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baka-bakeneko · 9 days ago

Text

Give Yourself Peace

John Wick x Fem!Reader

tags: NSFW, MDNI, John Wick 2 storyline, slightly inaccurate John Wick, strangers to lovers, awkward first meet, knight in shining muscle car type, slooooooooow burn [then we fast af], reader is a vet tech type, descent into darkness/Underworld, adventures in dog sitting, age gap, references to Hades/Persephone mythology, flirting over text [or in John's case, just conversing], clothes on sex, cowgirl position, panties to the side, sliiiight voyeurism [if you squint], not a condom in sight-just the vibes, fingering, multiple org*sms, feelings of grief, shower sex, slightly toxic John Wick [he doesn't mean to, he's grieving], pillow talk, use of g*ns, hostage negotiation, talk of animal de*th and instruments involved, Charon/Winston/Santino/Dog involvement, possible relationship talk, attraction to "bad" men, making out in a car, quickie sex

synopsis: You meet a man named John Wick when he's dropping off his dog "Gunner" for a check up. From there, it's a slippery slope into a new world.

wc: 19. 7 k 😮‍💨

a/n: okayyy, yes, i did write this before finishing that one River Ward fic but this idea took me by storm in the dead of night. No I was not listening to my River Ward playlist when I thought of this, jeez what's with the third degree? my computer is actually trying to die on itself as i type this rn

You raised a brow at the man entering the clinic, wearing a red-stained dress shirt and tattered suit jacket.

"Hi," he began, walking up to the front counter as you straightened up before him.

"Hi," you repeated, meeting his dark eyes and internally wincing at the cuts on his face.

He was stoic, un-moving as he braced a hand on the counter. But his lips curled slightly in a smile. His hand slid, his forearm bracing the counter as he relaxed.

"Hi," he said again, this time his deep voice echoing through you. You couldn't help but return his polite smile, edging up on your toes to finally look down at his pet.

"Who do we have here?" You asked down at the beautiful dark gray pittie. The dog sat, tilting his head at you and you melted an inch staring into his cute light brown eyes.

"This is..." the man looked down at his dog and tilted his head with a loss of words. You raised a brow at him, waiting as he turned to look at you again with a slightly defeated look. "Gunner."

You huffed an amused air from your nose. "Cute, he looks like a Gunner."

The man nodded as you rounded the counter and took a careful knee before the pittie. "Is he friendly?"

"Absolutely." He barely managed to answer as the dog turned in the direction of you and started nuzzling into you.

His paws pattered the floor, stepping further into you and begging to be pet. You obliged, cooing at the attention-seeking pup, patting at his round body and scratching behind his ears.

You smooched at him, showering praise at this stranger's dog for a minute then looked up at the stranger himself. He was propped up on the counter, watching you love on his pet, with what you recognized as blood on his dress shirt.

"And is Gunner's owner friendly?" You cooed at Gunner, holding the dog's face in your hands to smush his cheeks.

The stranger scoffed, his lips curling in a wry grin before answering: "Gunner thinks so."

Your stomach fluttered at the stranger speaking, though you weren't sure if it was an instance of fight or flight. Meeting the stranger's dark eyes again, you quirked your mouth to the side.

"Does Gunner's owner have a name?" You asked, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth at the last moment.

"He does," the stranger answered as you slowly stood up from your place. His hand extended out for you to take, and you noticed his knuckles tattered with blood and swelling. "John."

You ignored whatever warning pang was rushing through your body as he introduced himself. Your hand reached out to grab his, minding your grip to not bring him pain. When you uttered your name, his smile only grew, finding himself pushing upright to tower over you.

"Nice to meet you." John said, his voice straining a bit.

"Same to you," you said, giving his hand a polite shake before dropping it and returning to your paperwork. "What're you bringing Gunner in for today?"

You stood outside of the clinic, circling through your ring of keys to find the one for your door. It never failed, with how many keys you had, it was always the last one you expected.

You bounced on one foot to keep yourself alert, filing through your keys in the unexpectedly cool night. You were already running late to meet up with friends and now you were battling your stomach rumbling.

