the neck 'n she was gone. I panicked ‘n searched the car. Found all these pictures of her all naked and huggin’ up on some naked dead guy ‘n I knew… I knew I was gonna be next.”

Your brain sprinted a mile a minute to try and keep up with the trauma Arvin was confessing and you didn’t know whether to hug him and let him cry on you or run as far away as possible.

“Then-”

“There’s more?” You wanted to beg him to stop talking, to stop telling you about the blood on his hands, to stop telling you about all the suffering he had been through. You sounded shocked and heartbroken and yet none of these tragedies were yours.

Arvin hiccuped and sniffled in a failed attempt to hide a sob. Red had taken over his features, both physically and metaphorically. Obviously distraught by his past and now your reaction, he felt like he was beginning to spiral down that hole of darkness that he had tried so hard to claw his way out of. There were nothing but snakes down there, ready to bite him and poison his mind with the words he had fought so desperately to keep out. Murderer. Stalker. Liar. Sinner. All of these and so many more.

Yet, he nodded, feeling as if he’d still be lying if he didn’t finish telling you everything. When he nodded, you made a small squeak of disbelief.

“I-I ran,” He sniffled out, “I hitchhiked my way back to my old hometown. I didn’t know why at first but I just needed to go home. Felt like maybe I could fix what had been broken there. Went there to find it all burnt down but then this sheriff came lookin’ after me. Turns out he was that lady’s brother - the one who shot at me and had the pictures of the cut up dead guys. He was all angry and wanted to kill me for shootin’ his sister. I tried… I tried to tell ‘im that she was no good and that she was gonna kill me but he didn’t wanna listen. He was shootin’ at me and… and… I ain’t had no choice.”

It was silent, aside from the ambient bugs chirping outside. You had tried so hard to focus on Arvin’s face but you had long since zoned out visually, only able to focus on the words he was saying. How could he have gone through all of this? How could your wonderful, amazing, beautiful Arvin Russell have survived so much suffering and been forced to murder people? Murder.

“Please say somethin’.”

Your lips quivered as your vision came back into view and all you saw was a tearful, fearful, remorseful boy before you on the brink of falling apart. Arvin’s hair was messy from having run his hands through it, his eyes were red and puffy from the tears, his breathing was shaky from remembering. There were no words.

You threw your arms around his neck and held him tightly to you. You didn’t know what else to do. How does someone respond to information like this? There was so much trust that Arvin needed to put in you to tell you - you couldn’t freak out.

“You don’t hate me?” His hands flew to your arms, prying them off his neck so he could see your face.

Your head shook, “How could I hate you for what you did?”

“I murdered four people.”

“You took out a disgusting predator who practically killed your sister and was harming who knows how many other girls. Then you killed a couple of murderers who pulled guns on you first in self defense. And then, yet again, you were put in a life or death situation with a sheriff who was shootin’ at you for killin’ his murderin’ sister. Three of those were self defense and I’d dare say that first one was a public service. You have nothin’ to be sorry for. You have nothin’ to regret. You did what you had to do to survive.” You squeezed Arvin’s hands tightly, running your soft thumbs over the lightly calloused skin of his knuckles.

Arvin looked down at your hands on his, hands that were so much smaller than his own but right now felt so encompassing and comforting, as if they wrapped his own in a blanket of protection. He couldn’t believe you were okay with this. He was barely okay with it. “I don’t regret it but I didn’t wanna have to do it. If I coulda let that lady go, if she only woulda listened to me ‘n put the gun down I wouldn’t o’ had to pull the trigger. I coulda let the cops deal with it. Same with the sheriff. If only he woulda listened… I only wanted to shoot the preacher. I was okay with havin’ that on my conscience. But I had no idea how outta control that day was gonna get. All those cold dead eyes starin’ up at you, watchin’ the life drain from someone’s face ‘n knowin’ you’re the one who caused that... Even if they were real fucked up people, it ain’t a sight that’s easy to see.”

“I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like, Arvin.” Your hand slid up his arm to rest on his bicep and you leaned your forehead onto his shoulder. His arm snaked around your body and held you close but cautious, like he was scared if he held you too tightly that you’d be scared he’d hurt you too. Of course, you weren’t. The thought did cross your mind that perhaps it was unwise to trust a man who just admitted to killing four people but that wasn’t Arvin and you knew it. “You may have killed people but that does not make you a killer. You’re just someone who was put in some really hard situations and had to make some tough choices.”

You pulled back and put your hand on his cheek, slightly scratchy from not shaving that day, and you spoke gently, “You are wonderful, Arvin. You are caring and hard working and loyal and willing to stand up for what is right. You are everything good in this world-”

“I hurt people-”

“You protect people,” you corrected, “‘N if some bad people had to get hurt to keep the good ones safe, well maybe they shouldn’t have been such bad people.”

Arvin could have melted into a puddle at your feet, and likely would have if you hadn’t been holding him. Never had he expected to tell anyone his terrible deeds and in every imagined scenario in which he did, it had never ended well. He had imagined you running for the hills, screaming at him to get out, maybe even threatening him physically out of fear that he’d hurt you now (which he’d never dream of doing).

But you didn’t do any of that. Gentleness and understanding were far from the reaction he’d expected or even felt like he deserved but nevertheless here you were holding him and reassuring him that he wasn’t the monster he’d called himself for so many months.

“I love you.”

His admission surprised you but Arvin felt fully confident in his words. He had never known what love felt like - romantic love at least - but this was damn near the closest thing he could imagine to it. You occupied his thoughts every waking moment, your face and your voice swimming around his imagination in a beautiful ocean of warmth and kindness and goodness that he would gladly drown in. You were strong and responsible and understanding and oh so beautiful. Much like him, you’d been handed a shit hand by life and struggled each day to make the best of it. Arvin cared about you so much it scared him because he had not felt this compulsion towards anyone since Lenora had passed. After losing everything he’d ever loved, he was scared that if he admitted that he loved you, life would take you away from him as well. If there was one thing that you did, though, it was take away Arvin’s fear.

“I love you too, Arvin.” He pulled your body flush against his when you responded, a heavy sigh of relief leaving his chest. Much like Arvin, you hadn’t known what real love felt like. You’d even started believing that maybe you weren’t meant for such a luxury.

Now you and Arvin felt like the richest people in the world, despite having almost nothing to your names. As long as you were in each others’ arms, you had everything. You were each others’ trust, honesty, comfort, compassion, and protection.

_______

Taglist:

@peterswebshooters

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

@tomsirishgirlx

@peterswebshooters

@femmme-xxx-fatale

@kittyformannn

@aidinniram

@minejungwoo

@mathletemadison

[wri0thesley]

Nat... 👉👈 since requests are open can I please request some Gojo fluff? If you need a little inspo maybe like, reader and him meet after they were abroad for a mission or something? I'm in love with this funky man and I just wanna give him kiths

sweet tooth - gojo x reader, sfw, 2.5k

the early bird catches the worm. or the cake, you guess.

(just a lot of talking about food tbh . . . i dont get to write pure sfw fluff much, thank u for letting me indulge in my jjk brainrot NFJVND. gn reader! )

You know as well as anyone how little free time a jujutsu sorcerer has. You’ve spent most of your past few years rushing around from place to place, calling it a good night’s rest when you manage to fall amongst your coverings before the clock strikes three in the morning. You think this probably has to go double for somebody in such a constant state of being needed as Gojo – but still, he’d shown up outside your room this morning, bright and early, and said; “We’re going out!”

He hadn’t mentioned that you were still clad in pyjamas, your hair still a mess about your face, eyes still sleep and shadowed. You had jumped out of bed at the knock, of course – you’re used to being needed at the drop of a hat – but there is nothing at all in the way Gojo is looking at you to suggest there’s any kind of danger brewing.

He got in last night at the same time as you, after an exorcism had dragged on longer than expected – you know this. So how is his skin still glowing like moonlight, his voice still so bright, his hair still falling over his blindfold in that effortless perfectly-styled-without-being-styled way?

If he’s slept, he’s gotten the same hour and fifteen minutes you’ve gotten.

“Not even a warning?” You sigh, stifling a yawn. “I haven’t had time to clean my weapons or anything--”

“Woah!” Gojo’s grin doesn’t fade, but he holds up his hands as if he’s trying to avoid a savage attack. “Just you and me. No curses, promise. You won’t be needing those.” He cocks his head to the side. “Unless you wanna try and take me. I think you’d lose!”

Your brow furrows. You know you’d lose, and so does he.

“Have you seen the time?” You ask him, instead. You don’t question why or how he’d gotten into the hallway to stand like this outside of the room you’re renting in Tokyo for a while. You’ve learnt after knowing him for a while that what Gojo wants, he gets – besides. If he’d sweet-talked your landlady into letting him in, you couldn’t blame her for falling for his charms.

He sticks his head into your room and turns his face towards the clock on the wall, ticking merrily away, mocking you. You had hoped, after last night, the next time you saw a clock the hour hand would be well past twelve again. He pulls back.

“Now I have.”

“. . . aren’t you tired?”

Gojo shrugs, maddeningly. Half of what he does is irritating to the highest degree – the other half makes your stomach do strange somersaults that you try and push away. Getting a crush on Gojo Satoru is just going to lead to disaster. Although at this point, you have to admit to yourself that it’s more a case of ‘having a crush’ – there’s not much denying it, when he twinkles at you like this.

“You’ve gotten a good hour of beauty sleep,” he chirps. “Not that you need it. Let me take you out!”

You’re still focussing on the compliment, slipped into his words as if it’s as simple as breathing, when he enters your room full-on and is opening your wardrobe.

“H-hey,” you say, weakly. He’s rifling through the rack without a care in the world. “I—I can dress myself--”

“It’s quicker if I do it,” he replies, pulling out one of your favourite shirts. “Here, catch--!” Your reflexes allow you to not make a fool of yourself in front of him. “The colour of that one’s pretty! It’ll look nice on you.”

You’ve had more clothes piled into your arms before you can blink. You guess that Gojo must know his way around clothes – you’ve seen some of the brands and price tags of things he wears – but you can’t help but be a little flabbergasted by just how casual he is about everything. Maybe it’s the fact that your brain is still short-circuiting after being woken up earlier than you were expecting.

He finishes and walks over to you.

“I’ll wait outside.”

“W-what a gentleman,” you manage, and he throws his head back and laughs, and the laugh feels like it lodges warm in your chest. “After waking me up, bursting into my bedroom--”

“I’ll pay for everything,” he promises. He saunters out of your room, pulling the door closed behind him, calling; “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”

You stand there for a few more moments, still struggling to process the whirlwind that is Gojo’s presence in your life – half joking, half serious, half making you think that maybe you stand a chance, when he calls through the door;

“I can’t hear you moving!”

You jump. You wriggle out of your nightwear, your cheeks heating up, as you snap back;

“You said you were going to wait out there, not that you were going to press your ear to it and listen like some kind of stalker--!”

–

You stare in confusion at the fancy window in front of you, decorated with swirling cursive in gold. From outside, you can see into the establishment – the white scrollwork chairs, the cake stands, the menus standing up in their pale white leather covers. The early morning sunlight from outside is reflecting off a perfectly organised display case teeming with tiny little perfectly formed cakes.

“If you were craving something sweet,” you say, eventually, “surely there was an easier way to get it than this.”

Gojo grabs your arm cheerfully, pulling you towards the entrance of the patisserie.

“Well, I got the first sweet thing I was craving,” he ticks it off with his other hand. “But then I had one of my patented brainwaves.” He elbows you. “Put them both together!”

“I’m not feeling very sweet after you interrupted my sleep,” you mumble, but you know that there’s no real bite in your words. You hope Gojo doesn’t notice the reaction that you have – you know he’d never let it go. You often don’t know how to respond to his flirting – he has a reputation, after all, and you are just . . . you.

“We had to get here early, anyway,” he says, as he stands before the counter. The man in the apron and chef hat behind it recognises him immediately, lighting up – you wonder how much money Gojo spends on expensive patisserie. Everyone knows he has a sweet tooth. “They sell out of some of the best stuff well before ten!”

Gojo knows exactly what he’s doing as he points out various desserts from the display case, the man falling over himself to get the – frankly absurd amount of sweets – carefully packaged up for him. You’re not surprised, knowing Gojo, about the cute animal-shaped cakes that he chooses, the smiling bears and cats with ears made of sliced strawberries. You’re a little more surprised by all of the fancier pieces he chooses that you don’t recognise, but you don’t have much time for dwelling on it.

Spoils in hand, you peer further into the establishment to choose a table.

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Gojo says cheerfully. “We’ll find somewhere outside to sit. It’s such a nice morning!”

You don’t miss the grin he shoots you as he says ‘morning’, the sidelong tip of his head as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll scold him again for interrupting your sleep. You do no such thing, content to be pulled along behind him again as he goes off in search of a place to enjoy his spoils.

People just tend to be pulled along by Gojo’s magnetism, you’ve discovered – and you are, hopelessly, no different.

He finds a quiet bench in a shady corner of one of the local parks; the only other people going past occasional elderly, walking their little dogs. He pats the wooden frame of the bench next to him, smiling.

“You’re not going to make me eat all of this by myself, huh?”

“It’s enough for eight people,” you say, sighing and resigning yourself to your fate as you take the place. He’s lucky you have a sweet tooth too; if he’d brought someone else, they’d probably be shirking back in horror at all the sugar. “You could probably eat it by yourself anyway.”

He pouts.

“I want to share it with you,” he says, cajoling – his fingers hover over one of the smaller cakes, a perfect bite-sized morsel. You try not to think about the elegant lines of his fingers and the power behind them as he plucks it up and offers it to you. “This one’s really good.”

You bring up your hand to take the sweet from him, but he laughs as your fingers bounce away from him, not quite able to get a purchase.

“Let me feed you,” he says to you, and blood rushes to your face all over again.

“I—I can feed myself,” you say, swallowing thickly. Gojo’s smile, on full, sculpted lips, makes butterflies crash into one another in the pit of your stomach.

He brings the treat to your mouth and he’s right, it does look really good. It’s a neat little roll cake, small in Gojo’s fingers, with the green colouring so many sweets you’ve eaten in Japan have been – you hope it’s not matcha, knowing the flavour will surprise you and Gojo will probably laugh, but you open your mouth in defeat and let Gojo pop it in there. His fingers linger a little too long against your lips, his expression fluttering so quickly you don’t quite catch it.

If you didn’t know better . . . you’d say that he had just fought back a blush.

“Is it good?” He asks, and his voice sounds a little strangled. You bite down on the cake, the juice of the strawberries coating your tongue – it is matcha, but the flavour is offset by the sweetness of the vanilla and fruits, and you’re glad about it. You nod enthusiastically, and he laughs.

“I told you!” He taps your cheek. “I know what I’m talking about!”

“You’re so smug,” you tell him, unable to hold back the laughter that’s bubbling out of you. Alright, maybe he woke you up too early and maybe he’s dragged you outside and maybe he’s been haunting your daydreams for months now, but . . . you think he means well. And you can’t deny that the sun is shining and the cakes are really delicious.

“If you were me,” he says, stretching out his arms over the back of the bench, “you would be smug too.” You shake your head at him, but he has a satisfied smile on his face. “Feed me one!”

“Are you going to let me?” You ask. “Or are you just going to bounce it away with your Infinity to make fun of me?”

You hover over the selection yourself, considering what to choose for him. In the end, you go for one of the mini slices of mille crepe cake, reasoning with yourself that even if it’s unusual to be eating so much cake this early, at least crepes are a traditional breakfast. Gojo obediently opens his mouth wider as you lift the slice.

You falter.

“You really want me to feed you?” You ask him, unsure. He laughs, grabbing ahold of your wrist – you almost start as he takes a bite from the treat, his lips tantalisingly close to your fingers. Another bite, and the cake is gone (you’ve never seen slices of mille crepe so small – but then again, judging by the eye-watering amount Gojo paid for his spoils, you’d never be able to afford to buy from a place like that).

“Mm,” he smacks his lips together. “It’s good.”

You swallow, noticing that there’s a smear of the cream between layers at the corner of his mouth. Gojo notices you staring, and quirks his lips into a smirk. “You’re staring,” he says. “I know I’m gorgeous, but--”

“You’ve got . . .” You say, awkward, motioning to his face. Somehow, it feels too intimate to lean forward and dab it away yourself – he’d asked you to feed him, after all. If you did it of your own accord. . .

“Huh? Oh,” He moves one of the arms casually draped over the bench to his face, and you think he is going to wipe it away – but instead, he hooks his thumb under his blindfold, pushing it up casually so the light hits the swirling colours in his eyes.

You’ve seen them before, of course – you’ve seen Gojo at work, after all – but they’re still a surprise, a bright moment of swirling starshine dropped on you when you’re least expecting it. Your stomach does that flip-flop again, the one that you try so hard to ignore – but when he’s looking at you like that, curious and smug all at once, you don’t really know how to handle it.

You’re glad you’re in a secluded spot. There’s nobody to see the embarrassing display of you not quite knowing what to do with yourself.

“You can get it,” he says to you. “I don’t mind.”

“I—”

“Look.” His other hand rises, cups your face, thumb ghosting across the same spot on your cheek that he’d tapped earlier. “I left icing sugar on your face. I’ll get that, and then we’ll be even.”

(Did he do that on purpose, you wonder? You wouldn’t be surprised.)

Your hand is trembling as you reach for the cream. You try and force your fingers to be still as you lean in closer to him, eyes concentrated, as you wipe the little splotch of cream from his mouth. You’re so close you can see galaxies in his eyes, the fan of white lashes, the way that his throat bobs when he swallows as if he’s nervous--

Nervous? Gojo? That can’t be true.

“I got it,” you breathe, though you don’t move. Your faces are so close together. You could lean forward, just a bit, and meet his lips with your own. Gojo’s eyes stay trained on you, not faltering in the least. His thumb is still on your cheek. Your own finger hasn’t moved from the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna know what it tastes like?” Is that a falter, in his voice? You’re stuttering all over the place, but Gojo--

“I’m not gonna put that in my mouth after it’s been on your face,” you tell him, without moving. Your heart is beating ten to the dozen. Gojo’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says – and he breaks the distance himself, and suddenly he is kissing you. The hand on your cheek cupping your face into his, the other hand going about your waist, holding you tightly against him like he’s been wanting to do it since the moment he woke you up that morning.

(The mille crepe cake is delicious, you find out, from the lingering taste on his lips. Next time you two go there in the early morning rush, Gojo buys two slices.)

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 13 - Spinning

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Angst

Summary: You and Gojo are caught up in your feelings and he unintentionally breaks another rule. 

A/N: (18+ / minors and ageless blogs dni) New chapter! This is a bit of a filler chapter but I am working up to some dramatic things (smut and angst coming up!) plus revealing some of the secrets that happened in the timeline 👀 I hope you enjoy it! And as always comments are appreciated ☺️

- - - 

Sitting cross legged on your bedroom floor, you proceeded to fold the fresh laundry into perfectly neat piles. Music enveloped your room, the bass from your speaker bouncing off the walls as you mindlessly hummed along to the track that was playing. This is how you were choosing to unwind after a long work week, by organizing and cleaning up your apartment. There was something completely cathartic about resetting your space and you found yourself having plenty of free time on your hands recently.

Gojo has been exceptionally busy. At first there was an itch when you began seeing less of him, the two of you would plan to get together but that consistently kept getting cancelled. Eventually those plans transitioned to you agreeing on catching up with one another once things settled. Now it seems the only time you managed to hear from your friend was with sporadic phone calls and random text messages that he would send you at weird hours. The itch slowly turned into an ache, that familiar knot in your stomach making its presence known more often than usual.

There was something about the way he managed to fill the silence. You always gave him a hard time about talking your ear off but realised that he actually entertained you with some great conversations.

Even though half the time he was talking about ridiculous subject matters…

You had to hand it to Satoru though, he always spoke with such enthusiasm he would make the concept of paint drying seem fascinating.

He was fascinating.

Eight years of friendship have taught you that but you were smart enough not to feed his ego. Despite the two of you being close, Gojo still never fully let you in. You couldn’t deny that you were intrigued by him, curious to know more about the strongest sorcerer who seemed totally unphased by his own title whenever he was around you. You wanted to know more about how he fought off curses and protected people from the evils that seemed to be invisible in your eyes. Although he consistently evaded your questions, he did slowly open up about other things. You particularly loved the way his face let up when he talked about his students and it made you realise that if there was anything Gojo Satoru had committed himself to, it was his role as an instructor to the next generation of sorcerers.

Still, you usually tried to pry information out of him when the two of you would get lost in deep conversation, noticing the way Gojo would drift in his own thoughts whenever the subject seemed to focus on him.

Clearly there was an extent to which the man loved talking about himself.

There was a point when he spoke where you saw his face grow pensive as he brought up an old friend. He referenced him in passing but the way his mouth fell pained you just as much as it seemed to hurt him. Your question was on the tip of your tongue, eager to learn more about the people within his own circle, but Satoru immediately shifted the conversation onto something else.

That wall, much like his infinity, is impenetrable.

Unfortunately, the dynamics were in his favor. You wished that you could conceal your own emotions as easily around him but it was impossible. Gojo had the capability of knowing exactly how you were thinking and feeling at any given second. His incredible perception was his advantage, that’s why he is able to gauge your reactions so well.

You smiled subconsciously to yourself, goosebumps floating up to your shoulders when you realised how much you wanted your arms wrapped around his neck, your body pressing into his chest while breathing that spicy, sweet cologne…

Stop it.

You paused your action, the jeans on your lap in a mid-fold as you froze in place and your brain instantly turned off those dangerous ideas.  

You swallowed your own emotions, your abdomen tight when you realised that you had just spent the last ten minutes having intimate thoughts about Gojo.

You really shouldn’t but there was something about the way he acts around you that made you the slightest bit curious as to what he was thinking and how he was feeling.

How often did you cross his mind and did he even miss you as much as you did him?

At some point the two of you were going to have to stop this little game you were playing. Even though you weren’t seeking it out at the moment, you do want to settle down eventually with somebody you love. Satoru made it perfectly clear where he stood on relationships. He had no desire to get involved with anybody and the concept of marriage was something he completely rejected.

You recalled having a conversation with him about: 

“Are you really telling me that you’re okay living as a bachelor for the rest of your life?”

“Happily, actually…” Gojo replied, while you both continued your heated debate on the prospects of love.

“But why are you so against it?”

"I have my reasons,” he replied with a shrug.

Satoru always seemed to have a reason for everything but he was not willing to share it with you, leaving you in moments like this to analyze the little things he says to try and put the pieces together yourself.

Truthfully, you don’t want to stop as you found yourself fixated on this new…friends with benefits-ship…

Everything about it felt so good that you couldn’t even remember what things were like before you started hooking up.

How could you go back to just being friends after he’s seen you in your most vulnerable state? How were you supposed to pretend that his hands haven’t unraveled you into submission time and time again? How could you sit next to him without thinking about kissing him for hours on end? How were you supposed to listen to him talk without remembering the moments where he would whisper angel in your ear?

How the hell did you manage to keep your hands off him before this even started?

There was always the unspoken fact that you found each other attractive but since this new dynamic has started the two of you were like magnets whenever you were in close proximity to one another.

Well, you were able to keep the barrier because you were in a happily committed relationship with Haru, you interjected and suddenly you found yourself slumping your shoulders.

Haru was in love with you. He gave you the companionship you needed, he filled the silence with mindless conversations and was the one who held you when you needed him. He was the one to swallow your cries with soft kisses, that made you laugh in hysterics when you needed to boost your mood…

Your heart stopped, realizing that you were seeking out what Haru gave you with Gojo. Your gut wrenching at the idea of you using your friend to fill the emotional gap that Haru left. This ache that knotted your insides meant nothing and you were letting your thoughts confuse you into thinking that you were missing Gojo.

All you needed was to get your distraction back.

After all, Gojo is just your friend.

You had no reason to think anything else could come of this and burned any other thought about Satoru from crossing your mind for the rest of the evening.

If you even thought for a second that you might be falling for him, you would cut ties immediately. You weren’t going to put a strain on your friendship because you’re silly ideals were getting in the way of your agreement.

The two of you were just fucking.

Nothing more, nothing less.

***

Gojo studied the woman before him, acknowledging the fact that she is one of the most stunning individuals he had ever laid his eyes on. She was older than him by ten years but if it wasn’t for the age on her online profile, he wouldn’t have been able to tell.

She was tall, meeting his own towering height, give or take a few inches. Her long, pin straight hair flowed to her hips, accentuating her curves and covering her supple breasts. Her face could strike down any man that looked at her with those deep eyes and he was tempted to nibble on her full lips. Seeing her in person made Gojo realize that her price was high for a reason and totally justifiable.

Anyone would pay extra to fuck a goddess.

Somehow, he wound up here thanks to his own frustrations. His desire for you was driving him wild and his own hands weren’t enough to solve this problem. He still respected the rules that were unbroken and knew that as long as he didn’t go too far with Ami, he was fine. He wasn’t going to have sex with her but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t help him out with his current predicament in other ways.

Besides, you did tell him that he was allowed to see other people. However, that didn’t stop his stomach from twisting at the thought of climbing into bed with someone other than you. He couldn’t quite figure out what this awkward sensation was or why he was bothered by his own decision to meet up with Ami in the first place.

Gojo stripped down to his boxers before sitting on the edge of her satin covered mattress. She was admiring him with amusement, the tempting smile on her lips telling him that she was also enjoying what she was seeing.

“You paid for a full hour but said that you might not be here for that long. Did something urgent come up?” she questioned, her voice sensually low and sending a shiver up Gojo’s spine.

My she is dangerous, he thought to himself, knowing full well how this entire experience would go under different circumstances.

The circumstances being, well, you.

“I don’t plan on sticking around too long...” he explained.

“I’ll have to adjust your pay accordingly then,” she replied, taking a few steps forward until she was standing in front of him.

“I don’t mind paying for the full hour,” Gojo teased with a grin, his free hand moving to touch her silky hair as he rubbed it between his fingers.

She smiled, nearly taking his breath away as she brought her finger to the blindfold covering his eyes.

“I don’t like accepting money for free,” she  stated, tracing her touch down his chiseled jawline. “I bet you’re handsome but I am guessing you don’t plan on taking this thing off to show me what you really look like.”

“Yep,” Gojo smiled as Ami proceeded to slide across her bed next to him. "And you guessed right, I’ve got an exceptionally pretty face.”

“Cocky too,” she purred, “there’s a special way I treat guys like you…”

Gojo hummed, switching his position so he was lying back against her pillows. Ami crawled her body over his lean torso, her hands rubbing up and down his thigh as she glanced in his direction.

“Oh, yeah? I would love to see how...” Gojo insisted, his breath growing heavy as she guided her hand all the way to his mouth.

She traced his bottom lip with her thumb, a devious mask highlighting her stunning features as she spoke, “Be a good boy and lie back while I take care of you…”

He fully caved, allowing this sultry siren to take control by touching and teasing his body however she pleased. Gojo usually enjoyed relinquishing his power every now and then but for whatever reason it was taking some effort for him to fully immerse himself with what was happening. Ami straddled his cock, before proceeding to press her mouth against his. Her lips were working fervently over his own as she deepened the kiss, but the spark that he needed just wasn’t igniting.

When Ami flicked her tongue over his, he would only think about the sensation of yours. The taste of you in his mouth lingered like an addictive poison. One that he craved every single time you crossed his mind. The sound of your moans played in his ear and the sweet way you called out his name when he touched you between your legs filtered his brain. He was only brought back to the reality that it wasn’t you pushing your body against his, when Ami wrapped her fingers around his throat. He tried to erase you and focus on the woman before him but was persistently failing.

She could see that something was off from how he was responding to her caresses. “Are you sure you're up for this tonight, baby?” Ami teased, whispering into his mouth as she snagged his bottom lip between her teeth. “You don’t seem ready for me...”

“Fuck…” Gojo grunted out of frustration, knocking his head back as he pressed his fingers to his temple. “It’s not you, I’m just distracted…”

“What’s on your mind?” she continued, stroking his broad chest lovingly to try and coax him out of the daze he was in.

“Not what...who…” he responded shyly, his cheeks blushing ever so slightly by his admittance.

“I see…” she cooed, “Wife? Girlfriend?”

Gojo scoffed, a comical laugh escaping him as he shook his head.

“Definitely not.”

Ami pressed her lips together, her nail doodling along his upper body with random figures as she continued to question her intriguing client.

“Tell me about her…”

Gojo froze, his hands digging into Ami’s thighs upon hearing her bold question, “she’s just a friend. There’s nothing to say...”

“Is she beautiful?”

“She’s gorgeous,” Gojo exhaled, his words passing his lips faster than he could process what he had just said. Ami tracked her hands down between her legs, stroking his boxers as she massaged his length.

“Tell me what she looks like…”

He described you in detail, from your sinfully sweet lips to the beautiful sound of your laughter and how soft your skin felt in his hands. She continued tricking him into revealing the intimate thoughts that swirled in his mind when he thought about you. She heard the way Gojo’s voice wavered as he swelled between her hands, the tip of his cock poking through his underwear as the pre-cum stained the material of his boxers. Ami pulled the clothing away from his hips, hands returning to grip his member as she continued stroking up and down his shaft.

“Do you think about fucking her with the other women you meet?”

“Yes,” Gojo revealed through gritted teeth, swallowing hard as she played with his tip by circling his thumb over the slit of his cock.

“How often?”

“Too often,” the sorcerer hissed, his hips bucking into her hands.

“I bet you wish you were fucking her right now, don’t you?”

She saw how turned on he is and how easily the thought of you brought him close to his release. Ami spread her legs, adjusting her stance until she brought the tip of his cock to her entrance. Gojo hesitated, knowing that he needed to stop what was about to happen. This wasn’t supposed to go this far. He was only here for a quick hand job or blowjob, but he couldn’t suppress a satisfied moan as she slid down to take in his length.

“F-fuck, wai-...”

“Shh, baby, close your eyes and think of your sweet angel…” Ami whispered in his ear, making Gojo roll his blue irises to the back of his head as he relaxed into her touch.

She didn’t speak after that, fulfilling her promise of taking care of him but also ensuring that his focus was solely on the mental image of you. The sound of her skin bouncing up and down his length took over the entire room. The way Ami stated that you were his was enough to send him over the edge and it didn’t take long until he climaxed at the thought, quickly pulling out of her and releasing hot ropes of cum all over her stomach but imagining that it was you the entire time. She immediately cleaned herself up after they finished, before giving Gojo some privacy and allowing him to get himself together.

After he got dressed, he pulled out his phone to transfer the payment. He doubled the amount he was supposed to give, totally aware that she didn’t reach her own release and was disappointed in himself that he couldn’t pleasure the remarkable temptress before him.

He slipped on his boots, his mind racing as the guilt rushed right through him. He hated that broke another rule, especially since this particular one was a boundary you set for your own comfort. He was angry at himself that he disrespected that and was annoyed for crossing the line in the first place.

What the fuck is wrong with me?, he thought to himself.

“I told you I don’t get paid for doing nothing. I don't accept money like that, not even from spoiled rich boys like you,” Ami stated, her words stung but she spoke in such a gentle tone that didn’t offend the sorcerer. She was leaning against the wall as she appeared before him, her body now covered with just a pink robe.

“You got me off but I did nothing to reciprocate. I tell all the other girls to charge double if that happens.”

“How considerate,” she mused before arching her brow in delight at him, “but for the sake of my own conscience I feel like I need to give you something in return…”

Gojo stood up from his seat, smoothing out his clothes before approaching her slowly. Even though he got what he wanted out of this arrangement, he was feeling worse about himself the longer he stayed in this room.

“How about a piece of advice before you leave and we can call it even?” Ami questioned.

“What is it?” the sorcerer wondered, hearing her feet patter against the carpet as she followed his footsteps to her front door.

She paused when she reached for the handle, before tilting her face and directing her full attention towards his covered eyes.

“Tell your friend how you feel or cut off whatever it is you’re doing. If you don’t tell her then you’re fucked, plain and simple.”

“Look, what happened just now doesn’t mean anything…”

She raised her fingers to his lips, stopping him from even attempting to defend what transpired.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re easy to read. I have had clients come here trying to forget their lovers and those who come to see me because they can’t resist their own primative urges. I see the ones who are lonely, who only visit me for companionship and nothing more. Then there are the ones who are like you, who will bury themselves in any cunt they see just to pretend that they aren’t in love with somebody else…”

Gojo clenched his jaw, squeezing his hands together as the heat rose up to his face.

“You don't know what you're talking about. Besides, wanting to fuck somebody and being in love are two very different things.”

“True, except those two things are tangled up in one person when it comes to you…”

Gojo pressed his lips into a thin line, unsure as to why her accusation made him so irritated.

“Awww, don’t get angry, pretty boy. It’s unbecoming for somebody as handsome as you are…” Ami whispered, before kissing him on the cheek as she said her goodbye. “It’s okay, I promise that your secret is safe with me…”

*** 

CHAPTER 14: JEALOUSY

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Amazing, ok so, how would the guys react to a super cuddly friend, but like they're really scared of crossing boundaries so they never really touched or anything, but as soon as they get the green light from the boys they're like. Always somehow touching them, like arm around the waist, legs on their lap during movie night, hugs from behind whenever they can etc

I was so hyped to write this because I'm definitely a touchy feely type of person but I've also just recently been like "boundaries you fucking walnut" so this is right up my alley.

TMNT Headcanons

The boys reacting to a super cuddly reader:

Michaelangelo

Alright let's be honest here

Mikey is the most intimate dude ever

He has no problems with physical contact as long as you're chill with it

Which you are, you'll take a hug wherever you can get one

The two of you have had your own handshake since the second week of you knowing him

His family however, is unaware of this

Obviously they know April is cool with touching them, she doesn't care

But they had no idea how you were about it

That was until you stayed for dinner

You'd basically fought Leo to let you help clean up

They knew you and Mikey were close

When you couldn't reach the shelf that the plate you were holding was supposed to go on they did not expect you to handle it the way you did

"Oi Mikey can I get a lift over here?"

The orange turtle didn't even look at you, backing up just enough and putting his hand out for you

You placed your foot firmly in his hand and climbed fluidly onto his shoulders, settling on the ridge of his shell and sliding the dish into it's proper place

"can you get this one too angelcakes?"

Mikey passed a cup into your hands and you proceeded to set it on the neighboring shelf, still perfectly balanced on your living perch

His brothers didn't know what they were expecting from the two of you but it definitely wasn't that

Leonardo

Watching Leo train was enough to make you tired

You weren't even doing anything, just watching

But once he'd finished his training and sat down to meditate you got up and padded over to him

"hey, do you mind if I sit behind you and use your back as a pillow while you do that? I'm tired as shit but I don't wanna crash on the couch right now, Raph almost crushed my head last time."

This smug fucker had the audacity to laugh at you

"be my guest. Just don't move too much"

Que the excited brain, you dropped to the ground and backed up to him as he settled

Your head made a resolute thunk against his shell and within minutes you were passed out

Leo was thankful that you didn't snore

This became your routine, so much so that he found it hard to meditate when you weren't there

He missed the familiar weight on his back

He'd approached you on the couch one evening, you were mid-argument with Mikey over some sort of movie theory and didn't even notice him standing there

"y/n?"

Your head snapped around to look at him

"yeahhhh? Did I do something?"

"no, I was going to meditate. Are you coming?"

You bounced to your feet, knocking Mikey in the shoulder before wandering towards the other room

"you win for now Mikey, I gotta go be Leo's human paperweight"

"you're not my- you know what close enough."

Raphael

No no no listen listen

This man is touch starved

AND I MEAN TOUCH STARVED

If you so much as roll for affection and get a +3 he dissolves

But he's also pretty sure you'd hate touching him or any of his brothers so asking for a hug is out of the question

If you want to touch him you'll initiate, right?

In-fucking-correct

Then at some point mid session you managed to land a solid ass punch right to his mouth

He crumbled on impact, grasping his own face in shock

Coincidentally you were also grasping his face in an attempt to see his split lip

"holy shit dude are you okay? I didn't chip any teeth did i? Wow okay that's bleeding pretty badly- one sec, don't move!"

Your hands left his cheeks and you scrambled to your feet, sprinting out of the room in search of a first aid kit

Raph looked up when you returned seconds later, the small tin box in hand, and kneeled at his side

"okay you might want to ice that but I'd definitely get a second opinion from donnie"

He was still staring when you handed him a gauze pad for his lip

"I'm really sorry Raph, I didn't mean to rock your shit like that"

The brain™ is recalibrating

Systems coming back online

He used one arm to pull you into a hug

"nah I'm good, it's just a split lip, barely even hurts- AH SHIT!"

you busted out laughing, tumbling out of his hug and covering your own mouth to contain your giggles

"I'll go get that ice for ya then?"

"yeah yeah shut up"

Donatello

Donnie didn't like to showcase that fact that he hated losing

He literally couldn't with the family he had, everything was a damn competition

And this happened to be a literal one

You, raph, Mikey, and he had been playing COD for hours now

You lost feeling in your thumbs about ten minutes ago

You and Donnie had lost every match since you'd split into teams and you were both getting sick of it

Donnie because he was a fucking genius, why couldn't he win this game?

You because you needed to pee like fifteen minutes ago and you weren't allowed to get up until the final match was over

"get your head in the game Donnie"

"oh wow thanks for the advice y/n, let me pull it out of my ass for you"

You wacked his shoulder with a scowl, settling your elbows on your knees and leaning into the controller

Mikey and Raph looked way too smug right now, like they knew that they were going to win

Neither of you would live with that

When it came down to the last 7 seconds you managed to snipe Mikey, making raph, who'd been shot out a minute prior, yell in outrage

Having been declared the victor you both triumphantly threw your controllers down on the couch

He went for a high five

You went for a hug

You both paused

He shrugged at you, earning an excited grin and you let him tackle you with a hug

Your airways were very constricted but at this point you didn't care one bit

"hey don?"

"yeah?"

"you can put your head back in your ass now."

Just as a general rule of thumb, whichever turtle I put last is usually the one I have the hardest time coming up with things for. So if you notice that the last ones always seem to be lacking that's why. Brain be sucking on the remainders of my creative juice.

Hope you liked this tho! I enjoyed doing it! Stay hydrated 😉

-Mars 🌠

[kpop-zone]

True North | Chuu

High School AU | exes | “I let you mooch off of my Netflix and this is how you repay me?” | “It’s just so hard not to fall in love with you.”

Genre: angsty

Wordcount: 1,870

As soon as you stepped foot into the classroom, you instantly felt like turning around and running away again. Of course, she was there. Laughing with people that she probably didn’t even know. But as the social butterfly that she was, she could charm every person on this planet in less than a second. Just like she had charmed you. You hated yourself for hating to see her this happy. You didn’t want to be that ex. But somehow you couldn’t bear to know that she was absolutely unfazed by your breakup while you were still looking through your pictures every night. Just when you were contemplating whether this was enough reason for you to drop this class, you could suddenly feel someone tapping your shoulder, so you turned around in confusion.

“Are you already tired of my class before the school year has even really started?”

Mr.Kim, your math teacher, asked with an amused expression on his face, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

“N-no of course not!”

You stuttered, feeling like he had just caught you redhanded. Embarrassed, you lowered your head and quickly entered the room to search for a vacant seat. What a great way to leave a good impression on the first day of school... Not wanting to make an even worse impression, you quickly rummaged through your backpack to fish out your calculator and your pencil case when you suddenly felt someone tapping your shoulder once more. Stressed out, you turned around, just to be met with the wide (and highly adorable) grin of your ex-girlfriend who waved excitedly at you from the seat right behind you. In an instant, your already bad mood got even worse, and you rolled your eyes before turning to the front again. You already knew that this would be your least favorite class throughout the whole school year. The rest of the week confirmed your suspicion as you were able to avoid your girlfriend wherever else you were going. You attended no other classes together and in the cafeteria you always made sure to pick a table at the opposite side from where she was sitting. It made it easier not to think about her all of the time which was why you had a stomachache right before your next math class on Monday. You knew that seeing her would demolish all progress in getting over her in the blink of an eye.

But to your surprise Jiwoo wasn’t entertaining the whole class yet when you entered the room later than usual after having given yourself a pep talk in front of the school for almost ten minutes. Her seat was still empty, making you hope that she had dropped the class for some inexplicable reason. Nervously, you wriggled about on your chair while staring at the clock on the wall incessantly. There were only a few more seconds left till the class would start. If she wasn’t here yet it had to mean that she would not show up anymore, relieving you of the burden to see her every week, right? To your dismay, however, your ex-girlfriend breathlessly stumbled into the classroom with two iced beverages in her hand right when the bell rang to indicate the start of the first period. Like the needle of compass always found north, her eyes immediately found yours, causing her face to light up in an instant.

With big steps she headed directly for you like she was on some sort of mission, making you get smaller and smaller in your seat. You couldn’t even stand seeing her without having the urge to fling your arms around her neck to beg her to take you back, you definitely weren’t strong enough to talk with her. For a split-second you thought about running away, but before you could make a decision, a high-pitched squeal catapulted you back to reality again. Jiwoo’s wide grin had suddenly turned into a horrified grimace, and you felt a cold shudder spreading from your chest to the rest of your body. Confused, you looked down on yourself, making you realize that one of the beverages that Jiwoo had proudly paraded around, had found its way onto your shirt.

“I’m so sorry!! I didn’t mean to. I stumbled over your backpack and somehow the cup slipped out of my hand.”

Jiwoo gasped, still frozen to the spot. Your initial shock quickly died down as the ice-cold liquid seeped through your clothes, managing to wake you up better than any warm coffee.

“Are you serious?? I let you mooch off of my Netflix and this is how you repay me?!”

You growled angrily, 100% certain that Jiwoo had dropped the beverage on you on purpose.

“No!!! It’s not like that! This was not on purpose.”

Your ex-girlfriend yelled in despair, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes that had always been able to make you forgive her for everything.

“I can fix this!”

From one second to the other, Jiwoo’s annoyingly contagious positivity was back and before you knew what was happening, you already felt yourself being pulled off your chair towards the door. Without granting you a voice, Jiwoo dragged you through the almost empty hallways of your school to -as you assumed- the restrooms. Instead of protesting against Jiwoo’s unsolicited decision, however, you were busy staring at her hand that was tightly gripping your wrist. As much as you fought it, you couldn’t suppress the tingling feeling in your stomach that the much longed for feeling of Jiwoo’s touch on your skin caused. While the two of you had been dating, there had barely been a moment when you hadn’t held hands. And after you had broken up, you sometimes felt like you were going through some sort of phantom pain because your hands felt so empty without hers to hold. Now everything finally felt in place again and you couldn’t help but to wish that Jiwoo would never let go. Unfortunately, however, everything had to come to an end eventually. And your daydreaming of a time when everything was still alright came to an abrupt halt when someone suddenly called your name.

“Y/N?”

With a jolt you snapped you out of your trance and realized that Jiwoo neither was holding your wrist anymore nor dragging you through the hallways. The two of you had already reached one of the restrooms of your school and she was staring at you expectantly like she was waiting for you to say something.

“W-what?”

You asked confused, only faintly being aware that Jiwoo had asked you a question.

“I asked whether it’s ok that I clean your shirt?”

She repeated herself although this was the first time that you actually understood what she had been saying. Still feeling like you weren’t able to form a coherent verbal response because your brain had run too hot, you simply nodded and Jiwoo softly started dabbing a wet paper towel on the giant brown stain on your shirt.

“Oh no, this is your favorite shirt even, isn’t it?”

Jiwoo whined when the stain didn’t vanish as she had hoped, but you couldn’t even care less about it anymore. She remembered what your favorite shirt was? You knew that you shouldn’t feel so flattered by this unimportant fact, but your heart didn’t seem to care about what your brain had to say and fluttered in your chest by its own accord. This would be the perfect opportunity to make her feel bad and finally wipe that annoying grin off her face at least for a while, but once more you remained silent. Jiwoo didn’t seem to be bothered by your silence though. Instead, she started babbling about random things like always when she was nervous, and you simply listened to her sweet voice that you had missed so much. You didn’t know how long you stood there, allowing yourself to get completely entranced by her charms. Once more only an unexpected sound could rip you out of your daydreaming although this time the wake-up call was more unpleasant than the last one. It was the sound of your own voice that abruptly ripped you out of your trance. The most surprising thing about hearing your own voice was that you hadn’t even intended to speak. But it seemed like after the betrayal of your heart, now also your brain had plotted against you.

“It’s just so hard not to fall in love with you.”

It took you some time to process what your mouth had let slip without your permission, but as soon as the message arrived in your brain, your eyes widened in shock and your body tensed up. Jiwoo mirrored your reaction and stopped dabbing your shirt before slowly looking up from your shirt and into your eyes. It was hard to pinpoint what emotions flashed over your ex-girlfriend’s face as your own emotions seemed to ride a rollercoaster in your brain. A little part of yourself was relieved to be freed of this secret. But you were also angry at yourself for letting the truth slip. After letting Jiwoo break your heart, you had sworn yourself to never let her know that she still had a grip on you despite everything that she had done to you. You told yourself that she would never be allowed to know that she still managed to make you fall in love with her over and over again. Every day. Every time that you had to see her.

But now she knew.

And you couldn’t help but to feel ashamed. Although you had known that Jiwoo obviously did not suffer from the breakup like you did, you gave her the gratification of revealing the power that she still had over you. Not being able to bear this shame any longer, you quickly shoved Jiwoo away, causing her to stumble backwards dumbfounded. Without losing another word, you brushed past her and fled the restroom. The tears that pooled in your eyes and stained the floor, made it hard to see where you were going but you trusted your instincts to get you as far away from Jiwoo as you possibly could. Once again, however, her omnipresent grasp reached out for you as her name rolled off her tongue and automatically made you slow your steps.

“Y/N, wait!”

Her voice bounced off the walls in the empty hallway and seemed to follow you until you reached the front exit, but this time, you didn’t give in to Jiwoo’s grasp. You kept running until you had long left the school building and couldn’t even see it anymore. You only stopped running once your lungs burned and you felt too lost to keep going although you knew this part of town like the back of your hand. It was no help to know the names of the streets by heart when none of these places could make the compass needle in your heart stop spinning. No matter where you would run, the needle would always keep on pointing in the same direction. Your feet would always want to carry you back to the same place.

To your true north that you had just left behind.

[ayellowcurtain]

this was one of the best reads ever will you please think about writing a part 2 where they finally kiss the tension and instant connection is too much

Part 1

Sander takes another sip of his beer, using the motion to quietly look at Robbe, smiling to nothing while looking around the party. They haven’t separated in hours since those photos. Sander is not complaining at all because he knows his friends and he knows he won’t have to explain anything to them.

He wonders who are Robbe’s friends - he talked about them but Sander didn’t care to look around and search the guys Robbe had just described to him - and what they’re going to say after Robbe left them for the rest of the night.

Some people are already leaving but it’s not late enough for that, they’re probably going elsewhere because these types of teenage parties are only over or with the police or with the sun up high in the sky already. Sander doesn’t have that patience for that anymore - a year in college can make you feel really adult - but he’ll gladly stay with Robbe for as long as the boy wants him to.

The plan of getting drunk is almost impossible at this point because they talked too much and so there was very little time to search for actual beverages that can get you drunk. This beer won’t do it, Sander thinks as he finishes his bottle, putting it on the kitchen counter.

Robbe looks at what he’s doing, cleaning his lips from the beer with his lips, looking at Sander when he finally looks back at Robbe, knowing the boy was looking.

“Do you want more beer?”

Sander shakes his head, lifting his eyebrows.

“Do you want more beer? I think I’m good.” He looks around, finding the fridge, walking back so Robbe doesn’t get the wrong idea that Sander wants to stop looking at him already. He opens the fridge, and grabs two Cokes for them, showing one to Robbe and he nods his head.

“I guess you’re choosing for me.” Robbe laughs, moving to stand closer to the island, watching Sander open their sodas.

“Sorry. I can get you a beer.”

“No, relax.” He looks up at Sander with those puppy, baby eyes, and Sander smiles at him so he doesn’t just reach and kiss him instead. “I was kidding.”

Robbe carefully puts his long fingers around the can, pulling it closer to him.

“Should we toast?”

Sander nods his head, grabbing his can too. “Yes, of course, to what?”

“To us! Obviously.” Robbe pushes his closer to Sander’s and he clicks the bottom of their cans, staring into Robbe’s eyes as he drinks a little bit.

“Oh, I don’t know if it’s the ten warm beers that I drank but this Coke tastes perfect!”

Sander snorts shyly, walking around the island to meet Robbe again.

“It’s really good, you’re right. And I didn’t drink ten beers, so…”

“How are you feeling? Not even a tiny bit tipsy?”

Sander purrs, and thankfully the music is still too loud for Robbe to hear it. Robbe is clearly a little bit past the tipsy stage. They’ve spent enough hours glued together for Sander to notice how Robbe’s sunburned cheeks are even redder now, probably warm too. He’s tanned, and it looks like he came straight from a road trip. His eyes are tired since earlier but they’re getting heavy now, Robbe blinks slowly, his a little too dry lips keep being moisturized by his tongue, making them shiny - and tempting - and he’s clearly a little more loose, more talkative, and definitely more flirty.

“I feel my eyes getting tired but that might very well be that it's almost four in the morning and I’m still awake, a good car ride from home, and my bed, listening to this shitty music melt my brain. The beers might be helping with the brain melting part.”

Robbe follows his whole speech carefully, and his smiles, and laughs at the end, and Sander has to drink more of his soda to keep his mouth and brain and hands busy with something.

“Yeah, I get what you mean.”

“How much longer until your friends decide to leave?” Sander lifts his eyebrows to the crowd, even though he doesn't know to whom he’s pointing. Robbe looks around, and doesn’t find his familiar faces. So he looks back at Sander, a little worried.

“They’re the type to clean the bowls, to drink the last beers…Do you want to leave?”

Yes, Sander very much would like to leave, but with Robbe, even if just to walk him somewhere else.

“Yeah, it would be nice to breathe some fresh air…”

“I can walk you home.” Robbe decides, finishing his soda in one long gulp so they can leave already. Sander is surprised with his decision to leave his friends behind.

“Are you sure? And your friends?”

Robbe rolls his eyes, leaving his empty can inside an empty cup.

“I’m pretty sure they left already or found someone…” Robbe lifts his eyebrows, and Sander nods his head, pressing his lips together. Sander would be lying if he said the thought didn’t cross his mind. But his plan of a New Year’s Eve fun sounds too short for Robbe. Sander would like to have him until the next New Year’s Eve and the next, and the next.

“Do you live around here?”

Robbe nods his head in that way he does where his loose curls sort of bounce around his face.

“Five minutes walk, maybe ten if we walk slowly.”

Sander smiles, finishing his soda too, leaving it close to Robbe’s.

“I would give us half an hour.”

Robbe smiles at him, and they just stand there, looking at each other with no shame for a moment.

“That sounds good.”

“Yeah.”

Sander nods his head to the front door, and starts walking slowly so Robbe will follow. He leads them through the way too sweaty crowd, a bunch of people are with no shame making out in the middle of other strangers talking. It’s late so Sander gets the lack of shame or interest to move somewhere more private.

He opens the front door and stands in the way, letting Robbe walk right next to him, looking and laughing because well, Sander could have held the door open without standing in the way against it, but where would the fun be in there?

“Left or right?”

Robbe points left. “Left, always.”

Sander laughs, walking next to him.

“And your friends? You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I’ll text them later, but they knew I was leaving at some point…”

“They did? How?”

Sander thinks about how to say it because they've been talking for at least 6 hours now. Robbe is tipsy and clearly not very familiar with flirting so openly - maybe because Sander is a guy - but he’s not that naive. He’s been flirting right back.

“Because they dragged me to the party. I just broke up with my girlfriend and they wanted to find me a rebound.”

“Oh.”

He looks through the corner of his eyes, and Robbe is actually bothered by what he said, his whole attitude, body language starts to close off, get more serious, and Sander panics, thinking he was way too forward or left too much space for misunderstanding. He lets Robbe think for a minute, for the silence to get less weird.

“But that was their plan, not mine, clearly.”

Sander looks at Robbe more purposely and he looks at Sander, confused, but happily surprised, maybe. It makes Sander wonder, based on how open his facial expressions are, if that’s because of the drinks or if that’s just how Robbe is.

“I think you lost me.”

Robbe stops, and looks back, and Sander assumes they’re at his place so he stops too, turning to stand in front of Robbe.

“They wanted me to just get it out of my system with a random stranger so I could move on but then I found you, and wanted to spend the rest of the night with you, talking or having sex, didn’t really matter which one.”

Sander snorts, hoping Robbe doesn’t get offended by his bluntness. He could give him more details but it feels like a lot of information at once already.

“Wow.” Robbe finally exhales his laughter, looking down for half a second, meeting Sander’s eyes again right after. “Okay, now I get it.”

“Still upset at me?” Sander lifts his eyebrows, hoping he can make the puppy eyes as effectively as Robbe does.

“No. I wasn’t mad at you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Sander.”

“Okay, good.” He takes a big step forward, entering Robbe’s personal space but giving him a second to push Sander back if that’s what he feels like doing.

He doesn’t so Sander finally reaches, putting his hand on the back of Robbe’s neck, massaging it quietly, noticing how Robbe relaxes and closes his eyes for a second, and Sander smiles, finally kissing him.

It’s the best kiss he ever had. It’s slow, and sexy, a little too bitter because of all the beers, but Robbe melts into him, and Sander holds him tighter, putting his other hand on Robbe’s ribs to pull him closer and he could do this for the rest of his life.

Robbe is the one to stop the kiss, moaning softly as Sander sucks his bottom lip as he moves his head slightly up.

They smile at each other and Robbe moves his head, brushing their noses together before he takes a tiny step back.

“You wanna come in?”

Sander looks at him, no need to think about it but it’s just that Robbe is so beautiful, blushing again, with shiny, mesmerizing lips, messy hair and so relaxed that Sander wants to sleep holding him in his arms.

“Yeah, of course. Is that okay?”

Robbe nods his head, looking at Sander’s lips, and then back to his eyes.

“I just...never done this before.”

“This…?” Sander lifts his eyebrows even though he’s pretty sure he knows what Robbe is talking about but he doesn’t want to assume out loud.

“Sex.”

“...With anyone?”

Robbe shakes his head to the sides. Sander can’t help but want to go inside even more.

“And you want it to be with me?”

Robbe laughs shyly. “Yes, and we don’t need to make it more awkward now.”