As you were nearing the end of your key leash, you heard a few whistles from behind you. A cold ice jutted down your back, making your insides become rigid with the thought of being watched.

Still, you ignored it as best at you could, pretending to not hear whatever calls were over your shoulder. Your bouncing foot quickened, hoping you had found your out before whatever approached you.

With the final key try, you managed to lock the door and turn in the direction of your car only to be stopped by two tall men stood before you.

You excused yourself, backing away from them only to turn around to find two more men behind you. Staring at the men surrounding you, you glanced sideways into the street and stepped out.

"Where you goin' sweetheart?" One of the men called after you.

You held the strap of your bag tighter on your shoulder, your senses heightened as you heard the combined steps of the men crossing into the street.

You picked up your pace, scanning down both ways of the road with minimal cars around, only for their steps to heighten just the same. The rigid gulp that lodged in your throat was now cementing, your heart racing as you found yourself running across the street and onto the opposite sidewalk.

Your vision tunneled as you focused on getting away, unsure of what would happen if the strange men caught up to you. Turning down the perpendicular street, you barely glanced behind you as a car pulled up next to you.

The door swung open, over half of the curb, and you were almost stopped by it but managed around it. Looking at the car, you cautiously peered from a distance to see a slightly more familiar face than the strangers following you.

"Come on, I'll drive you to your car," John offered, his mannerisms unbothered and cool.

You looked behind you at the group of men now turning the corner after you. With another glance into the car, you saw Gunner and opted to take a chance with the slightly better devil you knew.

Climbing in, you shut the door quickly and looked over your shoulder at the goons left in the wake. You turned around to John, ready to share your gratitude but opted to catch your breath first.

You wheezed, holding the dash of the dark muscle car, and held your free hand to your chest. The instant adrenaline rush through your body was now wracking your heart, making your eyes water though you were unscathed.

"Are you alright?" John asked, one hand draped on the steering wheel and his other carefully cradling the gear shift.

You overly nodded, blinking away the mist of tears while your mind started to race with the horrific possibilities of what could've happened.

"T-thank you," you choked out, bringing your eyes away from John's dash to look at him. "I-I..."

John glanced over at you but said nothing else, only nodded in acknowledgement before changing the subject. "Your car's nearby?"

You nodded again, finally peeling yourself to sit back in the leather seat. You admired it for a moment, luxuriated by the curve and plush, but were interrupted by Gunner's wet nose to your ear.

You giggled, shrugging a shoulder up to get the dog to stop then reaching a hand back to pat his head. "Sweet boy."

John smirked dryly at your comment, slowing down to scan the two parking lots on either side of the street. "Here?"

You nodded, pointing to the right side of the street to your little rinky-dink car. "That's me."

You expected John to laugh at it, seeing as his car could literally drive circles around yours. But he didn't, only pulled into the lot and braked in front of it.

"Volvo's are a classic," he commented, gearing his car to remain stationary. He shifted slightly in his seat to face you.

You turned to do the same, noticing that he'd probably gone home to clean up and change; seeing as he was in a cleaner shirt, the blood on his knuckles nonexistent.

"Have a good night, okay?" He offered, meeting your eyes.

The adrenaline in your body pooled in that moment, making you feel jittery though you were pin still. You nodded again, wondering if you were nodding too much.

"Thanks. And thanks again for the ride, I appreciate it," you said quickly, unsure why your nerves were acting up now.

"Yeah," John drew out, looking at the back of his car, past Gunner and through the back windshield. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded again, noting that you'd have to force something out. "Y-yeah, of course. I just don't know what their deal was. I'll be fine."

John's eyes skirted back to you, taking in your shaken demeanor with a once-over. "If you want, I could give you my number. In case it happens again."

He didn't want to mention how fast he'd be to escort you, but he was aware of his speed.

You held your hands in your lap, glanced down at them then back. "S-sure, it wouldn't hurt."

John watched as you carefully retrieved your phone and nervously unlocked it; turning the bright screen to him, he cradled the device and tenderly put his phone number in then turned it back to you.

You looked at him from your screen then back and saved it to contacts. "Thanks."

John said nothing else, only nodded; you gathered yourself, pulling your keys from your bag and opening the door to get out.