“Okay! Okay…” Sander pulls him closer for a quick peck on his lips and they finally move inside holding hands.

[lemontwst]

crossing the line. ❤️ ace x m!reader

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: in which ace runs his mouth and then gets his cheeks clapped by an mc with immense big dick energy.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: ace trappola x m!reader

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.2k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: non-con to dub-con, revenge/hate sex, mentions of voyeurism, public sex, enemies to lovers, mc has magical devices he definitely should not be having, grim is not present in this particular scene. 

“You don’t even know about the Great Seven?—”

His malicious voice bounces around your skull like thunder, drowning out the rest of the world like you've suddenly plunged into deep, cold water.

“Are you that ignorant?"

Tranquil rage licks at your insides, your stomach twists with nausea and your hands twitch with the impulse to wrap around his neck.

“Maybe you should go back to kindergarden before thinking of coming to this school.”

Don't punch him. You dig half-moons in your palms, inhaling a deep, shaky breath. Your muscles tighten from the strain of holding yourself back, from resisting the urge to punch this idiot's face in and drag him across the boulevard by the hair. Your heart thump thump thumps against your ribcage like it wants to jump out of you. Don't punch him.

"Aww I'm sorry, did I offend you?" The redhead's features morph into an expression of cheap remorse. His hands clutch his chest like he's so heartbroken, then the joke is over and that obnoxious smirk curves his lips once more, "—just kidding. Why don't you go cry about it to your mom? You won't last long in this place if you can’t stand up for yourself.”

Your reach into your pocket and your fingers brush against one of the slips of paper Crowley gave you before you parted. Paralyzers, he called them. They look pretty useless to you — just a bunch of small, fragile talismans cut from some yellowed paper, but according to Crowley, these things can subdue weaker magical beings for a limited amount of time. The headmaster gave them to you predicting that you would end up in less than savory situations, being the only ordinary human in a school full of wizards, shapeshifters and God knows what else.

“The immobilizing effect will last for about ten minutes,” Crowley had mused as he handed you the talismans, “Do try to escape the situation before the time runs out, would you? It would reflect poorly on our beloved school if one of our students were to die, after all.”

Escape. You snort, your eyes slowly appraising the other student who is still mouthing off. This place still doesn’t know you’re not one to go down without a fight. You’d much rather cling to the monster that’s tearing you apart, digging your teeth in its flesh even as you bleed out all over the pavement than turn tail and run. The carrion on your skin is a hard enough shield, the rot that stains your soul a powerful balm that turns the sting of your wounds into repugnant adrenaline.

"...Anyways, unlike you I actually have classes to attend to," The redhead throws you one last condescending smirk before turning around and giving you a half-assed wave, "Have fun cleaning the halls, janito—"

The words catch in his throat as you stick the Paralyzer to his vulnerable back, grabbing him by the hair and throwing him not so gently behind the obnoxiously large statues and out of the open street. 

The student rolls a few times across the grassy side of the road, almost crashing into the flowerbeds that fence the statues off, then he finally lands on his back, coughing and spluttering more from the shock of the sudden fall than actual pain.

He quickly tries to hoist himself up, but his arms and legs feel boneless and he falls back down, eyes wide and panicked as a jolt of electricity runs him from head to toe. He tries to get up again, but it seems like the more he struggles, the weaker he becomes. The talisman saps every ounce of his energy in a matter of seconds, leaving him unable to do anything more than lay there, eyes to the sky as he tries to catch his breath.

"What—the fuck—did you do?!" He snaps, his crimson eyes filling with hate when you slowly enter his field of vision, blocking out the sunlight and hovering over him with disinterest written all over your handsome face.

His temples throb with the strain of his thoughts traveling at supersonic speed, his head hurts like he just slammed it against a wall, and the cold look in your eyes makes his stomach twist into tight knots in what he stubbornly decides to be fear—even as his skin starts to heat up like he's been sunburnt the longer you look down at him.

"Oh, you know…" You casually put one foot on his stomach and lean in, ignoring the long, pained gasp that scratches his throat raw, "Just thought I'd teach a cockroach in my path a little lesson. I was thinking of letting you go quietly, but all your whining really got on my fucking nerves." You step off of him and he twitches and coughs, trying and failing to curl into himself for some sort of comfort.

"...Ha...so what, are you just gonna beat me up?" He says, smirking through the pain as if he's used to it. You don't doubt it—his mouth has probably gotten him in trouble plenty of times before—but simply hitting him would be so boring. You kneel between his legs, spreading them apart with ease and his smirk falls, "Hey—what are you doing, you idiot?! Get off me!" You ignore him as he tries to squirm out of your grasp.

"Since you act like a little bitch..." You take his shoes off without untying them and throw them somewhere behind you, then you unbuckle his pants and do the same thing, slightly annoyed with the way he whines and struggles—as if he has any chance of wrestling you off when his body is about as responsive as jello, "I'm going to fuck you like one."

The redhead's breath stutters and he stops moving, looking at you like you just escaped the nearest psych ward, but the sudden flash of crimson that lights up his face and the subtle way his eyes fall to your crotch before quickly focusing back on your face betray just a smudge of confused desire—he's probably seen something like this in porn and he’s relieving it in his mind.

"W-we're in public, you bastard! Are—are you insane?! Get away from—" His brain slams on the brakes and his head empties like it's hyperspace.

A shocked gasp leaves his lips when you bring your index finger to the front of his boxers, lazily drawing a circle over the growing hardness beneath. His stomach clenches, ripples of pleasure seemingly falling from where you're touching him to pool in his belly like molten lava.

His breathing picks up the pace, loud and humid in his ears as his eyes stay on your hand like you've hypnotized him, "...H-hey, s-stop that—this isn't fucking funny—"

"Says you." You hum, stopping your slow circling on his now visible erection to finger the elastic band of his boxers. The intimate touch makes his muscles clench and his head fils with air, "I find the way you're sprawled on the grass with no pants on absolutely hilarious." He makes a sound between a shriek and a gasp when your fingers grab his cock and pull it out of his underwear.

This isn't happening. He looks at his cock standing out in the open with a horrified look on his face.

It's not happening—it's a dream—the thought of other students walking the boulevard and seeing him there, behind the statue of the Queen of Hearts, his erection out and his body unable to move makes bile pool in his mouth—and his dick throb, but he doesn’t have time to consider his fucked up reaction because you suddenly blow on his glans and his entire body spasms, his head hits the grass and his eyes find the clear, blue sky once again. He briefly registers the feeling of his underwear sliding off his legs. This isn't happening.

You ignore his useless protests and start unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it off his shoulders roughly but not quite taking it off -- the contrast of his pale, heaving chest and his flushed face as he lies helpless in front of you with his dick out almost makes you forget how irritated you are with him. Almost. But just because he’s cute doesn’t mean you’re not going to make him pay for daring to talk to you like you’re a piece of garbage on the side of the road.

You envelop his hard shaft with your hand and start pumping, slowly, letting him feel the soft texture of your palm and ignoring his pleas for you to wait. With every stroke his sensitivity increases, the thought of being caught flies away as if someone just blew in his skull and the redhead can only claw at the ground and pull at the grass with jerking fingers as a sweet voice starts spilling out of him.

It's just broken gasps at first, confused, scared and excited in equal measure—and then the world loses focus and it's full blown moans, little sighs that grow in volume the more you manhandle him. His shaft and your fingers become slick with precum and the movements become easier and smoother, the tingles in his crotch fly up his spine and he has to remind himself that this is wrong to keep himself from bucking up into your hand.

Stubborn as he is, he almost succeeds in resisting you. But you know just how to break him, allowing yourself a few seconds to listen to his cute moans while you wet your fingers, saliva dripping down your wrist as you methodically suck on the appendages as if they were the hard, leaking dick in your hand.

When you decide your fingers are wet enough, you bring them down to his ass and spread his cheeks to find that tight hole no one has ever touched before.

His entire body jolts when you start circling it, the sensation completely knew and so unexpected that he momentarily comes back to reality. "Wait—not there!" He tries to raise his head but his willpower leaves him when your middle finger draws a deep semi-circle around the rim.

It feels so fucking weird, he jerks his head this and that way as he tries to focus on the hand on his cock and the finger prodding at his hole at the same time. It's tingly and intense and he doesn't want it, his hot asshole parts under your push, welcoming you in a cavern of velvet, and the gasp that leaves him is the loudest one yet. 

"Relax, you little moron." You stretch him carefully, briefly wondering if he's going to come from your handjob before you even have the time to reach his prostate. He's so fucking tight, unused, pure and yet vulgar as he moans and twitches under your skilled hands.

You insert another finger in and his voice turns high-pitched, then you brush against that little button inside his ass—barely, just the ghost of a touch—and he falls off the edge, convulsing like he's been electrocuted and cumming all over himself.

His semen lands on his chest and jacket and as he slowly comes down from cloud nine, eyes glazed and drool on his chin, he briefly wonders how the fuck he's going to go back to his dorm with cum on his uniform. Then he feels you crawl on top of him and that thought too seems to dissolve into thin air.

No one can blame him for being unable to think, unable to act and, somewhere in the deepest recess of his mind, unwilling to move when you start stroking his sensitive dick again, your hair tickling his chin. He can feel how warm your body is and how nice you smell now that you're so close. If you weren't such a fucking demon it would almost feel nice.

"What's your name?" You exhale next to his ear and he shivers, feeling sick to his stomach when he realizes it's because he wants your lips on him.

"A-Ace…" He mutters, tilting his head away from you as much as he can. The white expanse of his neck is right there and you place a few slow, open-mouthed kisses on his vulnerable skin. Ace's heart does a fucking pirouette, little sparks of pleasure run down his abdomen and he lets out a soft moan, one he wishes he could stuff back in his mouth as soon as he hears it.

He feels the sudden urge to cling to you as he lets you kiss him everywhere. He wonders how it would feel to have your mouth draw a line from his collarbones to his stomach before you take his cock in your mouth and the thought alone makes his entire body tremble with need, little gasps leaving him as you lick the curve of his jaw and then blow on it.

"Ace." You growl his name against his skin and the vibration threatens to destroy the rickety dam that keeps his sanity in place. You're doing something unforgivable to him, fuck, Ace knows it and he hates you for it, but the way you say his name makes him so fucking glad to be born, glad to be lying in the grass like a slut with his pants discarded somewhere and your hand slowly stroking his cock.

"Fuck—don't say it like t-that…" He practically wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut as he focuses on the scorching waves of pleasure that pulse through his abdomen when you chuckle against his skin. This feels so fucking nice, one of his hands reaches down to grab your wrist while you continue to stroke him and he absentmindedly caresses your hand as you pump his cock.

He curses loudly as he takes in the hard curve of your knuckles and the wetness of your fingers. Your touch is different than what he's used to, rough but with a regular rhythm that pushes him closer and closer to his orgasm with every flick of your hand. You lazily nibble at his jaw and he suddenly finds himself overrun by the universally irresistible urge to come. Fuck, he's gonna come so hard in a hand that's not his own—

"S-so—sensitive—fuck, gonna cum all over your fingers—" His other hand grabs your shoulder in a way that almost feels too romantic given the situation, but Ace doesn't give a damn. The only thing that matters right now is your hand jacking him off and the trail of stars that dances behind his eyelids as you shatter his galaxy.

So close—so close—his moans become loud and shameless as he bucks up into you, ignoring how useless his body still feels because right now he really fucking needs to come again. 

The muscles in his abdomen tighten, hot white pleasure flashes in front of his eyes and Ace is so fucking ready when he arches his back, but instead of feeling relief, a tidal wave of frustration and disappointment crashes into his electrified body and his loud voice trails off in a pained whine as you suddenly take your hand off his dick, denying him the sweet mercy of orgasmic bliss.

The disparity between what he’s feeling and what he expected to feel is so vast it takes him a minute to realize what happened, the dam in his head breaks and he’s left gasping and sobbing and twitching, hands flying and grasping at the grass beneath him as he struggles to catch his breath.

"—What the fuck?!" He basically screams, looking at you with teary eyes and a face that screams betrayal, "W-why did you s-stop?! I told you I was close!" His chest heaves and he looks almost possessed when his own hand reaches for his abused, throbbing cock, fully intent on finishing the job one way or another.

You stop him before his fingertips even reach the shaft, meeting no resistance when you pin his hand back against the grass.

Ace glares at you but it's feeble and pathetic, the last remains of his rejection completely snuffed out by the shock of being denied an orgasm for the first time in his life. He doesn't look proud and hateful anymore; he’s now just a brat naked from the waist down, this close to crying because he didn’t get fucked the way he wanted.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you wanted me to stop? Did you change your mind, Ace?” The voice that whispered his name almost lovingly in his ears now drips with venom, almost as if you’re imitating the way he talked to you just a handful of minutes earlier.

Ace flinches, his heart sinks and he looks fucking crushed as he takes in your cold expression. You’re not going to stop, are you—? Not now that he actually wants you to touch him—?

“No...that’s not—I didn’t—” He splutters, flushing up to his ears when he realizes he doesn’t even know what he wants to say. Do you want him to beg? Because at this point Ace doesn’t really care enough to even object to that. He just wants you back on top of him. He wants to feel your warmth and have your scent fill his head while you bring him to his release again.

“Dont...be like that...come on,” He groans, letting his head fall to the ground. His dick hurts. His back hurts. Fuck, everything hurts, even his heart for some fucking reason. He doesn't like it when you look at him like you hate him. If anything he should be the one looking at you like that, not the other way around.

"Y-you want me to beg? Is that it?" Ace scoffs and weakly spreads his legs, leaving his cum-stained self complete exposed to your scrutiny. He has the decency to look embarrassed, but when his glazed eyes slowly go from your face to the tent in your pants, what you see in them is not disdain or shame, but pure, unbridled lust.

"You'll beg without me having to ask for it." Ace follows your hand as it goes to your belt, and when you unbuckle it, the soft, erotic click makes his body tremble and his heart flutter.

It's not like he wants to see it—his eyes stay on your crotch as you slowly pull your pants down, revealing the black underwear beneath.

Are you—are you going to pull it out? Out here where everyone can see?—Ace momentarily forgets that he's had his dick out in public for more than it's considered appropriate in every fucking country across the world. Every one of his thoughts comes to an abrupt halt, like he's suffered a concussion.

Except he hasn't, he's just drooling in his mouth at the thought of your cock.

"You don't get to come again, I told you you're going to be fucked like the little bitch you are." You finally pull your dick out, hissing when the air hits your feverish skin and Ace thinks he’s going to spontaneously combust.

The rush of heat that flares beneath his skin is unlike anything he’s ever felt and his slow mind has trouble comprehending whether he suddenly feels on fire because he can see your erection right in front of him or because of the sound you just made. Both. It’s probably both.

“Is that right…” He probably sounds as dazed as he feels—his breath catches in his throat when you lean down again, hovering over him but not quite touching him, the ghost of your breath on his lips threatening to turn him delirious.

You teasingly drag your wet erection across his stomach and Ace moans, his eyes falling shut when your dicks touch. He grinds up against you without thinking and suddenly his body is weightless and he's on the verge of coming all over himself. It feels like every nerve he has is experiencing its own little earthquake, the sound that leaves your lips makes his mind fall apart at the seams and the only thing he can say is a long, desperate "Fuuuck."

His eyes flutter open and he finds you smirking down at him; the sight is so surprising and so beautiful that Ace’s heart lodges straight in his throat.

"Turn around and raise your ass." You chuckle and he goes redder than his hair, but ultimately doesn't protest, waiting for you to give him some space before complying.

The sleeves of his uniform are completely ruined at his point, wet with dew and mud and grass as he pulls himself up on his elbows and gives you an expectant look from over his shoulder. 

What he doesn't expect is to feel your thick fingers push into him again. He almost falls face first into the dirt as he gasps, waist shaking as he's once again wrecked by the feeling of his rim being teased. 

You stretch him more insistently then before, the saliva and cum on your fingers aiding you in your preparations. You try to avoid his prostate, because Ace is already shaking like a leaf and you know how close he is to his climax, but your redhead seems to have had enough of being edged and insistently grinds back into your fingers until you touch that sweet spot inside him that makes his dick leak precum like a faucet. 

He's still not used to it however, and the shock of such an intense stimulation makes his elbows give out as he falls unceremoniously on his face. But he doesn't seem to care, cheek pressed against the grass and eyes squeezed shut as he experiences having his prostate massaged for the first time.

Fuck, he’s sure his legs are going to give out soon too. If just your fingers feel this good, what’s going to happen when you stick your dick in—? Is he going to lose his mind—? Somewhere along the line he seems to have completely forgotten that he's outside in broad daylight with his ass in the air. But even if someone were to see him getting fucked like a slut, would it really be so bad—?

"Hold on tight, stupid," You take your fingers out and he whines softly, sounding surprisingly disappointed for someone who has never had their ass played with before, "I'm gonna make sure you can never come just from touching yourself ever again."

You line your hard cock against his opening and Ace shivers from both anticipation and fear. You’re so big—is—is this gonna hurt? I mean, after everything you've done to him this should be a walk in the park, right—?

It isn't.

You slowly push your dick inside and Ace's first instinct is to scream.

His mind shatters into oblivion as he takes in the feeling of your thick cock stretching him like he's a fucktoy. But this is still nothing, you haven't done anything yet and he's already broken. You pull your hips back and thrust into him hard, your dick scrapes against his prostate and Ace falls into a state of euphoric delirium.

He was made for this, he thinks. Born with the sole purpose of being your slut, ass up and legs spread as he invites you to plow him harder, to mess up his head until your cock is the only thing he can think about. 

And he doesn't even know your name, Ace realizes as his body bounces back and forth against the grass with the force of your thrusts, his tongue lolls out and he tries his best to match your movements with his exhausted body, his hole squeezing your dick like it doesn't want to ever let go.

"Fuuuck—can we do this like…..every day from no—ah!—now on?!" He'll let you do anything you want if you promise to keep fucking him like he's your girlfriend. On his bed in front of his roommates, in class, on the headmaster's desk, anywhere you want him, Ace will be a good bitch for you.

In response to his nonsense you griiind into him and the explosive pleasure that flashes in front of his vision is almost seismic, devastating like nothing he's ever experienced as he breaks and cries and cums all over the grass, eyes rolling back when you roughly grab his hair and thrust a few more times before painting his insides white with your own release.

You make sure to fill him to the brim and Ace doesn't pull away. Instead he remains obediently glued to your crotch as the feeling of hot semen running down his legs completely obliterates his sanity.

Your nasty temper placated for the time being, you pull out in one swift motion and let his boneless body fall to the ground.

Ace groans and curses you under his breath, then he very slowly rolls onto his back, still dazed by the fact that you just came inside him.

If he thought everything hurt before, now he thinks he might actually need to pay a visit to the nurse's office. The effects of the Paralyzer have worn off by now but he's so fucking tired—he startles out of his drunk reverie when something like a curtain falls on his head. 

Except it's not a curtain, but his pants. He takes them off his face and gives you a weak glare as you adjust your belt.

"Wear a skirt next time," You throw him a smirk over your shoulder and Ace hates the way his heart quivers, "Like a good girl."

You barely have the time to dodge the shoe that comes hurtling towards your head, Ace quickly reaching for the other shoe when you start running back towards the school building.

 "Fuck you!—"

[nohoney]

Do It For Me -3.1

notes: Part 3 of the Us Series from my ao3

characters: Dabi/Touya Todoroki, Keigo Takami/Hawks, Tomura Shigaraki

warnings: 18+, drug use, toxic relationships, polyamory

summary:

As curious as you are, you’ve already been warned by Keigo to not even attempt to ask about it. If Keigo got mad at you for even asking in the first place, no doubt that Touya would be furious at you. And there was no way in hell you were even going to think about investigating this on your own; not only were you not equipped to even do so in the first place, you had a strong gut feeling about this situation.

Keigo had told you before you went to sleep in his bed last night, “I know it might be frustrating for you to not be in the know dove, but trust me when I say that if Touya doesn’t want you to know something, it’s for your own good.”

3.1 ✧ 3.2 ✧ 3.3

Touya tends to keep you out of the loop on certain things, wanting to be as vague as possible sometimes if you do happen to ask. Like when you asked why he bothered attending university, he simply said that it was because his mother wanted him to and that was all that you got out of it. When you tried to probe further, he had snapped at you and left to go have a smoke. At ten months in the relationship, you’ve learned that if he didn’t want to tell you something, there was no way that you could change his mind.

Only Touya tells you what you need to know or not know.

The only thing you’re really curious about is some of his background, mostly about his family and his upbringing. As far as you’ve seen and heard, he’s the oldest of his siblings—two brothers and one sister— and he doesn’t necessarily get along too well with them from what he’s passively mentioned. He seems close with his mom, you’ve heard him talk on the phone with her sometimes, but no mention of his dad. You think it’s safe to assume that his family probably doesn’t know that he deals but you won’t dare ask him, it seems like a sensitive subject.

Speaking of dealing, you slip cash into his pocket while he cooks on the stovetop and pat his backside. Touya just chuckles and nods his head towards his jacket that’s tossed onto the couch. You reach into the inner pocket and pull out a little baggy of half gram of coke, putting it into the inner pocket inside your purse. One of your friends had asked if you could drop off cash to Touya to buy off of him and you could drop it off when you go to class next time you see her. “Yumi says thanks in advance, she says that she got her other connect’s coke the other day but that it’s just not as good as yours.”

“Heh, of course it’s not. Tell her that if she cheats again then I’m going to cut her off.” Touya jokes as he stirs the pot before lowering the gas on the stove and putting the lid on top. He rolls his shoulders briefly and walks away from the kitchen to let the food in the pot simmer for a little bit. “Keep an eye out on the food, I’m going to shower really quick.”

“Sure thing.” You make yourself comfortable on the sofa and just scroll through your social media on your phone, replying to certain messages or sharing posts to friends. Keigo texts you to as if you’re going with Touya to the next house party and that if you’re not, he’s more than happy to keep you company if you want to stay in and wait for Touya to get back. You smile down at his message and just send back a simple ‘we’ll see’ with a smiling emoji. Enough time has passed where you think you should go check on the food, just stirring it to make sure the food doesn’t burn on the bottom of the pot. As you sample your boyfriend’s cooking and add just a little bit more salt to taste, someone knocks on the door.

Touya doesn’t really get visitors aside from you and Keigo so you wonder who could be at his front door.

When you peek your head out through crack as much as the chain will allow, you see a young man dressed in a hoodie with his hands in his pockets. He seems to be as surprised as you are when you answer the door, his lips thinning into a line briefly before asking, “Is Dabi here?”

“Who’s asking?” you’re cautious because you’ve never seen this guy before. He’s got a rather distinct appearance, he seems sickly with his pale skin, messy blue hair and these scary red eyes you’ve never seen on anyone else before.

“Shigaraki.” And he says nothing more.

You have half a mind to lie and say that Touya’s not here but you hear the door to the bathroom open just in time, he walks out in fresh clothes and a towel around his neck. “What are you doing there doll?”

“Uh there’s a guy here, says his name is Shigaraki. He’s looking for you.”

Touya’s eyes narrow at the name before he walks towards you, setting you to the side and undoing the chain on the door. He lets this mysterious man in and shuts the door, the atmosphere suddenly very tense. You shift your weight from one foot to the other and look to Touya expectantly. Whoever the guest is, he only gives you a brief once over before looking to your boyfriend and says, “We need to talk, just the two of us.”

“Well that works out because my girl here was just about to head to the store.” you meet his gaze as Touya turns to look at you. “I know it’s a bitch babe, but the ingredients we want are in that fancy market that’s fifteen minutes away. It shouldn’t take you longer than ten minutes to get everything though. Make sure to stop by and get gas on the way back for the car, put down a twenty and I’ll reimburse you later.”

You’ve been with Touya long enough to know when he’s talking in code. Fifteen and ten, be gone for at least twenty-five minutes, possibly an extra twenty making it forty-five in total. So you play along and collect your sweater and purse, making sure you have everything before skedaddling out the door, no goodbye kiss unfortunately. You’re pretty much kicked out for the time being and you don’t even know why. “I guess I might as well drop off the half…”

Forty-five minutes pass but Touya hasn’t given you the okay yet to return. You think that maybe you need to wait an extra while longer so you wait outside his complex just a bit longer with your phone in your hand and anticipating his text. When it gets close to an hour since you’ve left, you decide to ask first if it’s okay that you return. Your phone pings immediately with a response.

Go stay with Keigo.

And that’s all you get, no explanation or even a time when you can see him again.

So you stay with Keigo at his place, exactly like he told you to and provides a distraction for the time being. The two of you cook together, laughing over the dinner you made as he tells you about a funny joke he heard earlier, cleaning up after yourselves when the meal is all finished, and then washing up together in his bathroom. He’s such a tease as he massages body wash all over you, pressing into a sensitive spot in your back or his fingers ghosting over your clit. He works you up to the point that you beg to be fucked, whining when you’re only given a teasing smile and just a nibble to your ear. “Please Keigo, no more teasing!”

He could be such a cheeky bastard though, ignoring your pouting but still has the audacity to touch you all over. “You know the acoustics in the bathroom always sound better, don’t you think?”

“Keigo!” you whine, your arms coming up and looping just right behind his neck. His cock is getting hard, you can feel it against your leg, so you don’t know why he’s not bothering to just take you right then and there. “You’re being a dick!”

“You know why acoustics are better in the bathroom (Name)?” he asks as his hands skim over your back and ignores your whines. “I’m asking you a question.”

“How am I suppose to know?”

Keigo chuckles at you and pushes you to lean against the back wall of the shower. He takes your wrists and holds them together in one hand, pushing them above your head so that your entirely exposed to him. He grabs his cock in his free hand and teases the head of it against your click, relishing your yelp when he slaps it against your sensitive pearl. “Just a little fun fact for you, acoustics in the shower sound better because you’re surrounded by hard, smooth surfaces that bounce back to you. So while the sounds are bouncing around, your voice sounds more pronounced, it takes longer to reach your ears and sounds more enriched. Isn’t that so interesting?”

You whine petulantly at him, asking why he’s telling you this in the first place.

“I guess what I’m saying is songbird,” Keigo releases your hands and quickly turns you around to make you brace against the wall, jutting your ass out towards him with his hands set firmly on your hips. “sing me a pretty song, yeah?”

Your voice echoes as Keigo rails you on his cock and your wet skin slapping against each other sounding particularly lewd. The shower is still running with warm water and steam clouds the bathroom but you feel even warmer as you push back to meet Keigo’s thrusts. One of his hands slide up your spine, warm fingers reaching up to tangle in your hair and pull your head back. You’re choked up, voice strangling to come out with your head angled back and your fingers trying to find purchase on something to hold onto.

He’s merciless, he won’t let you catch a break. Keigo pulls you back against him, one arm around your waist to hold you close and the other at your throat. There are heavy breaths in your ear, low growls and a rough command of, “Touch yourself.” Your fingers messily rub your clit, not using any kind of technique because honestly Keigo is fucking your brains out so you are acting on instinct. Breathless whimpers fall out of your lips, barely registering when you feel soft kisses against your temple.

“Fucking cum with me songbird, hit that last note for me huh?” Keigo growls into your ear, just about ready to cum. It’s more than just your cunt that’s getting him off, he loves to hear your voice as he makes a mess of you. He just wants to listen to your voice, it appeals more to his senses during sex more than anything else. Touya gets nudes from you, Keigo gets audio recordings of you moaning. “Say you wanna cum with me, say it.”

“Wanna cum with Kei… pleas’ make me cum…” you slur, your brain fucked out and just letting yourself be used. “Kei, les’ cum together…”

Your bent over as Keigo fucks harshly into your body, lewd praises echoing inside the bathroom as you beautiful cries rip from your throat. You have one hand braced on the wall of the shower and the other on the floor, just holding on for dear life and only able to moan and cry out his name. You’re thankful for him, thankful for his kindness, his patience, and his cock. Your orgasm hits you hard to the point that you see stars in your vision, unable to hold yourself up and dropping your weight. Luckily Keigo’s got you, happy to hold you like the little fucked out rag doll you are as he finished inside you.

The shower still runs and steam still curls in the air as the two of you catch your breath. He’s still hard inside you, thrusting just a few more times to overstimulate himself a little before pulling out. Any cum that leaks out of your pussy is washed away, you want to clench to hold as much inside you as you can.

Keigo towels you off first before drying himself, lending you one of his shirts to wear and tells you to wait on his bed like a good girl.

So you wait like the good girl you are, staring at your phone and waiting to hear back from Touya.

I miss him. You think to yourself and wonder what Touya could possibly be doing. It’s late in the evening now and he hasn’t given you an update about where he is and what he’s doing. A part of you is tempted to just go back to his apartment and wait for him there but you have a feeling that he sent you to Keigo to make you stay put. He trusts Keigo more than anyone else to look after you, to keep you warm and loved when he’s away.

A movie plays on Keigo’s laptop as the two of you are curled on the bed, him being the big spoon and an arm loosely draped over your waist. You sink your cheek into the soft pillow and idly reach a hand up to touch Keigo, giggling a little when the tips of your fingers brush against his chin stubble. He kisses your hand and sets it back in place against your chest, snuggling behind you to continue watching the movie.

A question rings through your mind and you wonder if he can answer it.

“Baby bird?” Keigo looks to you when you reach out and pause the movie. “Did you need a pee break?”

You adjust your position so that you can look up at him. “Who’s Shigaraki?”

His face doesn’t betray anything, keeping it straight and just looking down at you. “How do you know that name?”

“He came by Touya’s place while I was there, he said he had something to talk about with him and then I got sent out.”

Touya must have let Keigo know something, seeing as when you arrived he already had things ready in his apartment for you by the time you arrived. Keigo brushes his thumb idly against your cheek, slowly running the pad of it back and forth on your cheekbone rather lovingly even though his face doesn’t reflect his action. “If Touya’s never mentioned Shigaraki to you after all this time then that means he doesn’t want you to know about him. He has his reasons, alright dove?”

“So you know about Shigaraki?” you ask with a curious tilt to your head. With a confirming nod you can’t help but ask still who exactly he is. “Touya never lets anyone in at his place but that Shigaraki guy was let in, but he called him Dabi so he’s not close to him like that. He looked kinda young, I’ve never seen a guy like him around campus.”

“I’m not telling you anything dove, just let it go.” There’s a hint of a warning behind his tone but you don’t heed it, talking more and asking why you can’t know. “(Name), I’m putting my foot down. Do not ask me or Touya about Shigaraki. Now drop it, do not bring this up again or you’re going to piss me off.”

Keigo’s never spoken to you in that manner so it catches you off guard. He usually speaks with such a casual lilt and is very easy going about anything and everything. It’s something of a shock to you that you almost can’t comprehend it, looking down like a scolded child and mumbling out a quiet ‘okay’. He feels bad instantly having to have to talk to you that way but he had to convey just how much you could not breach this subject. He leans down to kiss your forehead, muttering apologies and bringing you into his arms to hold you tight. “Don’t ask Touya okay, he’ll get upset if you do. C’mon, let’s keep watching the movie.”

Touya contacts you the next morning to ask if you’re still with Keigo, to which you answer yes and ask where he is. He doesn’t give a proper answer and simply tells you that he’ll return early tomorrow morning. “Touya, I didn’t even get to kiss you goodbye yesterday if I had known that you were just going to disappear on me.”

“I’ll kiss you tomorrow when I see you princess, alright? Be good for me.”

He hangs up and you just stare at the lockscreen of your phone for a few seconds before sighing and setting down your phone. Touya wasn’t one for lying, he always told the truth if not at least keep quiet about what he didn't want to talk about, but it was rare when you could get him to admit something he doesn’t want you to know. Sure it’s fine to not have to know everything about your partner but this felt… weird. Somehow it feels worse than the three other girls he still fucks every once in a while when he goes out. The whores he was honest and upfront about, whatever is going on with this Shigaraki is entirely different business.

As curious as you are, you’ve already been warned by Keigo to not even attempt to ask about it. If Keigo got mad at you for even asking in the first place, no doubt that Touya would be furious at you. And there was no way in hell you were even going to think about investigating this on your own; not only were you not equipped to even do so in the first place, you had a strong gut feeling about this situation.

Keigo had told you before you went to sleep in his bed last night, “I know it might be frustrating for you to not be in the know dove, but trust me when I say that if Touya doesn’t want you to know something, it’s for your own good.”

You believed Keigo but it didn’t really provide any comfort to you.

‘I miss you, come back soon’ You text him, it feels stupid seeing as you saw him yesterday but you hadn’t anticipated that you wouldn’t be returning to his apartment when he sent you out. Though to be fair, he probably didn’t expect it either. If there was one thing that had been made apparent while analyzing your boyfriend was his need to know about your whereabouts no matter what and ease his anxiety about who would be around you when you went out without him. Maybe that’s just how he loves you, just unrefined and not quite polished just yet.

Your phone pings a several hours later from Touya. ‘Miss you.’

━━━━✧

All you can do is just wait and sit pretty for him when he gets back.

Keigo drops you off at Touya’s the next day, parting with a lingering kiss before going on his merry way.

When you enter the apartment, you see Touya resting on the sofa along with a small rectangular sized bag on the coffee table. You're curious if it's Touya's, never seeing this kind of bag before and undo the clips and the zipper of the bag and curiously lift the top, an assortment of drugs siting inside. One of the few first you recognize is Adderall, ecstasy, cocaine, and shrooms. The pills are separated in those orange prescription bottles and the rest are in little plastic baggies. You’ve never been around whenever Touya gets a refresh of his inventory, always making you wait a day or two before he allows you back into his place. Wherever he hides it in his apartment, you’ve never once stumbled on it. Yet here it is, just out in the open and you just had to be curious and look inside. You close up the bag and fasten the clips on it before sitting on the edge of the sofa, careful to not disturb Touya.

You wonder if that Shigaraki guy is his supplier, if not at least connected to his supplier.

“If it isn’t my pretty doll…”

You jump at the sound of Touya’s voice, quickly looking behind you and catching his sleepy gaze and a lazy smile. He’s been sleepy around you plenty of times and you know what he’s like when he’s high, but there’s something different about his expression and movements this time that unsettles you. The only thing that comes to mind is that he might have tried something new and that scares you. “Baby? Are you on something?”

Touya gives you a slow nod in answer, his hand reaching out and weakly grabbing your bicep. He gives a light tug and makes you lean over towards him, soft coos of ‘my baby’, ‘pretty doll’ and ‘princess’ pass through his lips. When you ask what he’s on, he just slowly shakes his head and laughs lowly. “Can’t tell you baby, it’s not for you… Shit like this isn’t for my good girl.”

“Oh but it’s okay for you?” you ask with mild irritation. You take his hand and press your cheek into his palm, delicately holding his wrist and looking down at him with crinkled brows. “Well whatever you’re on, do I have to get the Narcan?”

“My smart doll looking out for me… you remember where it is?”

“Oh my god, Touya please don’t tell me that I actually have to be on the lookout for you in case you overdose. I don’t think that’s something I can handle.” You’re anxious now as you go into his bedroom and retrieve the Narcan from his bedside table, keeping it on hand when you go back to sit on the couch with him. Touya’s tolerance for narcotics is pretty high but on some level you still fear that something might happen. “Do I have to call Keigo?”

He answers with a lazy shake of his head, his hand idly rubbing your thigh as you look down worriedly at him. Glancing over to the case and then at you, he asks, “You look inside it?”

You’re not a bad liar by any means but Touya is a master of smelling bullshit, so there’s no point in trying to lie to lie to him in the first place even if he is high at the moment. “Yeah…”

“Anything in there you want to try?” His fingers drum against the denim jeans you wear before lifting to play with the belt loop. “If you want to try anything new, what’s the rule doll?”

“Never from someone else, only from you.”

As if you needed a reminder.

That rule was established shortly after deciding to sleep with Keigo. You were invited to a kickback with a small group of your friends who also brought some of their friends, you were all just sitting around the kitchen island and drinking, at least that’s what you thought that was all you were going to do. You got a little drunk that night and one of your girlfriends presented a sugar cube to you held carefully in between her thumb and forefinger. You didn’t think anything of it in your drunken state of mind, you were complaining earlier that night that you wanted something sweet so you thought she was just satisfying your sugar craving. After about half an hour, your vision began to distort, different colors suddenly washing over the crowd of people you were hanging out with and you asked what was happening.

It turned out that the sugar cube you ate was laced with LSD.

Your friends had tried to calm you down, telling you that you’ll ruin your come up but it was too late. “You gave me acid! I’m not ready to try acid, you should have told me!” The timeline of that night was fuzzy and you can’t remember if it was you or someone else who called Touya and Keigo, but needless to say they were angry upon arrival when they found you distraught in a corner inside the house. Even during your bad trip, you could taste Touya’s fury when he tried to find out who had given you LSD without telling you while Keigo was trying to soothe you. You were promptly taken away from the party and the boys watched over you for the remainder of your trip, staying up with you with the help of four grams of coke to help keep them alert for a little over twelve hours while keeping you quarantined inside Touya’s place.

Touya had declared not too long after that you were not allowed to take any kind of narcotic from anyone else but him from now on. When you asked the boys what had happened at the party when they showed up, both of them remained silent. The ones from the kickback who were trip sitting, they refused to answer your questions to fill in the blank of what happened that night. You suspect that Touya might have threatened them into silence but there was no definitive proof, you don’t want to recall the memory because all you remember was the anxiety, the strange distortions of shapes your mind could never produce while sober, and at one point telling Touya that you could ‘hear how hungry his couch was’.

Keigo tells you that they should have micro dosed you instead by dissolving the sugar cube into a glass of water and just had you take a sip because that’s how he had it his first time. Touya just straight up does not like it at all, he hated his first and only trip on acid. Either way you would not be ready to try it again at all anytime soon.

Never once have you had to watch over Touya while he’s high, he’s usually the one doing the watching seeing as he had a better handle on his tolerance versus you who’s experience was just a step up from novice. But you keep a careful eye on him as he drifts back to sleep, keeping a glass of water and the Narcan nearby, running your hand through his hair. The roots are growing out, white contrasting with the black hair dye you’re used to helping him do. Touya’s been talking recently about washing out the black for a while just to give himself a break. You’ve seen a few photos of Touya with his natural hair color, courtesy of Keigo, and he’s just as handsome no matter what.

You stare at him while he sleeps, a pillow propped up behind his head and his hands resting on his stomach. He still hasn’t kissed you like he promised he would yesterday on the phone, so you lean down to fulfill it for him. No response, like you expected, but at least you got to do it.

He’s sober a few hours later, though still just a bit sluggish from whatever it was he took and the bag is put away in the room but you don’t know where. Whatever food was made the day before yesterday, you see it in a container inside the fridge and the pot still sitting in the dish wrack. At least whatever dinner you were supposed to have together the other day wasn’t put to waste and Touya went through the trouble of making sure you could have it later on. So you warm up a portion of it in a small pot and just stir, barely moving as Touya comes up and hugs you from behind. His arms come around your waist and presses right up against you. “You’re not going to ask?”

“Ask about what?” you continue to stir the food in the little pot.

“About what happened the other day?” Touya brings his hands to cup just underneath your breasts and slightly sways in place, your body following along with his movements. “Not curious at all?”

You shrug your shoulders, thinking of what Keigo said the other day and his usual approach to things in life. You channel him inside you and just act cool, casual, and whatever about it. “I figured you would have explained yourself by now if you wanted me to know. You’re usually so straight forward about everything.”

Touya makes you tilt your head up to look at him with a slight nod of approval. “Good girl.”

God the way your heart flutters when he gives you praise over the simplest things… even over something suspicious like this.

You do feel the need to ask, “Is that person someone I’ll be seeing more of?”

“If things were one hundred percent in my control then you would have never caught a glimpse of him in the first place. But to answer your question, you shouldn’t be, he doesn’t ever drop in like that. He wasn’t interested in you when he came by thankfully.”

You should know better than to ask because you’ll know it’ll make Touya seethe but you do anyway, “Well what would you have done if he looked at me a certain way? Set him on fire?”

“To finish him off after a slow torture, yeah.” Touya spits through gritted teeth and reaches over you to turn off the gas to the stovetop. “The shit I’d do to some guys for fucking staring too long at you…”

You could relate, you’ve had some vivid fantasies sometimes about the side whores and just straight up eliminating them in the most violent way possible. Not just stupid hair pulling or petty name calling, you imagined inflicting blunt trauma in certain fatal areas or having them tied up in the middle of the road while you sat in the driver’s seat of Touya’s car, revving the engine and just speed down to get to them as soon as possible.

Touya probably had more imagination for what he’d do to anyone he thought was a threat but you’re not going to open that door. So you turn around in his arms and rest one hand at the nape of his neck, your fingers massaging gently and you assure him, “Hey relax, I’m yours Touya.”

“Yeah… you’re mine.” Touya sighs in what seems like relief as he leans down to hug you. “You’re my doll, no one else’s.”

You won’t bring up Keigo and the fact that you’re being shared with him, it feels like Touya needs the reassurance right now that it really is just the two of you. In these moments you realize that his insecurities are thinly unveiled, not quite put out there but just peeking out the corner and hoping to not be noticed. So you say it again and he tells you how much he likes when you say his name, that when it falls out of your pretty lips that he can’t help but want you to scream it until your voice is raw and hoarse. “Only you can call me that doll, it’s all yours.”

Not Dabi, haven’t used that name in months.

“Touya, Touya…” you whisper in between breathless kisses, gasping as you’re pulled away from the kitchen to the bedroom. Guess that food will go cold once again…

Touya’s body isn’t in top condition yet to have sex but he pulls off your bottoms when he pushes you to lie back on the bed. There have been night’s a plenty where either you serviced Touya strictly and vice versa for you, though most of the time you just loved to fuck. Fuck when you’re happy, upset, a little drunk, or bored and all that; there’s nothing like feeling close to Touya when he’s inside of you. He’s unlike any other partner you’ve had before, no one is as hypnotizing as him, you’ve never been drawn in to anyone else like Touya before.

And he’s as entranced by you, if not more.

Kisses pressed into the inside of your thighs along with playful nips and teasing licks on your sensitive skin. He knows exactly where to touch you where you’ll practically beg for him and the right words to use to make you desperate because Touya’s not afraid to hold out on you if he wants to. He likes to see you frustrated and worked up, if he wants to pull out to edge you for the rest of the night, he’ll do so and ignore your pretty cries and desperate pleas that you’ll do anything for him as long as you can cum on his cock. Most of the time he gives in because, well, he loves your pussy and he loves fucking you. But fuck when Touya decides to be sadistic, the role always suits him quite well.

Not tonight though, no delicious sadistic edging or degradation. Touya knows that he made you worry the day before so he wants to make it up to you in best way he knows how to. He wishes that he could use his dick properly right now to fuck you but his body is still trying to process the shit he took earlier so it’ll just have to be his mouth and hands for the moment to get you off.

It’s not hard to get you to cum, there have been instances where as soon as his dick sheathes into your pussy you gush on the spot. There are days like that where it’s just that easy and other days where you need it angled just the right way inside you or the right words to fire off your imagination. “Fucking love it when you squirm like this, so goddamn cute.” Touya growls as he drags the pads of his fingers against your G-spot before flicking his tongue on your clit.

Those words help but it’s not quite what will set you off.

“Say more.”

So he does, finding the right combination of words, adjectives, proper nouns, and verbs to stimulate your mind while stimulating your pussy. It’s vivid and a pretty picture, more than just a pretty picture because he describes actual memories of the steamiest and sordid encounters. The first time you fucked on the fourth floor of the library way in the very back, the day you skipped your afternoon lectures to day drink at a brewery and just made out in his car, skinny dipping at night at the local pool, and one time you sucked his cock while he was on the headset and playing games online with Keigo.

You’re just about there, heavy breaths and panting exiting from your body as your toes curl and your fingers twist the sheets in your hand.

Touya could say more about how much he loves to fuck you seven ways to Sunday, all the kinks he still hasn’t tried with you yet and is excited to try when you’re ready, that he wants you to cum all over his fucking face and lick your sensitive cunt until you can’t take it anymore. You’ve heard it before, some more than others, but it’s not those words that make you come undone before him tonight. It’s not the images of past passionate encounters and the anticipation of getting fucked by Touya that do make you cum all over his face like he wanted.

He spouts that shit frequently but tonight he says something different, something that in the back of your mind that you were probably aware of but he never voiced out loud. When the words leave his mouth and are spoken out to you, it’s a new type of intimacy and sentiment that elevates you and makes you realize how deep you’re in this with him, how deep he is in you… emotionally.

“I’d do fucking anything for you.”

Bullet one.

You choke up, it’s not that you want to cry because how moving those words were but because the revolver is loaded and he just fired the first bullet in the chamber that will undoubtedly lead you to an intense orgasm.

“Never had this with anyone else.”

Bullet two.

“I don’t want this with anyone else, believe me.”

Bullet three.

“I don’t fucking deserve you but I’ll do what it takes to keep you with me.”

Bullet four.

“It’s scares me doll but I…”

Bullet five… will he say it?

“I’d do it all for you.”

Bullet six.

The chamber is empty and the barrel of the gun wisps smoke, your back is arched as your whole body convulses with an earth shattering orgasm that you’re literally left shaking from how powerful it was. And Touya continues to speak those words from bullet one, “I’d do fucking anything for you.”

And he is, Keigo unveiled that, the whores are dwindling not by your request but by Touya’s conscious choice. He’s choosing you, slowly but surely, there will only be you if the cards are dealt right. No one has been in his bed the way you’re invited in, hasn’t held anyone else the way he does with you, and more than likely has not been this vulnerable with someone else either. He’s terrible at feelings, still gets his dick wet sometimes when he sells to his side whores, and he withholds certain secrets to keep you safe.

Should I say it?

You thought he’d say it, those deeper feelings that Keigo had accidentally unveiled, you thought he’d say ‘I love you’ tonight but this is a step closer to it. You won’t make him say it, you won’t beg for it, you’ll sit pretty and patient because Touya will come around. He may have his secrets but he releases the ones to you that are worth knowing, and you’ll get it so long as you’re good for him.

Don’t ask about the whores, it’s okay be jealous but don’t ask, don’t get into another argument. Don’t ask about where the drugs are from and if that Shigaraki guy is linked to it, he would have told you by now if he wanted you to know. Don’t ask to see another man because him and Keigo should be enough, they won’t treat you as good the way they are with you. Do whatever Touya wants of you and he’ll do it all for you in return.

[aureumjeon]

tiptoed his way (m) || kth

pairing; taehyung x reader. genre; roommate!au; smut; fluff; angst. warnings; breaking and entering, unintended voyeurism, female masturbation, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex via doggy style, choking, tae suffers from MSS(Monster Schlong Syndrome lol), that’s about it.  word count; 6.4K (unedited im sorry :()

summary; ➜ Taehyung found himself locked out of your shared home and there were only two options to successfully get inside. (1) Wake you up from your sleep and face the wrath that’ll follow, (2) Think like a burglar and enter through your window. (Un)fortunately for him, he picks the latter.

taglist; @bella-victoria002  @chaitaewithkookies @saddiesan  @wehadnochoice  @knjhe @thoughtsfromfaroffplaces @livorna @taetaeobsessed @erisann  @thoughtsfromfaroffplaces @wickizer

a/n: the old gif doesnt work i dunno what i did wrong :(

“I’ll be out ‘til late, y/n! Don’t wait up for me.” Taehyung hollered while lacing his worn out white high-cut converse in the entryway. Hoping his voice would reach the end of the hallway where you were currently cooped in in your room. 

 “Alright! Stay safe!” Not bothering to leave your room, you answered back. Voice echoing through and bouncing off the dry walls. After waiting a few minutes, you heard the door slam shut with a thud. You cautiously tiptoed your way to the direction of your door, slightly opening the solid block of wood and peeking through the narrow crack you made. With no Taehyung in sight, you pumped your fist in the air and cheered victoriously. You finally have the house to yourself. You beamed with delight scurrying yourself over to the kitchen to make yourself a hot steaming bowl of instant ramen. 

 Taehyung and Jungkook had been your room mates since you can remember. It was freshman year of college, and you were looking for a cheap place to stay with the money you saved up working as a part-time student during your last year of highschool. A friend had introduced you to Jungkook, saying they needed one more person to split the bill with, broke college students need to support each other. At first you were hesitant, a girl living with two boys in a shared house wasn’t you initial plan but as the days go by since you first moved it, you got to know Taehyung and Jungkook a little more. Your friendship with them had gotten greater, the three of you were inseverable and you treasured them to bits! 

 Although in the four years you’ve been boarding together, every now and then they can really get on your nerves; letting the dirty dishes stack up at the sink until molds would flourish on the left over food; leaving the empty carton of milk in the fridge just as you’re planning to enjoy it with cereal or maybe a pack of Oreos; bags of chips and boxes of pizza scattered on all parts of the living room floor whenever they’d have movie night on Fridays with Jimin and Hoseok; and last but not least, the thing that they always do that grinds your gears the most, their dirty laundry in every corner, nook, and cranny of the house. Stinky socks, sweaty shirts, crusty jeans and even used underwear, you name it!

One time you had guests over; all girls might you add, studying for a group project in chemistry. Oh poor, sweet Yeri… Her unsullied innocence mercilessly corrupted by Jungkook’s disgusting underwear that had a suspicious dried up patch of white something on the crotch area of the small fabric. Yeri almost fainted when she pulled out the article of clothing from the kitchen caddy, flinging it across the room to where the other girls were. You scolded Jungkook the same day, advising him to keep all his stuff where it needed to be kept and on top of that to apologize to the poor girl he scarred for life. Which he did, and that’s the story of how Jungkook and Yeri’s relationship began. Who knew, right?

 Taehyung was like Jungkook at first, but somehow he decided to stay under your radar as best as he could. Once you lectured him on something he’s done wrong inside the quarters of your home, he’d make it a point to engrave it on the back of his head. He has his fuck ups every now and then, but nothing too consequential. There was one time though, and you wish you could forget, that he brought a girl home which wasn’t against the house rules. Jungkook had brought Yeri numerous times and you, yourself, had your fair share of men visiting the house, specifically your room. It was s well established etiquette to keep the ruckus down since you we’re sharing this living space between the three of you. But during that critical time, which you’ve spoken to Taehyung and Jungkook beforehand never lacking to remind them on multiple occasions throughout that day. Telling them to please keep the noise to a minimum because you'll be revising for for a major exam that was equivalent to forty percent of your total grade. Somehow, Taehyung managed to forget your simple and completely doable request. With the paper thin walls between you and the absence of soundproofing, you were able to get every moan, groan and mewl that came from Taehyung’s rooms adjacent to yours. That bastard is so dead was the sole thing on your mind right now and not the words inscribed in the textbook that you’ve read over for the tenth time that night. The morning after that horrendous night of not getting anything done, you waited irksomely in the common room for taehyung and his date to emerge from his chambers. 

 “Y/n, y-you’re up early.” He gulped, taking in your appearance. Your gaze was piercing especially with the huge dark bags under your eyes. “I’ll take Minju ho--”

 “I’m sure she knows here way back.” You cut him off with a bark in your tone, “Can’t you, Minju?” Your focus was now directed at her and she was quivering under your constant scrutiny.“Y-yes,” She clutched on her designer handbag bowed nervously before fleeing the place like a prey encountering it’s predator.

 “I asked you for one thing, Taehyung, one thing.” You lowered your head and massaged your aching temples with your fingers, placating your exasperation towards the boy who was placed in the hot seat. “You knew I was studying tonight, Tae.” The timbre of your voice wasn’t sickeningly livid anymore. From spiking up to a hundred degrees in the last two minutes, it dropped down to a negative ten. “This test is worth forty percent of my grade, I told you that. This is the first time I requested you to do something for me...”  You shut your eyes close and drew out a long sigh before standing up and intending to head back to your room. “If I fail this test, I want to let you know it’s on you, Tae.”  His features were extremely devastated and disheartened, not because of the things you just said but because of how he had forgotten all about it. 

 You inconspicuously peered back at him and the look on his face says it all. A helpless puppy abandoned by its human, that’s what he resembled most at this moment. Big glassy eyes, a wet nose and pouty lips. Okay, that was kind of a mean thing to say, you thought. But you never failed to remind him, always opening up and squeezing in the topic during the mundane conversations you shared together. After one last disappointed sigh, you looked up the clock, 6:55 am. “Anyway, I still have three more hours before the test. I’ll be in my room.” You turned your back on him and proceeded to take a few steps forward before saying one last thing to him, “Please, please, please. Don’t bother me.”  You were on your way back down the hall, nothing will stop you from cramming seven chapters of lesson into your brain in less than three hours in one sitting.

 “Sorry, Y/n.”

 Sorry ain't gonna cut it, chief.

 Its as if Taehyung was able to read your mind, “ I’ll- I’ll be on bathroom duty. For two, no, four weeks. Yeah, yeah. One month of bathroom duty, Y/n. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to forget.”

 You glanced over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of Taehyung with his hands clasped together, his facial expression pleading for forgiveness. You knew he was really sorry. Why? Because nobody liked bathroom duty, not even you.

 “That seems fair to you, kook?” You spontaneously asked, making Taehyung scan the living room area. Glass started clattering in the kitchen and your doe-eyed bunny-boy of a roommate came hopping in. Taehyung was seeking compassion from his long-time comrade. Maybe shortening his time on bathroom duties or lending him a helping hand at least. Bros before hoes, right? “For the record.” Jungkook started, taking a sip from the cold banana milk bottle in his hand. “You kept me up, too. And I have football practice at eight.”  He shrugged his shoulders casually before hiding back in his man cave. “Have fun cleaning, Tae.” 

 Your chiding was for everyone’s best interest, may this incident serve as a lesson of respecting other people who also lives in this household. Although there was one thing you were still unsure about. After that episode, Taehyung has never set foot in the premises with a woman draped around his arm again. You hoped you did not terminate his hopes of getting a love life.

 In conclusion, they’re just a bunch of stupid college boys wanting to survive this hell hole, what do you expect? So, having the house to yourself was a once in a blue moon moment you’d never take for granted. 

++

It was two in the morning, and Taehyung was stupidly perched at the doorstep patting his pockets for what seemed like the tenth time in the last ten minutes searching for his keys. "Shit."  He grumbled under his breath, taking out his phone from his back pocket and calling up Jungkook's number. After the third try, he finally answered the call.

"H-hey, what's up? I love you and all that shit but why are you calling at two in the fucking morning?" The voice is the other line was dry and scratchy. 