"Bye Gunner," you offered to the dog, reaching to pat his head. "Good night, John."

You climbed out of the car, tenderly shutting the door after yourself as John offered a polite wave through the front windshield. He geared his muscle car in reverse, throwing his arm behind the passenger seat to look behind and turn back onto the road.

You stood in the silence, watching as John drove off with your adrenaline in tow. Your heart pattered with a new sense, unsure of what to call it, but you stashed it away to rush to your car.

You found yourself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, in the middle of the night. Deliciously buzzed by two cocktails, you replayed the moments of the days events.

Hot stoic man walks in, hot stoic man has a dog, hot stoic man saves you from not-so-good guys, hot stoic man makes you feel safe.

You blinked slowly, your phone clutched in your hand while you tried to fall asleep. In a shock of embarrassment and a little confidence, you launched yourself upright and swiped your phone open.

Navigating through your phone, you managed to pause at the draft stage of sending John a text.

-Thanks so much againn for saving me tonight

You stared at your message for a moment, wondering if you should add more but decided against it at the last moment. You watched as the bubble popped up at the beginning of the thread, with the small status of the message as 'delivered'.

You sat still for a moment, your eyes threatening to close but in a long blink, your message went from 'delivered' to 'read'.

You froze, a new warmth starting from the inside of your chest, as your phone flopped onto the bed before you. You barely had the second to think of sending a 'i'm so sorry' text at realizing how late it was.

John: Is that what that was? I thought it was a friendly ride

He hadn't been able to sleep, finding himself at the Continental bar with 'Gunner' at his feet. John fingered around the rim of his glass, expecting the whiskey to dull his nerves but found himself brought back by your text.

You grinned dumbly at his response, snickering to yourself before gearing up your response.

-You're right. Thank you for the friendly ride to my car

You stared long at this response, wondering if did any good for the conversation. If this was even a conversation. You sent it anyways, but added further.

-I'm just thankful you were there when you were

John stared at his phone, glass cradled against his bottom lip as he stared at the messages that came in. His heart cinched for a moment, wondering if he was taking it too far. But it was a simple text exchange, nothing more.

John: I am too. Good night.

He paused in his message, feeling it to be too curt. You were just sharing your gratitude, nothing more. John understood, having felt the similar way of feeling cornered.

"Having a nightcap, are we?" Winston asked, sidling up behind John's seat.

"Winston," John stated.

"Jonathan," Winston offered back, pulling a chair open and sitting down. "I'd have expected you to be in bed already. Preparing for your long trip."

John glanced down at his phone, the open conversation between the two of you left on his end. "Yeah, but what can I say? Nerves got to me."

Winston quirked a brow in John's direction, tilting his head slightly at the sight of his phone upright. "There's no such thing as nerves with you."

John took a sip of his whiskey, letting it be his pause before he smacked his lips in appreciation.

"What is it?" Winston asked, undoing his suit jacket button.

John set his glass down on the bar and circled it under his fingers. "There's a girl."

"A girl?" Winston repeated, raising his eyebrows in slight surprise. "I fear I've heard that before."

John folded his lips together as he nodded, knowing that he'd said it a long time ago. "Yeah."

Winston took John's response with a purse of his lips, a tilt of his head. "So there's a girl."

"A woman," John corrected, turning his head in Winston's direction but not meeting his friend's eyes. "And I want to keep her safe."

"Then it's best not to interfere," Winston offered without a beat missed.

John found himself agreeing, but still opened his mouth. "I can't do that."

Winston's eyes steadied on John's stoic face, watching as his dark eyes finally rose to meet his. The older gentleman opened his mouth in a soft 'ah' then sucked his teeth in consolation.

"What're we going to do, then?" Winston asked, straightening up to the bar and raising his hand in a silent order to the bartender.

John picked up his glass again, sloshed the diminishing liquid around then pursed out a hard air. "I have an idea."

You managed to stretch yourself out at the foot end of your bed, holding your bright phone before your face while you tried to hold off of sleep.

There was no reason for John to respond back to you, especially with the time. You imagined that you had woken up this poor, tired man with diathesis just hours after getting home.