"Ah," Taehyung felt apologetic for waking up the Jungkook but he absolutely needed help, "Sorry for bothering you, Kook. Do you happen to know where the spare key is? Left my copy in my room before I went out and now I'm locked out of the house," He laughed embarrassingly, attempting to check his pockets one more time before calling it quits, wishing his keys would magically turn up in one of them.

"Taehyung…" The line suddenly went silent, it was a good fifteen seconds before Jungkook went on speaking,"Didn't I tell you that I'm holding onto the spare key to have it duplicated since my I lost my copy?"

There it was again, complete and utter silence. If it wasn't for irregular breathing coming from the other line, Jungkook would've guessed Taehyung had dropped the call already.

"Just wake up y/n, I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Jungkook suggested, that was probably the best route to take. 

"No bro," Taehyung's tone was unnaturally dark and empty.

"Can I ask why?"

"L-Last time I locked myself out and woke up y/n," he choked on his series of words, recalling the traumatic event that occurred in the past. "She made me wait a whole hour before opening the door. While I was waiting out in the cold, y/n cooked bacon and pancakes at midnight just to spite me. The smell of the food made my stomach flip and growl. When she finally let me in, she ate it all by herself while looking me straight in the eye."

Jungkook on the other line laughed uproariously at Taehyung's untold story, "Remind me not to get on Y/n's bad side. But in all seriousness, how are you planning to get inside the house?" He queried the boy who was stuck in an unfortunate predicament."I don't get back til' Sunday. And it's only Friday."

Taehyung's eyes lit up like those light bulbs in cartoons when the characters gets a genius idea. "Is your room the one without the safety locks on the window?"

"One, no. My windows have safety locks. Y/n's window is the one without it. And two, that's a really bad Idea, Tae."

"What's a bad idea, babe?" Taehyung indistinctly overhears a hushed voice in the background. His conversation with Jungkook probably woke up Yeri too. "Oh, Taehyung's planning to enter through y/n window to get into the house." Jungkook made sure that taehyung was hearing what Yeri had to say, since she's been friends with y/n just as long as them. Her giggles were so innocent, akin to a baby but the words she said were the exact opposite. "That is a stupid idea, unless Taehyung wants to be hit on the head with a metal baseball bat and bleed to death." 

"Yeri said that that's a stupid idea unless you--"

"I heard what she said. And I won't even make a sound! I'll tiptoe my way through her window and out of her room in a flash! That way I'll be in the house and won't have to wake up y/n! I see this as an absolute win." Taehyung broadcasted triumphantly like he had discovered the map to the lost City of Atlantis. 

Yeri snatched the phone from her boyfriend's hand and lectured Taehyung y/n style. "Tae, this isn't the time to be quoting the Incredible Hulk when you're the one who's gonna be beaten to a pulp when y/n wakes up and mistakes you for a burglar. Just wake up y/n and ask her to open up the door for you. It can't be that bad, you'd live a longer life that way. Face the consequences of being a pee-brain."

"Nope," It seemed like Taehyung had made up his mind, and when Taehyung makes up his mind, there's no point in stopping him.

"Ahhh, tell your friend good luck. I'm going back to sleep." Yeri gave back the phone to her boyfriend. "You have our regards. If you don't die, call me back in the morning." A loud yawn can be heard from Jungkook's end as he hangs up.

And that's Taehyung's go signal.

++

He stealthily made his way round the perimeter of the house to the side where your room was located "Bingo." He mused as he spotted your window, slightly left ajar. He strategically maneuvered his way across the flower bed embedded on the ground, calculating his steps accurately not wanting to step on your precious roses and daffodils. He knows he can't lie to you, if asked who trampled on your bloom, he'd rat himself out in a blink of an eye. He'd like to enjoy a long flourishing life. Grow old, get married and possibly have kids and grandkids. 

Not like what he's about to commit will spare his life either way.

 Even with the lack of light and the gauzy material of the curtain, his eyes could make up your vague figure on the bed, tossing and shifting your legs about. Must be some crazy dream you're having, he thought. Though he can't get a clear view of you, he's certain you were there.

 He sucked in a deep breath and slowly pushed the unlocked window wider just enough so that he can slither his body inside, dragging the curtain along with it. He prayed to the heavens above that the hinges doesn't make a sound, not even a tiny squeak or his head will be the one hanging from the valances.

 With his hands securely clasped on the window sill, he utilized his upper body strength to propel himself up until his knees were secured on the narrow wooden surface. "Phew" he shakily exhaled, switching from his current kneeling position to a crouching one, gaining more balance for his following steps. 

 Before fully entering your room now that he had obtained a better view, he decided to take a proper look at your charming unconscious face. Wait, scratch that, that didn’t come out right. What he meant to conclude was… 

When Jungkook first introduced you to him as their new flatmate, he couldn’t help but be blown away. He was thunderstruck when he was graced by your overwhelming presence. Soft silky hair that he’d like to get bury his face in, letting the scent of your shampoo take over his senses; Round bright eyes that somehow carried the countless stars and galaxies, he’d willingly surrender himself just to get lost in them. A lovely button nose that scrunched up when you smiled and introduced yourself for the first time. “I’m Y/n, nice to finally meet you Taehyung.” he remembered clearly, god, how can he forget. Your soft-spoken voice perfectly fitted your delicate face. It was love at first sight, what else could it be? He fell for you hook, line and sinker. 

 He covertly watched over you, not in the stalker-ish way, of course. Whenever you’re lounging around in your favorite pajamas or simply tidying up the house, he’d inevitably find a small smile creep up on his lips. Even just knowing that you’re inside the house when he comes home from the university by the way your favourite music was blaring from your room made him happy. He learned along the way that you were really introverted, spending most of your weekends at home reading your favourite novels  and choosing to withdraw yourself from the generic college scene. Opting for a movie night date with your friends rather than partying at some musty frat house. Moreover, you didn’t strike up any conversation with him or Jungkook unless it was about the house or if it was that important to talk about. Unbeknownst to you, all the things you detested like unwashed dishes or misplaced dirty laundry, he did it on purpose just to get the attention he craved from you. Sometimes he felt guilty at the way he acted whenever you were around, a pout or two on your upset face.

 But he came to the point that he was tired of hiding and playing safe behind that thin line called “Friendship.”If he wasn’t gonna man-up and take action, nothing’s gonna change. So on your twentieth birthday, that’s when he decided he wanted to confess his love for you, hoping that the unrequited becomes requited. He bought a cake and decorated the whole house with a banner, balloons and streamers. He even paid Jungkook fifty dollars to keep his mouth shut about it. 

 What happened after was far from his or Jungkook's expectations. You came home from a date. A date which none of them knew about but here you were, wide eyed and jubilant to see the simple surprise party your dear roommates took the time to prepare for you. You introduced the boy standing next to you as your boyfriend. "Boyfriend" that word stung like a bitch. 

 It was then that he decided to put an end to this one-sided pinning that has been going on for quite some time now that hasn't bloomed into anything, not even a tiny sprout. If the stars were aligning and the universe was really on his side, he would have been your boyfriend by the end of the day, not some guy named Lucas. 

 Every other night he'd return with a girl to his room for nothing more than a quick fuck, never meeting with them for a second time. He thought it was something that would dull the agonizing throb in his chest, it worked for the most part. The bodily pleasure those women brought him made him forget momentarily about everything he's ever felt for you. He thought it was only a matter of time until all the feelings he'd kept would dissipate into thin air. 

 Minju, he recalled. A girl who was just as perfect as you in his eyes, well almost. With the thought of taking Minju home and having her all to himself as a priority in his mind, he got carried away and overlooked one critical thing you asked of him which was on top of that a principal house rule the three of you agreed on. "Always keep the noise to a minimum."

 He knew he fucked up the moment he spots you sitting on the couch glaring at him as he and Minju walked out of his room. He saw the look of disappointment etched on your face at how he had let you down and recognized how bad he fucked up. He thought that you’d never forgive him and end up hating him for the rest of his life, but you always kept proving him wrong. A familiar box was atop the center island with a pink sticky note attached to it. 

"I'm sorry I got mad at you, Tae. It was probably the stress talking. Btw, I passed aced the exam! Hehe. <3 y/n.”

That was when he realized he truly did not deserve you. 

++

His profound daydreaming was put to a halt when he heard a hushed moan originate from your direction. His jaw almost unhinged at how low and wide it was hanging from his face at the sight he has failed to notice prior to entering your room. A convoluted expression was apparent on your face, with your brows knitted together, and eyes shut tight, upper teeth frustratingly nibbling at your bottom lip. Your left hand hidden under the sheer fabric of your shirt, kneading at your mound lavishly while the fingers on your other hand were tirelessly circling around the glistening flesh between you spread legs. You weren’t sleeping, you were masturbating! 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Gotta get out. Gotta get out. Gotta get-- 

 His whole life flashed before his eyes as he witnessed the mason jar you used as a flower pot unexpectedly gets knocked over by his rogue foot, emanating in a clangorous noise as it hit the seat of your metal chair tucked under your desk. There were numerous circumstances that he wished he could get out of certain situations unscathed, which as luck would have it he did. This one? Not so much as your instincts urged you to direct your attention to where the abrupt sound came from. He saw your bewildered eyes staring at his squatting figure by your window.

 Taehyung quickly slammed his palms over his face concealing his eyes while blindly steering his body farther into your room, knocking over your other stuff in the process. As his feet finally met solid ground, it was now time to plead for his life. “Y/n! Shit! I-I can e-explain. I l-left my keys! A-and I didn't want to wake you up. I didn't mean seeing that!" He heard the sound of his rapid heart beat resonate in his ears, ringing so loudly that he couldn't even hear himself think.

 You found his flustered stuttering adorable and endearing. You weren't angry and knew he was telling the truth. Taehyung, no matter how brazen and badly behaved he was, has not ever lied to you. You can take his word for this one but a little teasing hasn't killed anyone. “Never perceived you as the peeping type, Tae."

 "I swear, I'm not!" His cheeks started burning red, the scorching heat of embarrassment crawling up to his ears and down his neck.

 You didn't answer him right away, and all he could make up with his vision temporarily impaired was the shuffling sound of your bedding and the indistinct footsteps walking towards him. "Well since you're here, might as well help your roommate out." You whispered suggestively in his ear, and he felt his jeans grow a little tighter by the crotch.

You pressed your body against his until the corner of your desk was painfully digging into his back. "What do you say, Tae?"

 "I-I don't think this is right." He respired weakly, his knees were starting to buckle at the figurative weight weighing down on his shoulders with palms still stuck to his eyes.

 "Wanna know what I think." You purred salaciously, the tip of your pointer finger lightly tracing over the skin of his clavicle. "I don't think this is a question of what's right and wrong," Your hand started to head south, stopping precisely at his sternum, your fingers drawing small figure eights over it. "I'm single, your single."You further proved your claim, hand once again dropping lower. Taehyung wasn't much of a gym rat like Jungkook or Jimin so he didn't have any abs. But you still appreciated his body nonetheless, especially paired with his remarkably attractive face. "I see this as a question of want and don't want. And judging from this," without warning, you cupped the hard-on he was sporting. Waves of electricity surged through his blood vessel, every cell in his body had doubled its working pace. "You want this as much as I do." Slowly, you palmed him through his jeans, fingers molding the curve of his clothed dick. His heart rate spiked and breathing got more labored with your words and actions.

He wanted to see you. He wanted to remove his hand from his face and see how the moonlight shining through your window illuminated your appearance, enhancing your elegant features tenfold but he was terrified that this will lead to something that will eventually ruin your friendship.

 "Taehyung..." You whimpered, starting to feel impatient. "Say something. Tell me what you want. Tell me to stop, please just say something." 

 "I-I," Fuck it, he thought. He detached his hands from his eyes and encased it around your petite torso, finally giving in to the treacherous temptation that is you. "I want you, y/n." He dipped his face in the curve of your neck, filling himself  up with the sweet scent of you. "I've wanted you for the longest time, y/n." His voice was guttural and strained, he'd never thought the time of him finally confessing to you would come. It required him every tendril of his being to finally come clean. An abandoned door that was once locked has instantly been pushed open, and his desire for you has never been more ardent.

"I want you too, Tae."

++

Moments later you've found yourselves entangled within each other's embrace, caught in a sweltering and heart racing make out session. Every brush of lips and prod of tongue was burning of lust and passion. The way your fingers intertwined with his and filling its spaces perfectly like the final piece of an unfinished puzzle. It felt so natural, the way the rise and fall of your breathing and the tempo of your pulses fell in sync. It felt like something that should've been done ages ago but was hindered by something unforeseen.

 As he hovered above your frame, you couldn't help but be drawn in the boundless sea of his deep hazel eyes. Wisp of his curled lashes resting prettily on his eyelids, the tip of his pointed nose dusted a shade of baby pink and lips pursed into a gentle smile. He observed you with hooded eyes as you absentmindedly stared at his face. You couldn't comprehend how a mere human can bear this much beauty and elegance in his mortal body, even the gods would seethe in jealousy at his splendor.

 "T-tae. I want to feel your dick down my throat." You professed bashfully, marvelling at his beauty can wait. Right now there was one thing you fervently wish for, him and his entirety. 

 Your bluntness was always one of his favourite traits of yours. "I'm all yours." He replied, placing an affectionate kiss on your lips. 

 "Stand at the edge of the bed." You instructed, going on all fours and crawling your way to the same spot. "C'mon!" 

 Taehyung with arched brows headed to where you wanted him, planting his feet firmly on the carpeted floor. "Okay, now what?"

 "I've always wanted to try like this." You pressed on, lying on your back with your head almost hanging off the edge of the bed, slightly propping it up with a small pillow. Taehyung was caught off guard with your new position, “Y/n, what are you doing?” He queried with an arch of his brows.

 “I’m ready to take your dick.” You seemed determined, sweeping your loosened hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ears. “Saw this in porn before and I’ve been itching to try it out.

 You just kept pulling out tricks from your sleeve, Taehyung never imagined you to be the type who watches porn. “You watch porn?” He incredulously questioned eyes going wide that hinted inquisitiveness.

 “Oh please, I am a human being. Stop looking at me like I’m some saint. I can watch adult videos whenever I want to.” 

 “Fair enough,” He acknowledged while unbuckling his belt, revealing the stiff bulge tucked in his boxer. He tugged the garterized hem of his underwear down and allowed his member to spring free.

 You were genuinely astounded with his impressive size and girth, tip red and already leaking pre-cum. “From all the years we’ve been living together, I kinda expected you were big, but not this big. Didn’t know you were suffering from MSS.” 

 “MSS?” he eyed you outlandishly, having no idea what you were talking about.

 “Monster Schlong Syndrome.” You answered as you tried suppressing the mischievous smile forcing its way onto your lips. 

 “Shut up, Y/n.” Taehyung’s cheeks grew rosier at your compliment about his dick, but he still preferred being humble about his size even when he was with other girls.

 “Make me,” You provoked him, opening your mouth fully and sticking out your tongue. Feeling rather wolfish to have him in your mouth.

 “Are you sure about this?” He queried you one last time, making sure you were a hundred percent okay with this. “I’m the one beginning to feel uncomfortable with your position.”

 “I’m fine, Tae. I want this.” 

 He couldn’t help stroking himself while taking in the image of you sprawled on the bed eyes totally blown-out. Begging and lusting over his cock. Taehyung gently tapped his length on your cheek,causing a smirk to form on your lips. “Stopped teasing,” You wailed vexingly, growing eager by the second. You tossed your head back even further while opening your mouth much wider, giving Taehyung a greater angle.

 “You ready, baby?” His already deep voice dropped an octave lower, a sultry and sickeningly honeyed tone slathered all over his words. You crossed your legs together feeling the steamy heat pool between them as you nod fervently. 

 Unhurriedly, Taehyung pushed the tip of his cock past your lips. The warmth and wetness of your mouth elicited a satisfied groan from him. He pushed even further down your throat, sheathing himself completely and noticing how tight the space has gotten as he descends. “Fuck, baby. Your mouth feels so good,” he euphorically moaned seeing how your pretty mouth is stretched by his thick cock.

You blissfully purred at his praise, and the vibrations of your throat around his member sent a chill down his spine. “I-I’ll start moving, okay.” He choked on his word, his senses brimming over with the buzz of pleasure. At a leisurely pace, he began gliding his dick in and out of your hot cavern, hearing lewd squelching sounds  with every push. “Shit,” He rasped when you hollow your cheeks around him. “Your mouth is the best, baby.” He quickened the speed of his thrusts, savouring the constricted hold you’ve got on him. Tears started to pool at the corners of your eyes as your mouth was bombarded with the repetitive jabbing motion. You’ve never felt this full before, the way he has you gorged put you in a state of pure ecstasy.

 Taehyung shifted his veiny hand to caress your face, wiping away the wetness from your corners of your eyes. With his balls slapping right into your face, you failed to capture his pupils dilate and the concupiscent glint in his dark orbs. His hand found its way at the base of your neck, favouring the tug of the skin, muscles and bones outlined beneath the surface. His slender, bony fingers spread across the expanses of your neck, petting the strained muscle domestically. His digits started to curl around the base, the blunt of his fingernails digging into your skin and you felt the restriction of air affect your lungs.

Taehyung knew you were enjoying this as much as he was even with you gagging and choking on his dick. He exerted more pressure on your jugular, and you felt your body sink further into the mattress. He thwarted his hips into you once more, deeper than before as his wanton howls reverberated inside your room. Before he could blow his load in your mouth, he stopped himself and pulled out his swollen cock coated with your spit.

 You opened your eyes and griped at the sudden sensation of barrenness, "W-why'd you stop?" You felt light headed, your body eventually recognized the lack of oxygen you underwent. Your chest hurriedly heaved up and down as you were gasping for air, trying to catch your breath.

 "This is my first time fucking you, the only place I'll be cumming in right now is your pussy." Taehyung wickedly grinned, looping his arms behind your neck and knees and carried you bridal style. He walked over the side and carefully lowered you on the bed, head snuggly resting on the pillow leaned on the headboard. He made his way back to the foot of the bed, taking a seat directly in front of your bare core. "Since I interrupted you earlier," his hands began stroking you calf, tiny goosebumps springing up from his touch. "Let me make it up to you and make you feel better than those little fingers of yours."

 You detected a hint of embarrassment as Taehyung's gaze focuses on you already seeping sex. He began crawling closer to you core, tipping in to pepper kisses on your inner thighs. As his warm breath began rousing over your skin, you couldn't help but clench around nothingness at the level of arousal you were experiencing. "What were you thinking about when you were pleasuring yourself?" He cooed the question out before licking a wet stripe along your moistened slit. His tongue was dancing in his mouth after finally acquiring a taste of your delectable nectar. "I-I was thinking about you, Tae." You answered weakly, the pad of his thumb now circling your sensitive nub. He hummed in approval at you words, his tongue was the one promptly to devote its undivided attention to you bundle of nerves. "What was I doing then?"

 You released a long exhale when you felt Taehyung slip on of his slender fingers inside your hole. "I-I thought about how you'd fuck me with your huge cock," You admitted, shutting your eyes as he twirls his finger inside you. He inserted another digit, and it got you tossing your head back in fervor. "How you'd make me cum so hard.”Your eyes reeled back at the back of your head as another finger slips into you with such ease. 

 “You’re soaking wet, y/n.” he was prideful of how you’ve become putty under his ministrations, “And all for me.” He sloped down once more and flicked your clit with his wet muscles at an excruciating pace. You started feeling yourself clench around his digits, “W-wait.” You intervened, not wanting to release just yet. “I want to cum with you.” 

 He devilishly grinned from ear to ear and flipped your body over, your knees and palm bearing the weight of your exhausted body. “Wanna hit you from the back so bad.”

 You lowered your torso and arched your back inwards, excessively sticking your ass up on full display. Taehyung smeared the accumulated pre-cum on the tip of his cock all over his length, painting it with the lubricating substance. He aligned himself with your entrance and gingerly drove his hips forward until he bottomed out. “Fuck, y/n. You’re cunt’s even tighter than your pretty mouth.” the interior walls of your vagina squeezed at his member, accommodating his length incomparably. “Your pussy was made for me, y/n. Best pussy I’ve ever had.”

 As much as you fancied him to rant about how amazing your pussy was, you wished he’d just shut up and pound you into oblivion and put an end to the tormenting ache bubbling inside you. “Move.” You sought, pushing your rear end against him hard and coaxing him to ultimately move.

 His knuckles were turning white at how tight he’s gripping onto the curve of your hips, nails engraving small crescent-shaped marks on your skin. Without warning, he launched the onslaught of the brute ramming of his dick into you. Each thrust he bore were insanely crisp and accurate, striking your sweet spot with every jab. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your heavy breathes were the only tunes filling the silent space of your room. Taehyung pulled out his length almost completely, appreciating how coated and soaked it was with your juices, awakening another entire level of his vehement lust for you. He slammed himself back into your tight slit, clenching his buttocks and rutting his pelvis at an inhuman speed.

 “I’m so close, Taehyung.” You wailed sinfully with a high-pitched strain to your voice, aware at how every muscle in your body is tensing up. 

 “Me too, baby.” He unexpectedly towed you by your hair until your back collided with his chest. His hand located your neck yet again, wrapping his digits around it and cutting your intake of air. You swear that at the end of this, your neck would be sore, purple and bruised because of how robust he retains his grip on you. At this point, his movements began getting sloppier and imprecise, suggesting he was at last getting to his most sought-after high. His idle hand shakily made its way to your almost forgotten clit, ruthlessly rubbing at it with the pad of his fore and middle finger continuously until you were convulsing around his cock and milking him down  to the last drop. Both of your body collapsed on your bed, utterly breathless.

 “Wow.” Taehyung managed to breath out. 

 “Yeah, wow.” You repeat, steadying your breathing. “What happens now?” You awkwardly asked, staring at the blank ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in your room. 

 “Wanna go on a date?” His voice was filled with reluctance, the thrumming in his chest never calming down. Now wasn't the perfect time to ask you that kind of question. So he braced himself as he waited for your answer.

 You turned your head in his direction and looked at how the light from the now open window magically outlined his enchanting profile. “You’re way out of order but I’d love too.” 

++

Taehyung's obnoxious ringtone Disturbed the silence of your sleep.

"Your phone is ringing." You grumbled, t

"Yo, Tae, glad to hear you're still alive. Got into the house yet?"

"Yeah," He paused, looking at you. "Got into y/n pants as well."

[hazbincalifornia]

Prey

Chapter 26: Hunting is fun, right?

Warnings: Mpreg, canon-typical violence.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

“Why are you wearing a coat?” Moxxie raised an eyebrow as he lowered his binoculars, and Blitzo growled from low in his throat, scrubbing at his eyes.

“Because I’m cold? Seems pretty obvious to me, Moxx.” His teeth chattering together like wind-up monkeys agreed.

“It’s seventy-five degrees out. I checked the weather here before we left to be sure it wasn’t raining, and I can feel it. It’s warm out here.”

“I said that I’m cold. Can’t a man know his own body?” Blitzo tugged the coat tighter around his middle- or at least, as much as he could. The bump had, infuriatingly, nearly outgrown the coat, but that was fine, because it was the one spot on him that wasn’t frozen like a tongue on a metal pole. It was practically boiling, actually, suctioning all the heat out of Blitzo’s body like a leech in a black hole and leaving all extremities shivering in a way reminiscent of poor street orphans. Millie reached over to snap off a square of the chocolate bar that Blitzo was holding, and her eyes widened as she brushed his fingers in the process.

“Aw, Moxxie, he’s right, he is cold! He’s-” She paused, concern gathering like storm clouds. “Really cold, actually. Are you sure you should-”

His fingers tightened around the gun in his free hand. “I’m not going home. I’m not letting this shit bench me, nothing has to change until I can shove the little cretin out and figure out what to do with them, got it?” Blitzo swatted at her hand, and she pulled back with her mouth screwed to the side and lips pursed.

“Hmmph. I’m just saying, I don’t really remember Mama or Daddy going through anything like this. I don’t think it’s a normal imp thing, is all, so you don’t know-”

“I know that if I sit at home with nothing to do, I am going to fucking lose it, so chill, alright?”

“Chill is the last thing you need, apparently,” Moxxie grumbled, and Blitzo smacked him with his tail, getting a little yelp out of the smaller imp before Millie stuck a hand over both of their mouths.

“C’mon,” she muttered, “We need to focus, they’re looking our way.”

Blitzo licked her palm, but she just raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve got four siblings, Blitz, that stopped working on me when I was eight.” Her fingers dug into his cheeks before letting go and he huffed, shuffling on his haunches and stuffing the rest of the chocolate bar in his mouth. Already, his stomach was growling again- stupid kid was being even more high-maintenance than usual. For that matter, more everything.

That morning, he’d woken up half-frozen to the bed with blood practically freezing under his skin, his stomach nearly a full inch bigger than it had been the night before with his skin itching like fuck because of it and stretchmarks creeping around the edges to boot. The binge last night must have all gone to plumping the little bastard up or something, because of course it had. (He could still feel where the kid had torn up, but it was manageable now with a handful of painkillers, at least.)

Fortunately, he had a coat in the back of his closet at work from when they’d gone to the arctic to knock off a scientist who’d stolen their target’s research, and he’d gotten it a size too big just in case he’d needed to hide one of the bulky weapons inside.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t realized that until after the client meeting.

____

“So he just left me there after I checked his gun and it went off.” The client, a deer-form sinner, had raised an eyebrow, camo jacket rustling as he folded his arms with a twitch of his ear. “Hey, how come your little lackey’s in a suit but you aren’t? It’s all unprofessional and shit. You look like a marshmallow.”

Blitzo growled, tugging his (not stretchy enough) shirt down. The light pink fabric bounced back up anyway. Traitor.

“And you ended up in Hell. We all make bad choices sometimes. Just tell me where the fucking gig is, alright?”

____

Blitzo shook his head as the leaves rustled- he needed to focus. He could not become a liability, even though leaving the warmth of Hell for the more temperate heat of Earth chilled his bones better than any iced coffee ever could.

“Gimme the rundown, Moxx. How’s it looking?”

“There’s four of them around the fire. One woman, three men, all in camouflage clothing. All wearing hunting caps for some reason too, even though this weather’s far too warm for it for most humans, I would think. Perhaps it’s some kind of pack-bonding thing.” Moxxie adjusted the binoculars a bit. “The target is the short one with the red hair.”

“G-got it,” Blitzo said, rubbing his arms. If he any hair on them, it'd be standing up. Fire sounded good. Fire sounded really good. “When reddie breaks off from the bunch, we nab them. The client said he doesn’t care if the others get hurt in the process as long as we weren't charging extra for it, he wanted the party all back together anyway.”

“Right,” Millie said with a nod. “As soon as-”

“They’re all moving out at once,” Moxxie hissed, cutting her off. “They were talking but I couldn’t hear what, the target’s being left to guard the fire.”

“It’s almost too easy,” Blitzo said, twirling the gun in his hand and before splitting off and creeping through the underbrush, each footstep sinking slightly into the damp, muddy ground with a squelch as Moxxie hissed something after him that he couldn’t quite hear. The foliage was thick enough here that he lost sight of the fire for a moment, but the cozy, flickering warmth drew him like a snake to a flute, yellow sparks creating dancing shadows off the trees- but with no long shadows to reflect except for his own. “Wait, the hell did he go?” The firepit was still crackling merrily away, but the target had vanished. He raised an eyebrow, turning back to their hiding spot. “C’mon, where is he? You go blind in the last two minutes, Moxxie?”