And you groaned in your sleep, feeling awful. With your next minute spurt of energy, you'd apologize to him for waking him up so late.

However, the buzz of your phone steeled you awake. You blinked at the bright screen before your face, eyes focusing on the message you received.

John: I am too. I know this is sudden, but would you like to get breakfast?

In the misty morning, you stood on the curb in front of your apartment building under your umbrella. You were patiently waiting for John to show up to take you to breakfast, hoping that it was the Greek diner just a few blocks from your job.

After a few moments, you expected a text from him saying you two would have to reschedule. It was only a matter a time, something you assumed was in the New York air. Plans were never fulfilled, always to be rescheduled.

Your inner plight was paused by the black, unmarked car that pulled up before you. Your reflection in the tinted windows was perplexed, taking a few steps back to assess your escape.

The driver side door opened and a well-dressed man wearing rimless glasses stood out and buttoned his jacket. You waited a moment, taking in the man's movements as he reached for the back door of the car.

"Miss, I've been sent by Mr. John Wick." The man announced, holding the back door open for you to get in.

You stared at the man for another moment in silence, pondering if you ever learned John's last name. You questioned if this man was trustworthy, even though he gave no reason to not be.

"Okay..." you drew out, looking both ways down the empty sidewalk before stepping cautiously towards the car. You folded your umbrella, setting it on the car floor.

You reluctantly climbed in, your nerves raising on their ends as you sat down and buckled your seatbelt behind the driver seat.

The driver smiled politely at you, shutting the door firmly before unbuttoning his suit jacket and climbing into the driver seat again.

He adjusted his mirror, buckled his seatbelt then geared the car into drive and turned on his veering signal. You held your hands in your lap, letting your bag slide to the empty space next to you.

"How do you know John?" You asked, attempted to fill the silence and calm your nerves.

The driver glanced back in his mirror after veering back onto the street, meeting your eyes with his polite smile reaching his gaze.

"Mr. Wick is a regular guest at my hotel." He offered, which didn't ease you very much.

You grinned cheaply at the driver, then let it drop. "Oh, of course."

You assumed, by John's paperwork for Gunner, that he lived nearby. You turned to look out of the tinted window, trying to map the area you were driving into.

The driver continued, "I am the concierge of the Continental. Mr. Wick has done a lot of work for my hotel."

Your raised your brows at that, glancing in the direction of the rearview mirror to meet the driver's eyes.

"My name is Charon," he finally introduced himself, hitting his turn signal down a caddy-corner street before stopping at the corner before sleek, marble stairs up to ornate glass doors. "Mr. Wick will see you inside."

You flinched as your door opened with a bellhop standing quietly on the sidewalk. Charon nodded after you, with you unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing your bag and umbrella.

You stood under the bright awning of the hotel as the bellhop shut the door, leaving Charon to drive around the curb to park the car. You held your umbrella under your arm awkwardly, righting the strap of your bag as you took in the darkening sky of the morning.

"Miss," the bellhop instructed, holding his crisp gloved hand in the direction of the dry stairs.

You politely smiled, then walked up to the front door only to be greeted by yet another bellhop. Maybe you should've stopped when you got out of the car, feeling that each step you took brought the warning pangs back.

It felt like a distracted descent, the quiet luxury and decadence of the hotel drawing you in though it felt hostile just the same. The bellhop at the door guided you in the direction of the seating area, where patrons were gathered at white tablecloth tables in front of floor-to-ceiling windows to enjoy their breakfast.

Your heart continued to race as you walked through the lobby and into the seating area, feeling particularly under dressed compared to everyone else around you.

John sat at the table, with Gunner sat next to him, sipping at his black coffee. His eyes were trained at the doorway, glancing at his watch to track how much time he had left to spend in your presence.

Your eyes scanned the room before finally stopping at John. He was dressed in a cleaner suit, his hair combed away from his face and drinking coffee.

He paused in his drink, almost rushing to stand as he rounded the table to pull out your seat. You rested your umbrella on the arm of your chair then sat down, looking up at him with a smirk.

"What'd I do to deserve this?" You asked, allowing John to aid your seat under the table.

"N-nothing," John said, reaching to smooth down his hair as he sat down. "Just wanted to talk."

Your smirk turned into a smile, sitting up straight as if trying to perform for the hotel itself. John breathed in deeply, taking in your demeanor before calling the waiter over.

"Would you like some coffee?" John asked.

You nodded, holding your hands in your lap only for them to be occupied by Gunner's fat snout. You grinned down at the pup, scratching behind his ears as the waiter approached with a pristine cup, pouring into it with a shining french press.

"You know, when I was imagining what you did, I never imagined it was tied to this," you commented as the waiter set your cup down before you, then offered a fresh cream pitcher to the table.

John quirked a brow in your direction, taking another sip to punctuate his next words carefully. "You were imagining what I do?"

You gulped and paused, realizing that you had said your inside thought out loud. "I mean, I do for a lot of people. Mostly just walking by," you sheepishly offered in reason.

Staring across the table at this stoic man, you were reminded of staying up even later after you finally told him good night, picturing his face as your hand rested on your chest.

John gave away nothing, his eyes still while he mapped the soft expression on your face. He bit inside his lip noting the minute flush of your cheeks, how you shifted in your chair.

He scoffed in amusement, letting your excuse slide. "What did you think I did?"

You shrugged, reaching for the cream and pouring it into your coffee cup. You sprinkled in sugar from the decor bowl in the center, then used your own spoon to stir it together.

"Your paperwork said 'retired'," you began, another internal strike with bringing up your interested reading of his and Gunner's papers. "I thought you were maybe ex-military."

John's smirk lifted. "Something like that."

He leaned back in his chair, not wanting to puff his chest in pride. He had to remind himself that this was temporary again, the mantra in his head repeating over and over.

"Have you always wanted to work with animals?" John asked, deflecting the conversation from digging any deeper.

You remembered Gunner's head in your hands, looking down at your lap to playfully mush his face. "Kind of. I love seeing all of their sweet faces. I'd hate to see them in pain though, so it's the best and worst at once."

John couldn't help his trained stare on you, as you bowed your head to pet and praise at Gunner. He knew he was taking things in an odd direction, but he thought that it'd keep both of you safe at once.

"So, that's part of the reason I asked you here." John added, sitting upright as his hand braced the table. "I'm going out of town for work, about three days, and was wondering if you could watch Gunner for me."

You raised your head, immediately meeting John's eyes. "You want to leave him with me?" You metered your question, though you were excited for the opportunity to watch such a sweet dog.

That, and maybe you wanted to do the hot stoic man a favor. Whatever that was, your heart fluttered at the thought of doing what John asked. Even though you didn't know anything about him, even though he came in looking dangerous and was now portraying a clean slate.

It felt that he was the bright sliver in the imposing building, even though it was all cast in the rainy shadows. You were confused, your head almost done in by your survival bells ringing though you were still approaching the 'yes'.

John nodded. "Yeah, but here."

You leaned forward, unsure if you heard him correctly. While you hadn't thought of what your landlord would say about bringing pets back to your place.

John spared a chuckle at you, genuinely amused by your response. With a shrug of his shoulder, he leaned back again.

"I received a comp for my room, so I'd like for you and him to stay."

You stammered, freezing to think of what to say before shaking your head. Your eyes darted around the large darkly painted walls, ornate paintings and decorations nothing to what you were accustomed to.

"John, I mean..." you weren't sure what to say, knowing this wasn't an invitation to stay with him. "That's very generous."

His face softened, dropping his hand from the table to tilt his head at you. "Please. You'd be doing me a big favor."

Your mouth opened to argue him further, but John's expression was un-moving. He was still stoic, no indication that his offer had strings attached. Even with the atmosphere of the place itself, you found yourself caving.

"It's just a few days, right?" You reassured him, and yourself, by asking.

John's face broke, finding himself smiling again. His cheeks were beginning to ache, realizing that it'd been a while since he smiled so long.

"Yeah, of course. And they have in-house breakfast and dinner, a transit service that you can use to get to work." John noted, hoping that you'd take advantage of it all just to keep you safe.

"I can use it to go to work too?" You repeated, looking down at Gunner than back at his owner. "Can I take him to work with me?'