“He was just here- he must have stepped out to go to the bathroom,�� Moxxie whisper-hissed. “Be careful, they’re-”

“C’mon, Moxxie, I’m not an invalid.” Blitzo stuck his hand in the already-opened bag of marshmallows and stuffed one in his mouth. The pops and snarls of the fire were filling the aches of his bones with soothing jelly, and his legs wobbled a little as he swallowed down the gooey snack. “I’ll go find ‘em, just… just a second…”

“Sir…”

“Relax, it takes more than ten seconds to piss.” Blitzo reached for the marshmallows again, fingers already in the bag when-

“Blitz!” Millie called out just as pain exploded through the back of his hand, and a screech bubbled up from deep in his chest as he automatically smacked his other hand at his wrist, brain taking precious milliseconds to process whatever the fuck had just happened.

There was a knife. Impaled. On his hand. Black blood spurted out in waves over his skin and sleeve, and he yanked the fingers close to his body as shrieking erupted from the bushes.

“Ha! Thought I heard somethin’! Those horns are gonna look real pretty mounted on my wall!” Red hair fell over a tanned and freckled face, and Blitzo’s fingers twitched, nerves going haywire as his other hand fumbled for something, anything, he’d dropped the fucking gun when he’d grabbed at his wrist, fuck, shit- there! His fingers clasped a small bottle and he chucked it full force at the human. It shattered, foul-smelling yellow liquid splattering his face as he sputtered and spat. “What the fuck?” The human fumbled for his weapon to retaliate, but-

BLAM!

-That was going to be rather difficult, considering his head was now in about twenty pieces, several of which splattered Blitzo's face and slid down before he brushed them off, licking at his cheeks.

“Blitz!” Millie called, hurrying down. “Are you okay?”

“I’m-”

“Put your h-hands up!”

Blitzo whirled around, automatically dropping into a hunched crouch with his non-injured arm wrapped around his stomach. He hissed as the other humans from the hunting party of doom scrambled back to the firepit. God, his hand hurt.

“Get the fuck out,” he growled in a lower timbre than he’d ever heard himself drop to, and the one in the front froze, leading the woman to shove her way upwards.

“You killed Todd!”

A bang and she collapsed to her knees, clutching at her chest before another shot went straight through her skull. A cawing crow took off from a nearby tree, rustling the leaves.

Fingers clasped his elbow, and he could smell mint- Moxxie’s mouthwash. “The target’s down, we need to-”

“I wanna rip them to pieces, they got me,” Blitzo growled.

“Millie and I can take care of- eep!” Another shot cracked off above their heads, and Moxxie dragged Blitzo to the side as a huge branch slammed down where they’d been. “You’re in no shape-“

“I’m fine!” Sweat poured down over Blitzo’s eyes, and- were there two of Moxxie all of a sudden? When did he get a twin? He didn't have a twin. Blitzo would have found that out by now.

“No, you aren’t! You’re risking all of us, call Loona so we can clean- gah!” Moxxie kicked at the air furiously as one of the remaining hunters lifted him up like a ragdoll and dragged him away, screaming all the while as he twisted and writhed in their grip. Blitzo saw red. His tail snapped like a whip as he leaped forward and bit furiously at the mound of protesting, shaking meat, and a sharp shock grazed the side of his chest before blood gushed from the human's throat as he tore the jugular out with his teeth. Inside, the kid kicked out, doing their best to distract him, but nothing was going to keep him from-

“Moxx! Blitzo!” The head cracked mere inches from his face as Millie slammed a knife into the neck and snapped the spinal cord, and a gurgling scream cut off before two pairs of hands hauled him back from the fresh corpse. He snapped his teeth, heels digging into the damp ground as he strained forward. He needed to dismember it, he needed to tear it to pieces, he needed to fucking destroy it-

“And stay down, you fucking bastards, don’t fucking touch them-“

“It’s- it’s fine, he didn’t hurt me,” Moxxie said, dragging Blitzo back by the arm. “He maybe bruised my arms at best.”

“They’re dead, Blitzo, we can go home.” Millie agreed, and their combined strength forced Blitzo to take a breath, falling limp.

“…So sloppy, the ones with guns didn’t even get a shot in.”

Moxxie sucked in a breath. “About that…” He pressed his fingers to the side of Blitzo’s pecs, and Blitzo groaned out a ‘fuck’.

“It doesn’t look too bad, it should be fine with some painkillers and a tourniquet,” Millie commented. “The hand is much worse.”

Being reminded of that sent a white-hot flare of pain scurrying up his nerves, and Blitzo hissed. “Riiiiight.”

Millie fired off a text, and by the time Blitzo turned around, the portal had opened in front of them. He took one step before nearly eating dirt, and Millie and Moxxie grasped him under the armpits and hauled him through, the office the most welcome sight he’d ever seen.

“What happened?” Loona asked, fingers tightening around the Grimoire.

“It went badly,” Moxxie grunted. “Get the first aid kit.”

Loona didn’t argue.

________________

Well, he was definitely on too many painkillers to be fully healthy for the kid at this point considering how much it took to be anywhere near effective on him, but he wasn’t bleeding out, his hand wasn’t screaming at him anymore, and his shirt had probably gotten ruined by all the stretching out even before his side started bleeding all over it, so…

Okay, yeah, fuck trying to spin it, this just plain sucked shit-flavored asshole. Millie finished tying off the bandage around his hand as he sat in his chair and Moxxie paced around his office.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Come-” Blitzo coughed. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the chills were creeping back up everywhere the blood wasn’t still rushing to, and he couldn’t help but lean closer to Millie and her precious body heat. “-Come on, getting hurt in the field is just part of the job.”

“Yes, but you’re not thinking clearly anymore, and you’re risking-”

“I am so thinking clearly!” Setting aside the fact that if he blinked too much Moxxie duplicated himself again, but he wasn’t about to tell him that.

Moxxie continued as if he hadn’t spoken, rude little shit. “You’re risking yourself, both of us, and, yes, the baby!”

“Oh, and they’re the one that matters here.” Blitzo rolled his eyes, but Moxxie folded his arms, tail swaying like a pendulum and nails drumming on his bicep.

“I know that your feelings about this are mixed, but I would never forgive myself if you went out there and got both of you killed because you’re a stubborn jackass.”

“He’s right,” Millie added.

“Don’t you dare team up on me,” Blitzo snarled, lead settling in the pit of his stomach as Millie stood up, drying her hands off with the towel borrowed from the bathroom- they were going to have to replace that. It had been white with little galloping horses around the bottom, and they were all so covered in black now that you couldn’t even see them anymore. He knew from experience that imp blood never came out of white fabric no matter how hard you scrubbed.

“We will if we have to- I’d do the same for anybody,” Millie said, balling the towel up and dropping it on the desk. “You lasted a lot longer than most people would, but there’s no shame in taking some time off so you don’t end up killin’ the little one before they even get a chance to see the world.”

“What about me, huh? Don’t I get a say in this? This is my company!” He shoved himself off the chair, but Millie pushed him back down. Her hand burnt where it touched his chest.

“C’mon, Blitzo, you need to be resting- I care about you, alright? Both’a us do.”

“Oh, sure, that's why you're not letting me make my own decisions as a grown-ass man." He narrowed his eyes.

“If we didn’t, we’d just let you go out and get yourself killed by the next target who has a gun,” Moxxie retorted. “I’m not going to let you drag all of us down with you, and I’m not going to keep working out in the field with you if you’re going to be a liability!”

“Are you threatening to quit?” Blitzo tried to get up again, and again Millie pushed him back down- far easier than she should have been able to, but if it was the blood loss or the baby weight was anybody’s guess.

“Of course not- maybe? I don’t know!” Moxxie rubbed his forehead. “I just-”

Millie shifted over to him, squeezing his shoulders. “We get what you mean, honey.” She turned back to Blitzo. “I know you wanna always do your best and work hard for IMP, and I’ve got nothing but praise for that, but-”

“But nothing! I can do this, end of story!”

Millie raised an eyebrow, taking a few steps back towards him and poking Blitzo right where she’d just wrapped the gunshot wound, and he couldn’t hold back a pained whine. “Suuuuure you can.”

“If you insist on still coming to work, just-” Moxxie sucked in a breath. “Just take over Loona’s job. Maybe she can help us, but Millie and I handled things fine when you were gone, we can keep things running.”

“Like hell you can!” Icy hands squeezed at his chest as Millie patted his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do everything alone, Blitzo.”

He smacked her hand away. “Don’t tell me I’m useless, I don’t need your fucking pity-”

“But you do need us,” Millie replied. “We want to help, isn’t that enough? There’s only another month and a half or so until they’ll be here, after all. You've got a lot to get sorted, and it's the least we can do.”

Blitzo just stared with wide eyes as his knifed hand screamed with every minute twitch of the nerves and tendons within. Moxxie raised an eyebrow with his arms crossed, and Millie considered the towel on the desk before dropping it in the trash. It left behind little splatters of his blood on the polished oak as he gritted his teeth.

“Fuck both of you.”

(Which meant, unfortunately, ‘you win for now’, and it was only because he was about to pass out in his chair.)

[coreastories]

The Thirteenth Rule

Tae-eul was given an epiphany. Twice. 

That’s why she makes a decision-- destination be damned. 

Companion to Three Hours for Chicken and Seo-ryeong vs Lady Noh

Chapter 5 of Days and Nights of Forever

April 2020: Tae-eul was a detective. Her training had taught her three hundred sixty vision, spreading her logic and hypotheses far and wide in all directions to try to predict and identify the motivations and ripples of a crime and a suspect trying not to get caught, or trying to weasel away. 

In the normal, non-criminal side of life, it meant she stopped her dad from wasting money on excess groceries, and got Eun-sup out of trouble before he even landed himself in it. She collected evidence and knew how to gather intelligence with or without informants. 

So when she was stabbed in the stomach, her detective’s brain went on a three-sixty degree identification of all threats, conscious and subconscious. 

“Is there-- Is there any way you could tell if I’m pregnant even if it’s too early?”

The doctor and nurses clutched around her in the ER looked stricken. They all stopped what they were doing. Tae-eul tried not to sob or hurl-- she didn’t know which one was making her stomach churn and her throat tight. Luna had stabbed her and that was… it was too horrifying to think of if she was...  

“How early?” the doctor asked, squeezing Tae-eul’s arm as if she knew Tae-eul needed the touch to ground her in the present. “How many days has it been since your period should have come?”

“Um, I think-- I think ten days--two weeks--” 

“All right. We’ll check.” The doctor turned to someone. “Run to the lab. Add the test to her vial. Prioritize it so we know what to do.” She turned back to Tae-eul. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you in the meantime as if you’re pregnant.” 

Tae-eul tried to stay awake, tried to wait to find out, but her detective’s brain had done its job and shut down. 

She woke up in her private room. Everything rushed back-- there was no pause, no blinking into consciousness, only instant, real fear which she didn’t even understand. Her heart rate sped up. She looked at the tube curled and attached on the back of her wrist, followed the line to the bags on the stand. What was in those bags? Was she--

“Hi Lieutenant Jeong. It’s me. I’m Dr Bong.” Tae-eul turned at the voice and recognized the kind intern or resident who had treated her in the ER. “You’re all right. Thankfully, there was no major trauma, and you avoided a laceration on your liver by two centimeters.” 

The intern paused and smiled hesitantly. “You are not-- were not-- pregnant.” 

Just like that, Tae-eul could breathe again. The doctor seemed to understand. She reached out to pat Tae-eul’s hand. “You’ll be fine. You’re on antibiotics and opioids for the pain.”

Tae-eul wiped the tears she didn’t even realize had tracked down her cheeks. “Gomapseumnida.” 

The doctor nodded, smiling. “If you’re hungry, you can eat. We’ll bring you food in a little while.”

Tae-eul thanked the doctor again and turned her head to look out the window. She tentatively felt her side-- stiff with thick bandages. There was a sore, tender feeling deep beneath the skin, nothing like the pain she’d felt when she was stabbed, but still painful even if it was currently a dull pain. 

Not pregnant. Was not pregnant. Good. That was really good. She had plans for Luna, and Tae-eul was relieved she didn’t have to kill Luna, because she would have if Luna had-- 

It would be ridiculous to-- she sighed, swallowed, and tried to stop her lips from trembling. It was ridiculous to want, to love a-- 

She didn’t even know where Gon was. 

She didn’t know where Gon was. 

That was exactly the reason the possibility of being pregnant had both terrified and comforted her. 

If she never saw him again, she wouldn’t be alone, wouldn’t really be without him, if she had a-- 

She couldn’t even mention it in her head. 

She sighed. She swiped at her eyes and appreciated that the hospital people had placed her phone within easy reach. She dialed. 

“Hyeong-nim. Where are you? I need you to find the other me. Luna. I’m fine, I’m good. Okay. Good. I’ll come.” 

Tae-eul was glad for her detective’s brain anyway. It can compartmentalize. First, get out of bed. Then, get Luna. 

And if Gon came back to her, she wasn’t letting him go. 

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

June 2020: 

She very vividly remembered the weekend she had called their life a melodrama. 

It was one of those May days that made you sure of summer. It wasn’t wet, and it wasn’t cold. 

That was also the first time they were sent to present-day Corea-- since the reset anyway. 

That was also the time Gon told her about Kang Shin-jae, the real Kang Shin-jae in the Republic. She’d cried. She had missed him. The Shin-jae she’d known became Kang Hyeon-min of the kingdom and she remembered and missed him.  

That May night in 2020, Gon told her that he had met Kang Shin-jae, had actually changed Shin-jae’s life by delaying his walk to that deadly curve in the street. And then Gon had later seen him, a chaebol heir with all the trimmings, bowing underlings and chauffeured luxury vehicle. So that was what his life was meant to be. She had embraced Gon in tears and was truly glad the manpasikjeok also made that right. 

“I think that’s the last time we went to the past,” Gon had said, smiling ruefully at her tears. 

“No, no, we went to 2016, too. I think that’s the last.” 

“Oh, you’re right. But that was a bust, wasn’t it? We didn’t do much. Well, we did a little.”

She’d giggled while swatting at his hand, which had burrowed under her pajama top to stroke her back earlier while she cried, and now started wandering. 

They’d arrived at the kingdom of 2016 and they had stayed in his study, with Gon distractedly signing off on the various petitions on his desk. She had protested at how careless he was being, but he showed her they were harmless, miscellaneous documents that really only needed the king’s signature, referrals and recommendations and certificates of merit. 

And then, back on that night in May 2020 while recalling their trip to 2016, Gon had stopped moving and stared at her. “I suddenly remember one of the papers I signed. Unless I’m mistaken, I think I signed Koo Seo-gyeong’s recommendation to the Interpol.” 

“Really?”  

Gon looked incredulous, amazed. “I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye now, but it didn’t register with me at the time. You were distracting. You laid down on that chaise by the fire and I wanted to get to you.” He grinned at her unimpressed expression. “Is that what we were meant to do that time? Because I usually don’t sign those documents. I just grabbed random stacks of papers from Secretary Mo’s office for something to pretend to do in the study.” 

“What do you mean you don’t sign them? So those people who need your signature usually go without?”

“We have stamps. Secretary Mo’s staff just use stamps. Those papers don’t even go to me. I’m not really needed..” 

“Ahh.” Tae-eul smiled. “Well, don’t be too full of yourself. I’m sure your signature didn’t matter much. Seo-gyeong is too cool not to get into Interpol.” 

Gon grinned. “You know what else? Kang Hyeon-min followed her there.” 

“Wow. They make a cute couple.” 

And Gon had made an unimpressed face that made her laugh and tickle him with her own hands under his pajamas.  

So that May weekend was memorable for her. It was full of revelations. 

It was also the last time she had her period. It was June now. She should have had her period over a week ago. The only time she was late, it was understandable because she’d been running on high levels of anxiety. 

Otherwise, her cycle had always run like clockwork. She’d been feeling some tenderness so she thought her period might come today. She had just come into Gon’s bathroom to check again. She looked down at her clean underwear. Nothing. 

Maybe tomorrow. 

She left the bathroom lost in thought. She didn’t register the childish chatter she could hear so she gasped when she rounded the corner and something collided with her knees. 

“Noona!” 

“Look who’s here,” Gon said belatedly. 

Tae-eul chuckled and went down on her knees so she could hug little Woo-jin at his level. He was at that age when he didn’t appreciate being scooped up any more-- except when he wanted airplane rides and piggy backs. 

“Are we kidnapping you again?” Tae-eul asked, pinching those cheeks. Woo-jin laughed. It was an inside joke between the three of them, kidnapping Secretary Mo’s son and escaping from the palace. 

“Yes, yes! Let’s go kidnapping! Let’s go bounce!” 

Tae-eul looked up at Gon, laughing. “Did he just use slang with me?” 

Gon knelt down beside her, grinning. “He means Vaunce. It’s a trampoline park. You want to go?” 

Tae-eul looked between them, and Gon imitated Woo-jin’s pouty-pleading face. She couldn’t help laughing. “Let’s go bounce then!” 

Gon changed into his incognito outfit. T-shirt, light denim jacket, jeans. He also washed his hair to remove the mousse and let his hair dry just lying naturally on his head. 

Then he changed Woo-jin into a similar outfit. Secretary Mo liked dressing her son like a little prep school boy, and in previous kidnappings, he and Tae-eul had to buy Woo-jin clothes he could play in. 

Tae-eul had changed too. Her detective outfit-- her usual shirt, vest, jacket and boxy jeans combo-- didn’t fit a trampoline park, so she picked skinny jeans and a pullover she wouldn’t have to keep hold of if she decided to go all out on a trampoline. 

“Right, Yeong says the getaway car’s on its way to pick us... up--” Gon trailed off, looking from Woo-jin to her, and smiled that boyish smile she loved. “You look nice.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe we should cut your hair.” 

Gon looked exasperated. He picked up Woo-jin. “There. See? Here’s my disguise.” 

Woo-jin giggled. 

They were off, and Tae-eul tried not to be nervous. Being out in the open in present-day Corea made her feel exposed. But thankfully Gon’s disguise worked. The first time it worked they were so stunned they laughed for three minutes straight, disbelieving that it was that easy. 

It was ridiculous but it was effective. Sans bodyguards and trademark hair and long coats, and with Woo-jin in his arms, Gon didn’t look like the king. No one expected it would be the king. They had gone about their day in Busan without anyone making a fuss. 

Or Coreans were simply not too nosy about other families. 

That made her stomach flutter. She knew how they looked. Gon knew how they looked. Woo-jin even called them Omma and Appa in these kidnappings, so they wouldn’t be “caught by the police.” It was part of their inside joke. 

Gon smiled at her in that happy, satisfied way, tucking her against his side with his other arm while holding Woo-jin in the other as they walked from the car-- an ordinary car he drove himself-- to the park. 

Then they were inside and Tae-eul laid a hand on Gon’s arm when he was buying the tickets. 

“What is it?” he asked.

The smell of rubber and disinfectant spray, the noise from the kids, and the colorful interior of the indoor park all churned inside her head, making her chest pound, because a single thought stood out starkly like a big monument amid the swirl of color and sound. 

“Omma--” 

Woo-jin’s voice-- and what he said-- brought Tae-eul back. Her heart was still racing. 

“What is it?” Gon asked again, looking concerned now. “Are you alright? Do you want Viewing Only?” 

Tae-eul shook her head, as much to clear it as to answer Gon. “Of course not. I’m fine. Sorry. Go ahead. Let’s bounce!” 

There was no way she wouldn’t be okay bouncing on a trampoline park. Even if-- even if she were-- it was too early, and she knew women did so much more and they were fine. 

God. 

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

Gon turned down the blankets for her and then immediately caged her with his arms and legs, maneuvering her to face him with her head pillowed on his upper arm.   

“What’s wrong? You’ve been distracted all day.” He stroked her hair and cupped her cheek, fingers gently stroking her ear.

Tae-eul stared into those eyes, looked at that face, sank further into his arms, and forgot why she was scared in the first place. 

“I need to take a pregnancy test.” 

She watched his face and loved what she saw there. The movement of his eyes and cheeks and lips made her heart speed up and she felt like she’d been jumping on trampolines again. He was surprised. He was stunned. He wasn’t unhappy. He opened his mouth but nothing came out at first. Tae-eul waited. 

“Are you-- do you-- how do you feel?” 

And Tae-eul fell more deeply in love with him than ever. In her head, she’d imagined him saying or asking so many other things, his scientific brain demanding facts, but no, the first thing he asked was how she felt about this. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled her face against his chest, kissing him there through his pajama top. 

When she spoke, everything she’d been holding back all day spilled out. The one big thought that had haunted her all day, until now. “I didn’t want to go on the trampolines-- I just suddenly realized it when we were getting tickets. It suddenly terrified me if it might hurt the-- but lots of women do much more while they don’t know they’re-- and I’m still okay and--”

His arms tightened around her. She felt the shudder that ran through him. She stroked his back to soothe him and he mirrored the action, and kissed her hair. 

She knew he understood. That was how she felt about this. She didn’t even know yet if she was really-- but she was already terrified about hurting it. 

That was all that mattered, that was the important thing, that she hadn’t hurt it. 

Everything else-- the fact that they lived in different worlds-- it was all inconsequential. 

“We’ll go first thing tomorrow,” he said, his voice a little gravelly. 

She nodded against him, and they fell asleep like that, after what felt like hours of just quietly holding each other. 

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

They went to a clinic in the republic. He helped her look for a specialty clinic with its own lab, so they wouldn’t have to wait days for the results. He was adamant that they didn’t go to an outright hospital with an OB-gyne department, because she would have been unnecessarily “exposed to something.” 

The OB was a cute woman with a bob. Tae-eul liked her immediately. She explained the options to Tae-eul, and Tae-eul chose the blood test without waiting for the doctor to finish explaining the vaginal sono. 

The doctor laughed but said she understood. No point having to go through that when Tae-eul hadn’t even taken a home PT. She wanted the blood test to give her a definite answer. So Tae-eul peed in a cup and her blood was taken and that was it.

They did have to wait two hours so they could have the results of the urine and blood test together. They went to a cafe and sat in a booth tucked away near the back. 

“Let’s not get our hopes up.” 

He grinned and took her hands, just wrapping his fingers over hers around her mug of hot chocolate. “So you hope for it, too, do you?”

She shook her head at him and tried to stay rational. “We’re careful. The chances are point zero zero three percent.”

“I’ll take those chances. We’ve always been exceptional.”

Tae-eul just looked at him sardonically. He laughed. 

They ordered food and ate, talking about everything else but what they were waiting for. 

They both knew they couldn’t discuss anything yet until they knew. 

And Tae-eul was glad about having him this time, anchoring her, being the giddy one so she could be the calm one, and she was able to eat just fine, all her nerves calm and steady because he was there with her and everything would be just fine. 

That she wasn’t pregnant was an anticlimax she didn’t know what to do with. 

They’d thanked the doctor and she had smiled at them. “Keep trying! It won’t take long. I hope to see you again and give you the good news.” 

They got in the car and just sat there for a few moments, with Gon looking at her and her looking at her hands in her lap. 

“Tae-eul?” 

She looked at him and smiled. “Let’s go back to the bamboo forest.” 

He seemed to understand--he always did-- and started the car without pressing her further. 

Tae-eul leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, meditating on what she’d just discovered about herself, and what it meant for them. 

The rest of the drive to the bamboo grove, they stayed silent. At some point, Gon reached for her hand and brought their hands up to stroke her cheek for a moment. 

“Saranghae.” 

She enclosed his hand with both of hers, resting their hands on the center console and turning to him a little without opening her eyes. She smiled. “Nado.” 

When they sat on a bench in the bamboo grove, Tae-eul was resolved. 

Since she met him she’d had to take several leaps of faith and he had always proven worth it, everything about him was real, true, pure-- well, not pure, because she’d seen him kill and purity wasn’t important anyway-- and he was home to her. He was her home and they were both living and loving this strange and wonderful fate but she was ready if that fate meant so much more. 

She wanted so much more. 

She’d been through this twice now and both times had shown her what she wanted, what her heart absolutely ached for each time it happened. 

She looked at him and she didn’t have to tell him to look at her because he already was, peering at her face, looking worried. She smiled and smoothed her thumb on his forehead. 

“Don’t look like that. I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

She nodded. She took a deep breath. She placed both hands on his shoulders, then slid them up and cradled his cheeks, squishing them and making him grin before moving her hands to that jawline she loved so much. 

“Lee Gon. Here’s the thirteenth rule. If we ever get married, I’ll stop being on birth control and let’s just see where that takes us. Are you alright with that?”

He blinked at her and in a matter of two blinks his eyes sparkled with unshed tears. She smiled and felt tears run down her own cheeks. He wiped them and then just held her cheeks, too. They probably looked ridiculous to passersby but she didn’t care. 

“Well,” he said, then exhaled and took a deep breath. He slid his arms around her and held her tightly. “Well, I always follow your rules, don’t I?”  

[hellflame-for-a-reason]

Vampires don't have blood quirks

Part two

Tw for blood and loss of control

Training, it was the last lesson before lunch so they were all a little antsy. Mr Aizawa led them all to a large building and told them they were going to play a little game; everyone was given a little marble, and they could store it anywhere on them, the object of the game was to steal as many marbles as possible and the moment you lost your marble, you were out. There were to be three rounds, or at least as many as they could manage before lunch. So they took their marbles and hid them somewhere in their gym outfit, this task would be unfair if they were to use their hero costumes. Tenya certainly knew that it would be easy to hide a marble in his suit- he was half tempted to put it down an exhaust pipe but he knew that was too risky so he simply slid it into his shoe.

The whistle was blown and they all rushed into the building, Tenya knew that fights would break out as soon as the whistle was blown so he ran as deep into the building as he could get- it would be too risky to pick up stray marbles. He was wondering how he should play this while kind of wishing he’d brought a small snack, he’d only had a small juice box for breakfast after all. He simply ignored that and did his best to head around the corridors, sticking to the shadows. It was a good strategy as most other students were running about hunting each other… oh he shouldn’t use that word, it made him think about how much he couldn’t wait for lunch.

His way of doing things paid off, he managed to get second place in the first round, and now in the second round, he already had 4 marbles clasped in his fist. He turned a corner at full speed, suddenly finding himself on his back as a weight landed on his chest. For some reason he couldn’t see who it was… oh wait, “Hagakure?”

She giggled, “yep! Sorry Iida, can I have your marble?”

“Of course you can, you’ve earned it.” he pulled the marble out from its hiding place, holding it out for her, she took it. “This is certainly your kind of exercise isn’t it?”

Hagakure laughed at that, “it is, it's very fun! How about you?”

“It’s definitely fun,” he agreed, pausing when a very familiar smell filled his nose, “are you hurt at all?”

“Hm? Oh I did cut myself slightly earlier but it’s fine, I put a bandaid on it.”

“The bandaid’s come off.”

“Oh? Oh! It has! Thank you Iida!” She finally got off of him, he did his best to hold his breath as he stood up, slowly leaving the building, where he allowed himself to breathe deeply. Great; now he was even more hungry, and they still had a round to go.

The third round, Iida didn’t want to get too close to anyone, he was kicking himself for not getting more breakfast. He could smell Bakugo’s brand new nosebleed from three rooms away, and it was making him dizzy. He resolved himself to just sit in the window of one of the rooms, staring out and trying to breath without smelling anything. It wasn’t like he was trying to make himself hungry, this was just a terrible situation. He prayed no one would come into the room he was hiding in, he didn’t care about his marble but he couldn’t exactly trust himself like this.