John's nose scrunched. "If you want, but I'm sure Charon would be able to check in on him when you're gone."

You nodded, looking down at Gunner again before reaching to sanitize your hands. "I think I can do that."

"Good," John said, pulling the menu up slightly to glaze over the menu. His eyes glanced to his wristwatch, knowing that he was losing time to make it to his flight.

Still, he made no quick effort to speed up his breakfast with you. You looked at the menu on the table, your mouth watering at the options available. Of course they were were gourmet, nothing short of the place itself.

You looked up from the edge of the menu, taking in more of this stranger's presence before speaking up. "What was the other reason?"

John froze for a moment, unfortunately caught off-guard by your question. His eyes still scanned the menu, trying to keep his expression at a minimum though his mind was now doubling back on his words.

He wryly smirked as he finally drew his eyes up to meet yours. "Just wanted to check in from last night."

John stood awkwardly before the front door of the Continental, wondering what the polite way to depart from you was. You stood before him, having to tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes. He was taller than you remembered, though you were taking him in while on your knees petting his dog.

"I have to go," John offered, reaching his hand out to brace your shoulder. "I'll let you know when I land."

You smiled, nodded. "Okay, and we'll be here. I hope you have safe travels."

John squeezed tenderly at your shoulder, feeling how fragile you were under the weight of his hand. He felt a soft weight off of his mind, knowing that the Continental was a steel trap for any unwanted guests.

His smile softened, dropping his hand to pet Gunner's head. "Good dog. Behave."

And at that, you watched John leave, raising your hand to wave after him before turning to Gunner.

"Your daddy's gone," you pouted, reaching to pat his thick back. "I guess we should get you upstairs."

"Allow me to escort you," Charon chimed in, silently approaching you from behind.

You flinched, sucking in a harsh air between your teeth. Charon offered an apologetic look to you, his hands clasped behind his back.

"My apologies, Miss. Allow me to escort you and Mr. Gunner upstairs," he offered again, waiting for you to regain yourself.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, shifting your umbrella under your arm then waved for Charon to lead. He carefully reached his hand out to take your umbrella, holding it as he led you to the elevator then handed it off to one of the bellhops.

"That is the Miss's. Please do not get them confused." Charon stated, calling the elevator button then holding his hand out for you and Gunner to board first.

Inside, Charon hit the 8th floor button, the antique number lever slowly raising from its resting place as the elevator lifted.

"So, you know John well?" You asked, unable to help yourself.

Charon lifted his chin, looking over his shoulder to you. He offered his tight smile, the same politeness as before. "I'd say so."

You nodded, mentally chewing on his short answer before thinking of another question. "How long has he worked for the hotel?"

Charon's lips changed into a smirk, noting your inquisitive nature. "Approximately 20 years."

Your eyebrows raised then, realizing that John had been working around the time you got your first pet. You folded your lips together, feeling your heart flutter while trying to decipher what that meant.

"Oh, so how long have you worked for the hotel?"

Your curiosity was beginning to get the better of you, each bit you were fed only bringing up more. The further you got from the ground level, the lighter you felt away from the depths.

Whatever darkness was harnessed in the lobby, the foreboding rattling snake vibe it gave, did not reach the upper levels. The elevator opened to the ornate, older decorated walls of the hotel.

The floors were carpeted in a sleek line design, the wallpaper an almost unnoticeable fleur design.

"Long enough," Charon said, chuckling at his own joke.

You spat out an amused air, following the concierge to the room. He stopped at the room at the end of the hallway, fishing into his suit jacket to retrieve the key.

Charon turned the lock, propping open the door for you to enter. You paused just inside the room, taken over by the view of the city from wide windows at the crest of the room.

The ornate decor was not scrimped in the room, seeing through the carved accent wall before walking around it. Gunner traipsed through the room, jumping onto the crisp white sheets of the large bed and sighing like he'd had a rough day.

You looked to Charon, who nodded into the room for you to take it in. You took your time walking through the hotel room, taken aback at the quality. Sure, you'd been in nice hotels before, having stayed in some with accrued loyalty points.