He could see the people who were knocked out of the game leaving the building from here, it was a nice distraction but there was a small part of his brain that was begging him to jump down there and hunt. So the footsteps that came too close weren't entirely unwelcome of a distraction, he still froze in place, not wanting to move a muscle for fear he’d lose it. He knew it was Midoriya, from the bouncing footsteps to the scent of fresh cut grass and residue blood. Midoriya was the last person Tenya ever wanted to hurt.

“Iida?”

Oh the hand on his shoulder was a mistake and within seconds Midoriya was pinned against the floor with Tenya perched on top of him. The green haired boy had turned red, staring up at him as Tenya leaned too close, way too close. Tenya knew it was wrong, he knew that, but Midoriya just smelt so good, and he simply couldn’t take it. He inhaled the scent deeply, feeling his heart rate jump up to almost that of a human’s. His mouth had filled with saliva and he felt incredibly warm and adrenaline-filled.

“...I-...Iida..?”

“You’d make a much better damsel than Uraraka…” he was unable to think of anything but how his friend might taste, his engine warming up on its own, the adrenaline kicking it into gear.

“...what?”

“Huh?” Midoriya’s confusion gave Tenya the moment of clarity he needed, “oh! Yes, the marble, where’s the marble?”

“My pocket… are you okay?”

“Mhm!” he nodded, taking the marble from Midoriya’ pocket, “ah you’re out it seems, best get down and tell Mr Aizawa,”

“I can’t, you’re still on top of me.”

“Oh, I’ll just get off of you then…” he stood up, struggling to keep his thoughts coherent.

"Yeah…" Midoriya got up, brushing himself off as he stared at Tenya in confusion, "are you alright Iida? You're…"

"Fine, I'm fine," Tenya waved his hand dismissively, "you should go wait out the rest of the round."

Midoriya hurried off and Tenya was alone with his thoughts, kicking himself for losing his cool the way he did. He couldn't believe he was seriously considering biting him, he would never hurt his friends, he loved his friends. He's never even bitten a human in his entire life, that's not something a hero does! Tenya couldn't shake the feeling that Midoriya's smell had given him though, it had been so incredibly intoxicating, in more than one sense. For a split second he wondered if Midoriya would taste as good as he smelt, he instantly killed that thought the moment he had it- that was something he should never be thinking about, he wasn't a monster!

When the round ended, Tenya stumbled out of the building and stood there silently, trying to ignore the small cuts and bloody noses of his classmates though it drove him crazy. Mr Aizawa had asked them all how many marbles they had, and out of the students still left in the building by the end, Tenya had the least amount of marbles, only having taken one. Bakugo, who had gotten the most, seemed to find this funny. Laughing at Tenya, he leered, "what were you even doing this whole time? Sitting on your ass?"

Tenya just sighed in response, not feeling like retorting, but as class president, he had a duty to take no shit and be an example to his fellow students. "For your information, Bakugo, this isn't really my forte; my quirk and skillset are built for speed and power, not for ambushing and hunting." He was right, although the part about not being built for hunting was incorrect, his entire species was built for that sort of thing.

"You have a point Iida," Mr Aizawa spoke up, "however you were quite good in the first round, and if it wasn't for Hagakure you definitely would have gotten a good score there too. So did something happen this round? Is there a reason for your sudden lapse in performance?"

"Sir?" Midoriya raised his hand quietly, "not to overstep but it was my marble he took and when I found him, he seemed a little… dazed? I don't really know how to describe it…"

Tenya couldn't look at Midoriya, he didn't want to feel the way he'd felt then again. He hadn't meant to freak poor Midoriya out like that, he couldn't imagine a worse thing to happen. Mr Aizawa turned to him, clearly waiting for an explanation of this behaviour, but there was no way Tenya could tell the truth. Instead he just sighed, trying not to meet his eyes, "I am feeling a little… dizzy, sir. I apologize for not doing anything about it."

"Ah, I see. If you're feeling under the weather then you shouldn't push yourself to train, you should have just told me you felt ill."

He bowed his head in shame, "yes sir, my apologies."

"Stop apologizing and go get some rest, class is dismissed, I'll go over my observations with you tomorrow."

The class filed out of the room, most of them heading to the changing rooms or the cafeteria, but Tenya found himself rushing across the campus to get to the dorms. He could feel his mind clouding again as he got through the door, the entire dorms smelled of his friends, it smelt so unbearably human. Quickly making his way up the stairs, Tenya could only pray his friends weren't kind enough to try and check up on him. The moment he got into his room, he slammed the door shut, he was unable to lock it so he did the next best thing and slid a chair under the handle. Hopefully that would keep any would-be-victims out of the room. With the last of his control fading, Tenya let out a groan that quickly turned to a hiss, good gosh he was hungry.

He got to the floor, opening the minifridge that he kept under his bed. Unfortunately he opened it so quickly he tore the door off, but in this state, he really didn't care. All he cared about was feeding. He grabbed the biggest bag he could, not even bothering to use a straw as he tore into it, ignoring how it got on his face; all he could focus on was the taste and how much he needed this.

It was only animal blood; he'd heard that human blood was better but he would never consider trying it, animal blood was all he'd ever done and it should be enough to quell his frenzy. That was what it was, a feeding frenzy; something that happened when a vampire got particularly overwhelmed with thirst. Any control or logic went out the window in favour of doing anything and everything in his power to feed, that was why he'd put the chair under his door handle, he didn't want to get out and during a frenzy he likely wouldn't be able to figure out how to escape. Luckily the blood bags seemed enough for him, and he was happy to just sit there and tear open bag after bag of the red nectar.

After around ten minutes of feeding, Tenya found himself a lot calmer, allowing himself to slow down with the feeding. His floor was littered with empty blood bags now, so he'd probably have to clean up before the next lesson. For now, though, he could just relax and enjoy his lunch, this particular bag was beef blood- his favourite. He was just vibing, he wasn't expecting a knock at his dorm room door. Naturally, he panicked, grabbing all the bags and shoving them into the fridge, not caring if one popped. "One minute!" He hoped they wouldn't be suspicious by how long it took him to get to the door, he didn't have a mop so he had to go at his floor with a tissue.

When he finally opened the door, he saw that it was Midoriya and Todoroki standing there. Midoriya smiled up at him, "are you feeling any better now Iida?"

Tenya smiled, appreciating that his friends were so caring, "of course, I'm perfectly fine now. Not to worry Midoriya, I'm feeling better now."

"That's good!" Midoriya smiled, walking into the room, followed by Todoroki, who frowned the moment he'd stepped through the doorway.

"Wh-" Iida closed the door behind them, "did you need anything more?"

"No, Midoriya suggested we come and check on you to make sure you were doing alright. Have you eaten yet?"

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Sinners & Saints

A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help

Previous Chapters at AO3

Chapter Four

“Hmm, I’m sorry sir, this is a fake. I know that’s hard to hear. I will speak to the police if you want to make a report.”

“You bloody well look again. That vase is Ming so that means you are an idiot.”

Jamie walked to the appraisal room at Christie’s where Claire was working today. His fists balled up listening to the man yell at the Sassenach.

“I assure you it’s a fake sir and I’ve decided not to help you with a report, you can go.”

“If you move one step, I will stop you until you prove why it’s a fake.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, fine.”

Claire picked up the vase and threw it against the wall making the man gasp, red-faced, while Claire pushed past him and picked up a shard. Jamie’s eyebrows went up and he tried not to laugh, completely spellbound by her.

“The only true test of a Ming is the blue color of the clay after it’s fired. See, this is white. Oh all right you big baby, I’ll pay for it, I’m sure I have a dollar bill in my purse.”

The man screamed like a banshee and lunged for her, feeling his feet leave the ground, his face changed to shock as he reached behind him trying to open the hand that held him. Jamie shook his head when the man started yelling for help. He dragged the man to the door and whispered in his ear.

“Get near the lady again and I’ll rip your throat out, okay?”

The man bolted out the door and spun around to look at Jamie who smiled and thanked him for coming before closing the door. There were only two more people waiting for Claire to appraise their art and both looked nervous, clutching their prized paintings and looking at the shattered mess on the floor. One lady left, and the other was thrilled she had an authenticated treasure. Claire was a popular appraiser and seemed to know exactly where to find proof of her valuation. She would spin her laptop and there it was, selling price and picture of a comparable piece from the same artist.

Christie’s was very good at locking the doors at six o’clock, even when people pounded to get in. The room was suddenly empty except for Jamie and Claire. He helped her pack up and though she seemed normal in every way he could feel a disturbance in her energy.

“Sassenach, we have been up late every night this week. If you’re as tired as I am, maybe you should rest tonight and not be pestered by me.”

“Did you just suggest room service and a movie before early shut-eye? If so, then I accept!”

Jamie smiled and exhaled gratefully. It would have been a supreme sacrifice to lose a night with the Sassenach and he loved her suggestion.

“It’s our last night together, so we can celebrate the holiday a day early in our pajamas okay?”

Jamie’s palm itched as he thought about running his hand up the satin nightgown. He would miss her when they both went home and he wondered what promises they would make, if any.

“Javier has invited you to dinner tomorrow night. He throws a lavish party on Christmas eve at his restaurant and wants to meet you. What do you say?” She wrapped her arms around his middle for a hug.

“Of course, it would be my honor.”

Claire laughed seeing Jamie load his arms up with all her belongings, “you are super hot and so darn useful Jamie.”

That made him laugh but truth be told, like it or not, he was living for her next statement of endearment, whatever that might be. He just wanted to matter to her because that was the first step in building something that would change their lives. As long as there was a chance he might catch Casper, there was a chance at a life with the Sassenach.

“Jamie, I want to hire you to show me some exercises to build up my upper body strength, what do you say? There’s a gym at the hotel and I am worried because I can barely do three pull-ups anymore.”

“It would be a pleasure to assist you Sassenach,” he smiled realizing they would have the entire day tomorrow. No work for either of them, but such a strange request from one so fair.

When Jamie knocked later that evening, Claire felt the now familiar butterflies take flight in her stomach. She was convinced he had no idea she was Casper so she could just be herself, a professor with a crush on a cop. She asked several questions over the last few days about which agency he worked for but he was vague with the answers, saying the task force he led was a multi-agency effort. She didn’t want to pry and assumed his partial answers were a testament to an underlying boredom or unhappiness with the job. She might overthink her way right out of these hot nights with him, so she stopped analyzing him and just looked forward to the next time his hungry eyes devoured her.

Jamie had shamelessly taken possession of her body and mind every night this week and tried to calm himself down as he walked to her door. Even if he needed handcuffs it was the Sassenach’s turn at seduction and he just had to wait. He groaned inwardly trying to think of anything except her long legs, tiny waist, long hair, perky breasts, and her sweet kisses. He felt defeated already.

After a delicious meal brought by room service, Claire curled up in Jamie’s arms for a new movie they both enjoyed. Halfway through Claire turned toward him and unbuttoned his shirt pushing it off his shoulders. She moved her hand down the arm that was wrapped around her waist and tried to concentrate on the movie. She twisted to face him ten minutes later and kissed his neck and chest, pulling his face to hers she kissed him deeply and touched him everywhere.

The movie ended and Claire got up to lite the candles and hand Jamie another beer. She pulled him to the side of the bed and straddled his lap, kissing him slowly and then sinking to the floor. Jamie was fascinated with her moves, feeling like she was trying them for the first time, but that was ridiculous.

Getting his jeans off seemed to take an eternity while Jamie studied her. Keeping his hands to himself allowed him to experience Claire’s world and it was so different he was astounded. When she put him in her mouth, he could see this act pushed her arousal and she lost herself until Jamie pulled her away. Her mouth was open and eyes half-closed when he pulled her face to him for a deep kiss. I promise to try again to let you lead Sassenach, but I’m taking over, he thought.

Later, in the dark, Jamie ran his fingers through her hair and marveled at the mystery of Claire Beauchamp.

“Sassenach, how does one so tender throw a vase against the wall in front of the owner?”

“It really got his attention,” she giggled in her sleepiness. “He’s an opportunist that got hustled is what he is. I have no respect for people like that. He knew nothing of its providence or even which dynasty and had the audacity to challenge my authority on the subject. He deserved it.”

Jamie cataloged her answer in his brain and smiled to himself when she asked him to come closer. He wrapped her up in his arms and listened to the human equivalent of purring. A low soft moan that came from a happy place deep within her. He slept and dreamed of Lallybroch feeling her shift position through the night and reach for him. His sweet Sassenach.

Jamie was up and dressed early to conclude some new hire business. He gently pushed the hair out of Claire’s face, and she smiled trying to pull him in for a hug. He kissed her cheeks and whispered he would meet her in the hotel gym at noon and then left her to her dreams.

The morning blew past as Claire wrote reports, made phone calls, and returned email. She was feeling happy like sparklers were going off inside of her. It was Christmas eve, a holy holiday, and Jamie would be with her to celebrate tonight. She bounced into the hotel gym and saw Jamie sitting on a bench, red-faced and sweating. A long bar was racked behind him with three large weights at both ends. Impressive, she thought, as she walked to him. He carefully kissed her cheek trying to avoid sweating all over her.

“Ah, my Sassenach, what is your goal with this workout?”

“I want to do at least five pull-ups, underhanded and over-handed, without effort please.”

Jamie walked around her and listed the muscle groups she needed to work, touching each while he circled her.

“You need specific strength building for biceps, triceps, pectorals, deltoids, trapezius, Rhomboideus major, and teres major. Are you joining the circus Sassenach?”

“Certainly not, but I carry heavy canvases that are getting more difficult to manage and it’s required to be a decent cat burglar.” She gave her best ‘I am a professor smile’ and giggled.

“Uncle” was muttered after an hour and she clung to Jamie. He walked her back to her room and gently massaged her tired muscles. He could feel them shaking under the skin and hoped he hadn’t pushed her too hard.

“You need to soak in a tub of hot water mo chridhe. I will watch the game and guard you. Okay?”

Jamie was asleep when she got out of the tub. He looked like a handsome angel, so serene in his rest. He was relaxed, unguarded, and he looked ten years younger. Something about Jamie made her feel hopeful and happy for some reason. She tried to imagine going back to Chicago, getting Frank out of her life, starting another semester, and the big decision about stealing art. That was the reality of her life, and this week was a sweet tryst with an incredible man, and that was all.

“Sassenach, come lass.”

He held his hand out to her and pulled her to him so he could make her forget whatever made her look so sad.

In late afternoon, Claire straightened her hair and lined her eyes putting two coats of mascara on her lashes, powder on her cheeks that shimmered, and red lipstick. She wore a silver sparkling wrap-around dress and thigh-high boots that stopped an inch from the hem. When she opened the door for Jamie, she was shocked. He wore a dark blue suit, white shirt and a paisley blue tie. He looked scrubbed with his hair slicked back. His eyes looked like blue diamonds.

“Wow, you clean up nicely,” she said wrapping her arms around him.

He had a gorgeous bottle of Italian Merlot in a gift box for Javier and Claire was very impressed. Rubbing her lipstick on a tissue she reached for him and kissed until his toes curled. He looked closely at her face and hair and she knew he loved the way she looked. What a fine way to start the evening, she thought.

Javier opened the door to greet them and was quite happy about the snow falling outside. He shook Jamie’s hand with a warm smile and kissed Claire’s cheeks. They were brought into the dining room of the restaurant where a huge table was set with finery. Javier made the introductions and Jamie sat down next to the host while Claire made her way around the table, hugging and kissing the people in Javier’s inner circle. When she came back to Jamie he was in a lively conversation with Javier and another man about the European football leagues. The men were laughing and Javier told the other man in French, “this kid knows his football.” Jamie thanked him in French making them all laugh.

Course after course was placed in front of Claire. Soup, salad, a sumptuous duck and roasted vegetables, followed by coffee, and a delightful chocolate mousse with fresh whipped cream. Claire would take two or three bites of each in order to finish the meal. Jamie ate every bite with a smile on his face and Javier almost cried. She watched Jamie engage any conversation that was offered, with the appropriate grace, humor, or sympathy. She was so grateful he came. When he was bantering with another guest, Claire watched is face until he turned his head and smiled at her. She could feel the blush spread across her cheeks as she quickly looked away. Two old women snickered to each other and talked behind their napkins.

Jamie shook hands with Javier who handed him a business card and asked him to call when he was in town. The blush on Jamie’s cheeks showed how much he appreciated the gesture. They piled into the back of the Rolls Royce and Joseph took them back to the hotel. He watched them kissing and was happy they were going to separate ends of the earth tomorrow. He could see no good coming from this relationship.

Joseph hugged Claire and when she turned around his smile disappeared and the look he gave Jamie made his blood run cold. The older man got behind the wheel and drove away without a backward glance. Jamie wasn’t sure what to make of that but he looked up and saw his pretty girl beckoning him out of the snow.

“Merry Christmas Jamie.”

“Merry Christmas Sassenach. Come here.”

At three in the morning, Claire’s cell phone started ringing and didn’t stop. Jamie whispered that her phone was ringing and it could be an emergency of some kind. Claire sat up and grabbed her phone, suddenly afraid that something bad had happened.

“Hello!”

“Claire darling you come home tomorrow right? Yes, well I am making sure because it’s Christmas and you have been gone.”

“Frank why are you calling me in the middle of the night you scared the shit out of me!”

“If I wasn’t so drunk I would think you were yelling at me. That’s ridiculous because I’m a fuckin Senator and you are a measly teacher. Now listen Claire, this is your last trip to wherever, from now on you are here or at the school. Got that?”

Frank was so drunk she could hardly understand him, and she was getting mad. “Now tell me how to unlock your computer.”

“Why are you in my house, Frank?”

“Why not.”

She heard a loud bang, the sound of glass breaking, and Frank in the background yelling profanities.

“You fucking computer!”

Claire clicked off and ran to her laptop to look up the police precinct closest to her. She gave a report that her ex-boyfriend broke into her apartment and was destroying everything. She explained she was in Paris and told them his name.

“His name is Frank Randall.”

“Is it spelled like the Senator Frank Randall?”

“It is Senator Frank Randall.”

The cop who was taking the report smiled to himself. Senator Randall had voted to defund the Chicago police and they hated him for being a ball-less politician parrot. He wouldn’t enjoy his time with them tonight.

Claire was fuming and slipped her nightgown over her head, filling a glass with bottled water.

“What can I do to help Claire?”

“Nothing Jamie, I’m fine, I’m just going to wait for the police to call. Go back to sleep.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, honestly, it’s taken care of. A rather unpleasant episode with my soon to be ex.”

Jamie could not believe she was shutting him out of this incident with Frank like he didn’t matter and had no business in her real world. He was being respectful when he didn’t ask her about after they leave Paris or maybe he just didn’t want to know.

“Claire, were you going to call me when you go back to Chicago?”

“What?”

He could see it in her eyes, confusion about a question that seemed so simple to him. She never planned to see him again, or even call. He was nothing to her. He dressed quickly and left her room. He couldn’t think of anything to say to her so he said nothing. He went to his room and changed into jeans for a long walk through the city while he worked this out in his head.

Claire couldn’t stop crying as she watched him out her window. He walked away hunched into his coat against the cold. She sobbed, realizing she had lost herself in the arms and charm of Jamie Fraser. She never told him she would call, she never said she had feelings for him. She would never forget his face as he figured out what this week was to her. She laid on his pillow with his wonderful smell and cried herself to sleep.

In the morning, Claire called Jamie’s room, and looked for him in the dining room and gym. She asked at the front desk and was told he checked out. It felt like an emotional bomb going off inside her and she struggled to get to her room before falling apart. She looked at his name in her contacts and wrote him a text about how sorry she was, then deleted it. She was dreadfully sorry she hurt him but knew all along they would go separate ways. She didn’t think it would feel so bad.

Claire boarded her plane with puffy red eyes and a pounding headache. About every ten minutes she felt the tears start again and finally ordered whisky so she could sleep. Her life stretched out before her and never seemed so bleak. Jamie Fraser showed her a fresh new day where anything was possible, and he held her like a precious treasure. Now she was going back to her life in a dirty, crime-ridden city, with a drunk Frank telling her what to do, and she could not find a ray of light in all that. She raised her hand for another whisky.

Claire walked toward the baggage claim and could hardly put one foot in front of the other. Geillis hugged her gushing questions about Paris and going on about her new man. The doorman at her building helped carry her suitcases to the elevator asking if she needed help to her apartment. She tipped him and said she would be fine. Her key slid into her door lock and she bent to take the first case inside. A large fist came out of nowhere and cold-cocked her. The assailant left her on the floor with her door open and suitcases in the hall. She was unconscious.

Jamie walked through Paris for hours, but the decorations and lights were not noticed this time. His brain crunched the facts that were heartily ignored for the last four days realizing he believed what he wanted. She was an enigma with an enchanting personality that drew him to her, she was mysterious because she shared little about who she was inside. He didn’t believe she wanted to hurt him, but it hurt nonetheless.

Jamie flew back to Scotland pounding whisky and sleeping to avoid thinking about the Sassenach. He retrieved his car and drove the country roads to Lallybroch, feeling better with each passing minute. He would hurt and miss her, but he truly hoped to forget her in time.

Claire’s face was swelling badly when the paramedics arrived, she was asking for Jamie, completely disoriented. When she saw only strangers around her, she started to cry like her soul was dying. The EMT’s brought her suitcases into the apartment and tested her for a concussion, asking her to come to the hospital but she refused. When they left, she turned in a circle and saw destruction everywhere. The glass-top computer desk was shattered on the floor, cables yanked out, monitor smashed, furniture was in pieces, and the kitchen floor was inches deep with shattered glass, crystal, and dishes.

Two officers were lifting prints in the bedroom and walked out to see a young woman looking as shattered as the apartment. They knew this was done by someone she knew, this was personal and laced with violent hatred. Both were afraid for her and asked where they could take her for the night.

Claire looked up at the officers taking a moment to understand the question. She shook her head and opened the door for them. Other than have a cruiser drive by her building during the night, there was little they could do without her cooperation. They left reluctantly, both fearing he would come again, this time for her life.

Claire recognized she was in shock. All she could see was Jamie’s face, at dinner when he smiled at her, sleepy and hugging her, laughing at her banter, and crumbling from the truth. If there was whisky and a remaining chair she would have stayed right there, but there wasn’t. She took her suitcase and left to stay in a hotel where she sat in the darkness staring at nothing until Paris woke up.

Javier listened to his goddaughter cry and explain being knocked out and the destruction of everything she owned, even her clothes had a knife taken to them. Javier took the call in his office and accepted a glass of water and a baby aspirin from Joseph who recognized a dangerous tone of voice in his employer, and lifelong friend. Joseph closed his door so Javier would not be disturbed and took a position nearby to stop anyone from knocking. Javier called his name, and Joseph, not liking where the dominoes were falling, prepared for the worst.

“The bear is in trouble, he’s going to kill her!” Javier ranted the story out as Joseph felt the magma rising in his soul. They knew she might go to jail someday until they could get her out, but being struck and terrorized by that perverted piece of shit had Joseph on the edge of reason. Javier was packing up his briefcase and told Joseph to get packed, they were going to Chicago.

Claire clicked off her phone and sat still. She had not stood up since coming to this room in the middle of the night. She dialed Frank.

“Hello darling, Merry Christmas! What time will you be ready for dinner?”

“Come anytime, Frank.” She disconnected.

She had not intended to confront him, but he would have to start pretending, shock, concern, anger, protectiveness, all the emotions a real fiancé would have when he stumbles into her wrecked apartment. She expected her phone to start ringing in about twenty minutes.

“Hello Frank, did you get a good look at the mess you made last night. Shut your mouth or I will..” He kept sputtering a string of words and talking louder. She clicked off and waited. This happened three more times before he remained quiet on the phone so she could talk.

“If you want to stay alive to pursue whatever it is you’re pursuing you only have one rule, never speak to me or see me again for as long as you live. Even if you see me by accident…bye-bye baby. I’m not the meek teacher you think I am, and you have fucked with the wrong person. Don’t believe me? Try it Frank, and I’ll be more than happy to order your life extinguished.”

Claire felt some weird kind of closure with that and stumbled to the bed where she passed out from exhaustion. She dreamed of Jamie whispering in her ear and felt the happiness bubble up inside her. The ringing of her cell phone pulled her out of sleep. She didn’t know where she was or how long she slept and Javier’s worried voice on the phone was asking where she was. Her face hurt so badly she couldn’t remember the name of the hotel until she looked at the branding all around her.

Javier almost fainted when he saw Claire’s face. He was no stranger to violence, but the Bear’s face was beyond recognition, black and swollen with one eye puffy and closed. He hugged her gingerly and walked her to the bed. Claire was telling him she was fine, but she was very much not fine. Joseph had turned away from her to hide his tears and get control of himself. Javier handed her a pill and a glass of water. Once she was asleep, Joseph stayed in the room and Javier went looking for a new residence for her. He was gone all day and she slept peacefully.

Joseph looked down at her, deep in sleep. He saw the fifteen-year-old, fresh from the jungle, quiet and self-protective, completely vulnerable. He remembered her locked in the bathroom for hours, showering, flushing the toilet, showering again. Her fingers were puckered for the first several weeks from so much washing. Joseph and Javier bent over backwards to make her welcome and finally, after two weeks, she smiled, and then laughed at something said and Joseph thought his heart would explode with happiness. They were devoted to her happiness, and when she grew up, she returned their kindness by becoming the most extraordinary woman. Now here she was, beaten and broken. He took a deep breath and went back to his seat to pull himself together.

Javier arranged for a medical doctor to examine Claire at the hotel because she refused to leave the room. He gave her antibiotics and pain medication and ordered rest for a week as the swelling came down in her face. He was happy to say her eye was not damaged, and her sight would clear up in time. Claire took the medicine as directed and slept like the dead. Javier would go out each day making arrangements for her apartment and filling it with furniture, dishes, crystal, flat wear, pots and pans, linens, towels, shower gels, shampoo, even some makeup. He had impeccable taste, but he was not a thirty-year-old female in Chicago, so he hired a decorator to make the selections. All of it was the best quality money could buy and Javier was in heaven to be spoiling his Bear.

Claire had put the brakes on Javier’s extravagance at age eighteen. She allowed him to finance school and a simple wardrobe and saved her money for anything else she wanted. Joseph would drive her to her job each afternoon at a nearby printer. She sat on plastic for the ride home because she was covered in ink smears and dirt from crawling into the machines. Javier would wince seeing her filthy and exhausted but could never convince her to quit.

Everything changed for Claire when she was hired by Christie’s auction house to be a runner during auctions. Every other day she assisted the appraiser, the decorator, or anyone else that needed help. She was exposed to the great artists of the Renaissance, Baroque, Rococo , Neoclassicism, and Romanticism periods and she was hooked. During dinner one evening, she laid out her plan; what schools she would attend, what graduate school she would choose for her PHD, and her choice of career, teaching fine art at a respected University. She apologized for not knowing which University yet and Joseph shot a few peas across the table before he could raise the napkin to his mouth. The original plan never wavered, she did exactly what she said she would do.

After two weeks of rest, Javier checked them all out of the hotel and brought Claire to her new home, a high security, luxury apartment overlooking Lake Michigan. It was extravagant and huge, filled with high-end furniture and decorations. Claire found beautiful crystal stemware, glasses, mugs, plates and everything in between. Her closet was filled with basic clothing, drawers filled with undergarments, sweaters, belts and socks. She pressed her fingers against her mouth and couldn’t stop the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She hugged her godfather, and then Joseph, shaking with emotion, so grateful for all their help.

Claire utilized the gourmet kitchen to cook an American favorite for Javier and Joseph, filet mignon, lobster tail with butter for dipping, baked potato and herb-roasted carrots. Javier hovered in case she needed help and Joseph laughed and told him to sit down and enjoy the sun setting on the Chicago skyline. Javier planned to rave over this simple, no sauce meal until the beef melted in his mouth and the lobster exploded with flavor. He lost himself in the unusual and primitive meal and Claire mentally high-fived herself. The meal was symbolic. She was a grownup who could manage life on her own, thanks to their help.

Claire hugged them goodbye at the elevator and promised to visit at Christmas next year. When the elevator doors closed, she took her first steps in independence, free of Frank, free to pursue her career, free to choose her every next step. The only thing still missing was color. The apartment building was opulent and surely full of beautiful colors, but she only saw shades of gray in the objects she passed.

Geillis made arrangements for Claire’s senior graduate student to start her classes when the new semester started. The administration was told her face was heeling after a car accident and they were too happy to help. The first day she walked into her lecture hall there was only sympathy on the faces watching her. She was grateful and soon her love of teaching took over and life returned to normal, albeit colorless.

[mercurryblack]

Chapter 11: Cait (Part 1)

You speak of the Grimm that scour the land outside the cities?

The real monsters are already here.

❃❃❃

“Can you please *hah* tell me why *heh* we’re running to *huh* Yuen’s office?” Cait wheezed.

After Hattie had so gleefully hinted at what they were going to do, she had wasted no time in dragging Cait out of the door and ordering them to run as fast as they could to the precinct, giving them only enough time to grab their weapon; a pair of chain flails they had christened as Entwined Catenary.

“I called her up, and she said that Sardion and her were going to go investigate a potential lead!” replied Hattie, her weapon Whirling Dervish strapped over her back in its gun form and her left hand firmly around Cait’s right wrist. Her jubilant attitude appeared to be doing wonders for her stamina—despite the fact that they had been running for a good half mile, she hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Wait, seriously? Where?” Cait asked, completely forgetting about their still-incomplete essay. Despite their past week of getting nowhere, a small feeling of excited anticipation sparked within them.

“I don’t know the details yet! We have to hurry, though, she said they’re waiting for us!” Hattie said as she finally let go of Cait’s wrist, keeping pace ahead of her teammate.

***

After a few more minutes’ worth of running, the duo stopped in front of the precinct to find Sardion already waiting outside. The streets were vacant except for the trio, with the building’s windows darkened and Yuen nowhere to be seen.

“Okay, so… where’re we going?” Hattie chirped, bouncing on her heels as Cait took a minute to catch their breath.

“Out to the Manju-Shage District.” Yuen answered. “It’s a long shot, but we might pick up a trail out there, if nothing else.”

“Manju-Shage?” Cait asked. “That’s a pretty long way from here.” Their legs weren’t suitable for a mile-long run and such a walk, with only a five-minute breather.

“Don’t worry,” Sardion said. “We’re taking a ride.”

A sound of a whirring propeller overhead caught the two students’ ears. They glanced up to see a compact Sailship descending from above them, lowering itself beside the trio to hover just above the pavement. It was noticeably smaller than the transport Sailships that the city police usually flew, but it looked to be big enough for the lot of them.

“Might as well get there in a bit of style, eh?” Sardion said, hopping into the cabin. “Climb aboard, you two.”

“Where’s Detective Yuen?” Cait asked as they hoisted themselves in. “Wasn’t she the one who called up Hattie?”

Sardion jabbed a thumb at the cockpit, and Cait turned to see Yuen sitting in the pilot’s seat.

“You two got your weapons and everything?” Yuen asked, turning to speak to them. “I don’t want to waste any time.”

Hattie nodded, her grin brimming with excitement. “Locked and loaded, captain!”

“Detective Captain,” Yuen replied, feigning amusement. “Well, at least you’re enthusiastic about this. I’ve never seen anyone this eager to check out Manju-Shage.”

“Hey, where’s Rudyard?” Hattie asked, realizing the man in question was nowhere to be seen. “Wouldn’t he want to come along for this?”

“No idea where he is,” Sardion said, shaking his head. “We tried to get through to him before calling you, but he left his Scroll in my office. I left behind a note for him, just in case he comes back to look for it.”

Yuen cleared her throat, turning back to the sailship’s controls. “Alright, guys, hang on to something— I’m gonna take us up.”

With a rush of wind and a roar from the engines as the propellers sped up, the sailship slowly rose into the air, sailfins gently undulating up and down as the vehicle ascended.

“Whoa…” Hattie uttered in breathless awe, never having experienced a ride so high before. “I can see the whole city from up here. If it were lighter, I could probably see Lake Matsu from here… this is so cool.”

“Mmm.” Cait hummed in apparent agreement, looking less interested than the former.

Sardion cocked an eyebrow at Cait’s uncharacteristically morose behavior, but chose to say nothing of it. He brushed his hand against the handle of his weapon, holstered in its pistol form inside of his jacket. While his gut feeling more or less indicated this excursion would be as inconsequential as the past seven days, he couldn’t help but entertain the uneasy thought that something would end up going wrong.

At least nobody said ‘what’s the worst that could happen’, he thought to himself. ‘...Wait, damn, does that still apply if you think about—’

“Don’t get too comfy,” Yuen called out over the noise of the engine, interrupting his paranoid inner monologue. “We’ll be there in ten minutes tops.”

***

To the two of them, the simple act of killing was an easy task, and a depravedly enjoyable one at that.

The art of assassination was not, nor was it particularly fun— especially when it involved multiple targets. The job called for sleepless nights, long boring stakeouts, the painstaking task of ensuring any kills had no trace of evidence, and comparably squalid living conditions in hideouts.

While they weren’t exactly the neatest duo for such a profession, they had tried their best. The two had always preferred making their kills nice and personal, one of them in particular relishing the opportunity to savor every dying breath.

Suffice to say, neither had much regard for the mess they tended to leave behind. This time around, however, they had been given specific instructions to leave no trace.

“I gotta admit, the plan you had to clean up those two loose ends wasn’t half bad. Still doesn’t look like anyone’s caught wind of us yet.” Nest observed.

She stood atop a stump of concrete on the edge of a dilapidated apartment block’s roof, her partner sitting on the ledge beside her.

“If we’d kicked down both doors like you suggested, the whole Mistral City police force would be breathing down our necks right now.” her partner said. “You see, Nest, you should think sometimes about focusing on your brain rather than your brawn. Then again, since you don’t even have a Semblance, that’s not saying a lot.”

“…You calling me dumb, Moira?” Nest asked, bristling slightly.

“No, I’m calling you unreasonable and impulsive, because you always want to fight without thinking about your next move.” Moira retorted. “But if you want to call yourself dumb, I won’t argue with it. Just remember that you said it, not me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re just jealous ‘cause that tongue of yours isn’t all that useful. At least I can fly, froggy!” Nest hissed.

“Whatever you say.” Moira said. “Dumbass.”

“RRRRRRR—!” Nest growled, the metal wings fused to her back scratching together as she rounded on Moira, razor-tipped feathers glinting dangerously in the moonlight. “Say that again, I dare you! I double-dare you!”

“Calm down.” Moira said, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, your whole thing about ‘leaving them alive just to toy with them a while’ nearly cost us big. What are you, a housecat with anger issues? You remember as well as I do what Faine said about these two.”

“Tch.” Nest glared at her, folding her wings in reluctant acquiescence. “Fine, whatever. Any update on where we’re supposed to go with the kitty cat yet?”

Moira shook her head. “You know, if I’m being honest, I still can’t believe that we found them.” She leaned back, letting out a long sigh of disbelief. “It’s been so long, and just when we least expect it…”

“Mmmh..” Nest mumbled. “Boss’s still being too soft on them, if you ask me.”

“What, the whole thing he said about not hurting them?” Moira asked. “You make it sound like you didn’t expect it, but you know as well as I do how much they mean to him.”

Nest threw her hands up, growing more exasperated the more she thought about it. “Goddamnit, Moira, he hasn't shown me a tenth of the kindness he has to them for the last eighteen years, and here I am, ready to die for him! Cait… that little bastard’s got an ungrateful streak half a mile wide. That's why I never cared much for them, you know?”

She shook her head in disgust. “I just can’t stand anyone who won’t stand by their own.”

***

Cait hunched over in the cabin, their elbows on their knees and their hands holding their head as they stared at the metal floor. Their chest felt painfully tight, and butterflies were practically swarming in their stomach.

“Are you okay? Even without my Semblance, I can tell you’re not feeling well.” Hattie asked Cait, the latter sitting alone in the center of the sailship. “You’ve got ‘anxiety’ written all over you.”

Cait looked up, a bit surprised that Hattie had noticed. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a bit stuffy in here, that’s all,” they said. 

Hattie pouted. “I’m not dumb, Cait— it’s a chilly night, and we’re in an open-door sailship.

“If you want some air, maybe it’s best for you to come closer over here.” Sardion added, pointing at a seat next to the edge of the cabin where the windstream was stronger.

“I said I’m fine.” Cait said, a bit more emphatically. “Seriously, don’t worry about me. It’s just… jitters or something.”

Hattie and Sardion looked at each other. “Okay, just... don’t freak out, okay? We’ve got this.”

Cait nodded, looking down again.

While it eased up slightly with the pair’s reassurances, the knot in their chest remained as the sailship drew above Manju-Shage. It was a feeling of dread they had felt before, and it had been a long enough time since they did that the sensation felt almost foreign— but still, they knew it all too well.

It can’t be him. Not here, of all places… there’s no way he could have found me so soon…

***

“You see that?” Moira said, pointing up at the sky.

“Of course I see it.” Nest snapped. “What’s a sailship doing out here at this time of—” She froze in the middle of her sentence.

“What?” Moira asked, turning to her partner. “What’s the matter?”

“Hold up.” Nest motioned to the open cabin, squinting. “Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or is that… Sardion Sarikaya? And… the kitty?”

“That— oh. Oh, that’s just wonderful.” Moira said, displeasure clear in her tone. “If he’s here, then that means he and the baldy already narrowed it down to here. I knew that we didn’t cover all of our tracks.”

“Stop whining, Moira, don’t you see how good this just turned out for us?” Nest said. “We’ll be killing two birds with one stone. Kill Sarikaya and whatever sidekicks he brought along, sedate the kitty, fly ourselves back home in grand style like we were never here in the first place. I’m telling you, it’s the perfect opportunity.”

Moira raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth to rebuff her partner before pausing. “I could dismantle any tracking device that’d be on that ship… and we could scrap it once we touch down.” After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, Nest. Let’s play it your way.”

***

“Whoa… this place is super gloomy.”

Under the sailship’s floodlights, the bright blue accents of Hattie’s dress stood out from the dilapidated grays of the decrepit Manju-Shage District. Yuen had opted to land the sailship dead center in the ruins of the abandoned city expansion, in a small area where a park likely would have stood. The grass around the perimeter was clumped and overgrown, neglected yet still alive.

“It’s a shame this wasn’t even finished.” Sardion said. “Would’ve been a nice place if they’d gone through with it, but now it’s just a big waste.”

“Speaking of, pay attention to your surroundings.” Yuen said, a shotgun slung over her shoulder. “Sometimes a Grimm or two make it in here, but never anything the police can’t handle. What I’m worried about is the squatters.”

“Squatters?” Sardion said.

“Yeah. We’ve had a few times where some thugs from the Hana Guild or the Spiders decide to drop in and lay low if they’ve made trouble in the city.”

“They ever killed anyone before?” Sardion asked a bit warily. “Given who it is we’re looking for…”

“No,” Agave replied. “There’s a first time for everything, though, so stay alert.”

***

“They’re coming closer, froggy.” Nest called down to Moira, beating her metal wings to keep herself level as she hovered a few meters above her partner.

“How many?”

“Four in all. The leader, the detective… the kitty… and their teammate.” Nest replied. “So what do you say? Who gets who?”

“I’ll deal with the grown-ups, you take the children. Look, just try not to hurt them too much— he won’t be happy at all if you do, and I’m not taking the blame on your behalf if you screw up.”

“Fair enough.” Nest said, landing beside her, a tense note of excitement in her voice as she furrowed her wings. “When do we start?”

“Patience, Nest. Let them play around a little bit more.” Moira said, flicking out her serpentine tongue. A single fleck of spittle dripped from a polymer barb on the end, and landed on the concrete below. It hissed for a second, then melted right into the stone, leaving a penny-sized crater behind.

Her lips, pocked and distorted by scars and welts, curled into a predatory grin. Several stories below, the quartet from the sailship entered the apartment block.

“Oh, this is going to be ever so fun.”

[nsheetee]

Physics Teacher!Doyoung x Art Teacher!Reader

Genre: High School Teacher AU, Enemies to Lovers AU || fluff, slightly crack-ish

Summary: Doyoung is ecstatic to start working at his first job in Neo City High School... until he runs into you, the eccentric new art teacher that quickly gets under his skin. When you and Doyoung are forced to chaperone the Valentine’s Day dance, you have to put all of your differences aside in the name of stopping high schoolers from grinding on each other and protecting the fruit punch from being spiked.

Word Count: 3k

a/n: happy birthday to the bunny prince! I hope your bday is filled with love, and cheers to the future! also, I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

doyoung loves school

always did: as a child, in high school, and in college

he honestly loved to learn and was studious, his parents always bragged about his grades and long high school resume filled from top to bottom with achievements and scholarships

but doyoung was glad to finally hold his college diploma in his hand, marking the end of his student days and signaling the beginning of his professional career

as a high school teacher

many of his friends warned him that teaching in a high school would be draining, that it would kill doyoung’s spirit within the first school year 

doyoung didn’t listen, his friends have never been teachers so what could they know?

he walked into his very own classroom on teacher prep day, a few days before the actual first day of school

he breathed in the musty smell of old carpet and the sharp tang of dry erase markers 

ah, yes, perfect

doyoung neatly arranged his desk; his favorite fountain pen had to be exactly 10cm from his computer keyboard and the computer monitor had to be facing up at a 19 degree angle so doyoung wouldn’t have a double chin while looking at the screen

yes, he did use his trusty ruler and protractor to measure it all out, and then neatly placed them into the top drawer of his desk 

doyoung has always been tidy, very articulate and precise

what else would you expect from a man who studied math and physics for five years?

just before leaving his room to meet with his boss, the principal, he’s startled by a knock on his door

you stand at the entrance to his classroom, a bright smile on your face and your hands clasped in front of you as you bounce on your toes

your outfit consists of a long, dark orange skirt that nearly touched the floor and teased the sandals that are strapped to your feet

you wore a bright yellow shirt with a short blue scarf wrapped around your neck, some wooden jewelry laying on the scarf and also dangling from your ears

doyoung is sure his mouth is open in disbelief but he can’t seem to regain enough control over his face to hide his surprised and mortified expression

“hi! you’re kim doyoung, right? the new physics teacher? I’m Y/N.” your voice is chipper and bright

“are you in the correct place, ma’am? this is neo city high school.” doyoung asks 

you tilt your head slightly, wondering why he’s asking such a question

“oh!” you exclaim, moving your wooden necklace and blue scarf out of the way to show doyoung your teacher badge, “I’m a new teacher this year, just like you! I thought I would come say hi.” 

doyoung is sure his mouth is, once again, slacked open 

looking down at himself, he sees a very big contrast in what you look like and what he looks like

doyoung wears a crisp white shirt that’s buttoned all the way up, a blue tie around his collar and his own teacher badge perfectly centered in the middle of his chest

he ironed his slacks this morning and even shined his shoes

is this not the dress code for teachers at NCHS?

he’s sure he read the dress code section of the teacher’s manual, stating that professional attire is required

but as he watches you dance into his classroom from his desk chair, skirt swinging around your legs, curious eyes glancing all over his room... he’s not sure what to do

should he tell his superiors?

he doesn’t get to think much before you sigh and close your eyes, holding out your arms on either side of you as if you can feel some nonexistent wind pass by you

“wow, you have such a nice classroom. the windows and the view, I wish my classroom was open like this.”

“may I ask... what class you teach?”

“art” 

doyoung immediately does not like you

maybe he’s a bit biased (okay, very biased) but he has never liked art

the atmosphere of an art class is not his cup of tea

why are there no written rules for art?

why was he always instructed to “paint with your heart and soul, not your brain”?

why did his high school art teacher scold him for drawing the golden ratio for every single assignment if there are no rules!?

it’s the only C doyoung ever received and, yes, he’s still salty about it

“oh. my. goodness.” doyoung is pulled out of his path down memory lane by your exclamation 

you stride over to his desk, finding a seat next to his computer and accidentally moving it with your hip

doyoung gasps when his perfect 19 degree angle is ruined, and his hands come up to grip the hair at the back of his head when you pick up his favorite fountain pen, turning it over in your fingers

“uh...” doyoung trails off, not sure how to politely tell you to get away from his stuff

“I love this pen!” you exclaim, “this is a Monteverde, isn’t it? wow, I never expected anyone else to appreciate good quality pens, especially not physics teachers.” 

your comment flies over doyoung’s head, he can only focus on how you keep annoyingly clicking the pen and randomly drawing on his clean sticky notes that he placed exactly 17cm from the edge of his desk

in what feels like only seconds to doyoung, you draw an intricate lily on a sticky note and stick it to his computer monitor 

haphazardly dropping the pen back onto his desk, you hop off and wave at your fellow co-worker as you walk out of the room

doyoung can only stare at the mess you left behind; you were only in his classroom for a total of three minutes and yet, it looks like a litter of puppies were let loose 

doyoung’s distaste for you didn’t end there

once school started, he could see the increasing amount of students that absolutely loved you and your art classes

he heard about how you walk around in flip flops and sandals, even when the temperature started to drop outside

he heard about your habit of humming jazz while painting, tapping your foot and bobbing your head along to your own music

he over heard students talking about how you’ve never once worn the same set of jewelry, and betting on how many different sets you actually have

doyoung isn’t sure why he’s so intrigued by you; you have absolutely nothing in common and doyoung doesn’t understand your eccentric way of living

but the universe keeps pulling you to each other

for example, how you both come to school at the same time, punching in for work on the same minute, awkwardly giving your “good morning’s” to each other before you go to your respective classrooms

or how you both have your break during 3rd period, and go to the teacher’s work room in the office to grab a cup of coffee and whatever delicious pastries the office ladies brought in that day

even when you both run the after school clubs (doyoung helps run the robotics club, you help run the art club) you’d somehow bump into each other despite the club rooms being on opposite sides of the school

other than the first day you met, doyoung has no reason to be angry with you

but he is, for some reason he can’t get you off of his mind, and it’s infuriating

maybe doyoung is infuriated because you don’t seem to be affected by his presence in the same way that he’s affected by yours

he always pushes that thought out of his mind, but today, when you’re both called to the home economics room, it’s more apparent than usual

you’re already talking to mr. lee when doyoung walks in, your smiling face and comfortable posture with your co-worker makes that fire in his stomach ignite, and he just wants this to be over with as quickly as possible

“ah, doyoung you’re here, great! I have a favor to ask both of you” mr. lee, or ten as you both know him, rests his elbows on the desk and clasps his hands in front of him, “I need you two to chaperone the valentine’s day dance tonight”

“there’s a valentine’s day dance tonight?” doyoung asks and ten sends him a deadpanned look

“yes? it’s been on the morning announcements everyday this week”

doyoung crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks away, a bit embarrassed that he’s been caught not listening to the mandatory morning announcements

(doyoung always wears crisp dress shirts to work, and you about die when his arms bulge through the shirt with his actions, his chest seeming to stretch wider than the ocean and shoulders looking as solid as a rock)

(maybe you gulp a bit, and maybe you try not to pant at the sight, also)

“didn’t you tell me that you and principal moon usually chaperone the valentine’s day dance?” you ask, moving your attention away from doyoung’s chest and turning to ten

“yes, we do, but this year mr. moon’s wife surprised him with a dinner date and he says he can’t let her down”

“and why can’t you chaperone?”

“my cat went into labor”

you and doyoung look at ten with dead stares, trying to comprehend ten’s words

ten scoffs and rolls his eyes, slamming his palm down onto his desk

“well? is no one going to congratulate me? I’m going to be a grandpa by the end of tonight!”

“congrats...” you mumble out, “but I’m sorry, I can’t chaperone tonight.” you try to quickly think up of a valid excuse as to why, but nothing of value comes to mind

“yeah, neither can I” doyoung speaks up, turning around to walk out of the room

“wait” ten speaks up, making doyoung turn back to face both of you, “if I remember correctly, I covered for both of you when you couldn’t show up to the bi-yearly meeting last month. you both owe me, and this is how you’ll repay.”

you and doyoung visibly sulk in your spots

it’s true, ten did cover for you when you couldn’t go to that important meeting, and by the look on doyoung’s face, it looks like ten has him trapped, too

so that’s how you and doyoung end up at the gym after school, watching the student council committee set up all the decorations and the dj set up his equipment on stage

the theme is “love under the sea” 

doyoung cringes when he saw the banner reveal over the front of the gym, and you can’t help but wince at the overused theme

the decorations are lovely, though; different shades of blue lights glow from the the ceiling and cast a blue hue to everyone below, the stage is covered in blue tinsel and large balloon figures of seashells, crabs, and mermaids

even the drink and snack tables have underwater themed cookies and chips, with large bowls of blue fruit punch centered on every table

so far, chaperoning is easy; you and doyoung have to make sure no one gets hurt and that there’s enough helium for the hundreds of balloons that were blown up and are currently rolling around on the floor

but then, students start to arrive

ten assured you and doyoung earlier that no more than 100 students would show up the whole night; groups of people would come in and out for the three hours that the dance would be going on

but of course, tonight is the night that everyone decides to come to the dance

although the student council is having the time of their lives with the amount of money they’re receiving in ticket profits, yours and doyoung’s eyes bulge at how over 100 hundred students are already waiting in line to enter the gym

“wait, wait” you run towards a group of girls who just paid for their tickets, “you have to take your shoes off before going in”

“why?” they give you an almost disgusted look, and you entertain the fact that you have to look up at them to look them in the eyes

“your heels could scrap the gym floor, please take them off” you look down at the girls’ shoes, confused on how they can balance on such tiny leverages 

“but, it’s part of my outfit” you give the girls one long, hard, blank stare until they roll their eyes and step out of the heels, immediately shortening themselves by four inches and walking away

doyoung’s night also doesn’t start out smoothly....

he walks into the boy’s bathroom, hoping to relieve himself before the dance actually got underway, but instead is frightened by a pair of students playing tonsil hockey against the urinals 

“mr. kim!” they shout and doyoung covers his eyes and turns away, for some reason feeling like he’s in the wrong even though the public restroom is not supposed to be used for making out

“the dance started 10 minutes ago and you’re already doing that!” doyoung shouts and the students apologize, heads bowed as they scurry out the door

about an hour into the dance, you and doyoung finally find each other through the chaos of the school gym

“either ten lied to us or today is just an anomaly; there has to be at least 300 students here right now” doyoung tries to speak over the music, but you still have to lean in to hear him

“we need to call other teachers to come help, it can’t just be the two of us here.” you reply, but doyoung barely pays attention

you face is leaning into his, but your sporadic eyes and looking somewhere else 

the blue hues of the lights shine off of your cheekbones and permeate through your hair

doyoung thinks you look good in blue, and he could keep looking at you for a while longer

until something behind you catches his eye

“oh, no...” doyoung trails off, and you look turn around

in the middle of the dance floor, right in front of the dj’s speakers, a swarm of students gather around and you can faintly see through the dim lights of the gym that a grind circle ensues

“oh, no...” you mimic doyoung as the group of students “dance” to the music, almost gyrating and squirming against their partners

it’s almost too painful and awkward to watch

doyoung makes the first move to separate the circle, trying to push his way through, the swarm of students stick together like a group of flamingos; they’re so congested that it would be easier to move through a vat of molasses

the teens stick to each other in their dance moves and you feel sorry for doyoung who tries to yell “no hands on knees. I said DO NOT PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR KNEES” at the crowd, the music swallowing him up

as you watch on, your eyes latch onto a group of guys who surround one of the drink and snack tables

you would’ve overlooked them, but the way they’re suspiciously eyeing their surroundings makes you curious

you walk closer, only to see one of the guys carrying a shiny flask, holding it upside down over a punch bowl

“woah, woah, woah, what do you think you’re doing?” you call out as you march closer, frightening the group of students 

“nothing, we’re just getting a drink.” maybe if you didn’t see them pour alcohol into the punch bowl earlier, you would be fooled by their lies, but you give them a disappointed look

“really? that’s why you have a flask on you?” you ask the student with the alcohol, and all of their eyes widen into dinner plates

the night only erupts into more chaos after that

you and doyoung never have enough time to stop and call ten or any other teacher to come help you, too busy dealing with teenage antics

at one point in the night, “under the sea” plays, and you and doyoung are pulled into a conga line of students as they travel around the gym, and someone from the yearbook committee snaps a picture on a polaroid camera

as the night comes to a close, students leave to go home and the gym floor becomes visible once again

you sit against the wall, holding the polaroid in your hand and silently smiling at yours and doyoung’s surprised expressions, his hands on your shoulders and a bad, red flash in both of your eyes, only adding to the candidness of the whole scene

doyoung slides down next to you and hands you a cup of the spiked punch, which you had moved to a different room after you reprimanded the boys who spiked it

“for me?” you ask as you accept the cup

“yeah, I think we both deserve it for dealing with tonight” you and doyoung do a silent cheers and hit your plastic cups together before downing all the punch

“wow,” you cough a bit, placing a hand over your mouth “high schoolers don’t play around, huh” you look at the cup, wondering exactly how much alcohol was in it before setting it down on the floor, deciding not to think to much about it

the dj was hired from 7pm to 10pm, and although doyoung’s watch says it’s 9:57pm, the dj still plays songs even though only you and doyoung are here to listen to them

“this is for the chaperones tonight,” the dj suddenly speaks into his microphone, “you guys did a good job.” 

a slow song starts to play, you and doyoung don’t recognize it, but doyoung laughs awkwardly at how you’re both put on the spot, even if there’s no one here to witness it

“well, let’s dance, doie.” you stand up and hold out your hand to him

maybe it’s the energy and confidence from the alcohol, or maybe this is something doyoung has always wanted to do, but he takes your hand and guides you to the dance floor

your hands rest on his shoulders and you try not to feel giddy at the thought of finally getting to feel them after looking on from the distance for so long

you blush at your own thoughts, or maybe because of doyoung’s hands traveling around your hips and pulling you closer to him

for a minute, you and doyoung just sway a bit

the music is nice and the blue hue from the lights makes doyoung’s eyes and skin shine, you can’t pull yourself away from him

“you know, I’ve actually never been to a school dance before.” you don’t know what possesses you to say it out loud, but doyoung’s eyes widen at your words

“me, too.” 

at that moment, doyoung realizes that maybe you two do have something in common

and as you lean your head against his collarbone, humming the already familiar melody of your first song of your first school dance ever

doyoung knows he doesn’t mind getting to know the parts of you that aren’t that similar to him

it’ll be worth it