But this felt like a new feeling. It was strange, feeling swayed by the elegance of this hotel being used for you, to watch a pup that didn't seem swayed either way.

Pausing at the wet bar, you wanted to pull out your phone to take a picture just to show your appreciation for John's minimal effort. But looking back at Charon, he straightened his lips and exited the room.

When he left, you rushed to the window to look out at the city. Even with loyalty points, it never bought anything like this. You couldn't help yourself, pulling out your phone to take an overhead view of the city before setting your bag down on the accent table behind you.

You rushed around the room, looking at the other cool parts of the triangle-shaped room. Gunner was unfazed on the bed, resting his head down with a groan.

You had to stop yourself in the bathroom, gasping at the oversized mirror with the bright light inlaid inside the reflective surface. Watching such a good boy was not worth this treatment.

Still, you took a picture of yourself in the mirror, scrunching your nose and sent both to John at once.

-Are you sure about this?? Is there something you're leaving out?

John boarded his charter, retrieving his phone as it vibrated in his pocket. The smile on his lips was subconscious, seeing that you'd messaged him.

Opening his phone, he chuckled at the two photos you sent him. He read your message, finding himself lightened at the scrunch of your face in the mirror.

He paused before his seat, finding himself regretting boarding for the nth time since he left the hotel. John thought of what he would do if he went back, if you'd stay around and keep him company on the sacred grounds of the Continental.

John turned and sat, crossing his ankle over his thigh as he typed a response to you.

John: Oh, I did forget. He's a bed hog. And he likes to steal bacon off your plate. So watch out.

You sat on the bed, staring at the text thread between you and the stoic stranger. You smiled at his response, ready to send another text as soon as you retrieved it.

John: I made it to the plane. I'll let you know when I land. I can't thank you enough for this.

You nipped at your inside lip, wanting to thank him back for the outrageous accommodations. Wanting to thank him for breakfast. Wanting to thank him for his company.

-Okay, safe travels. I'd love to see where you're going.

John's smile remained, staring at your response as the ladder was pulled up and the engines turned on. He exited out your text thread, searching through his contacts to find another number.

"Jonathan," Winston answered on the third ring. He sat in the smoking lounge, with Charon approaching to report. "We have Persephone in the Underworld Palace."

John's jaw grit, attempting to skew the view of you having your own free will. You had the freedom to leave, he had to remind himself, though he wanted you to remain on the neutral ground.

"She showed me," John offered in response, feeling the palpable silence on the opposite end.

Winston and Charon shared a knowing look, with Charon raising his chin and checking his watch.

"Are you sure about this?" Winston asked.

John looked out of the small window to his right, sitting back in his seat as he thought of how long it'd take for him to return to the Continental grounds.

"It'll give me time to think of my next step," John said, reaching to buckle his seatbelt with one hand.

Winston sucked at his teeth, tilting his head in deep thought. "You're dangling her over the pond, Jonathan. Are you sure this is the safest thing you could think of?"

John pursed his lips, shutting his eyes for a deep breath. "I'll be done as soon as I can. I can figure it out from there."

Winston raised his brows in Charon's direction, who shook his head in response. "Safe travels."

Upon ending the call, Winston exhaled deeply and directed to Charon. "Make sure our young Miss and her companion are cared for. Don't allow her exit without escort."

Charon barely widened his eyes, pulling his hands behind his back, ready to execute his orders but Winston raised a finger. "And invite her to dinner on the roof. The four of us. For Jonathan's sake."

Charon nodded. "Of course, sir."

You stood in front of your closet, having been escorted back to your apartment by Charon and Gunner.

The concierge extended an invitation to you and Gunner to join the owner of the Continental for dinner. Apparently he was a close friend of John's and wanted to meet you, as it wasn't often John extended invitations to "outsiders".

You would definitely ask about that as you cycled through your clothes, wondering what dining with the manager fell under for dress code. Everything else was just thrown haphazardly to you weekender bag on your bed: clothes for work, some leggings for taking Gunner on walks, anything for comfort because you felt that you would step outside of the hotel room for anything other than work.

When your bag was packed with your toiletries tossed on top, you turned back to your closet to contemplate your dress code.

For a high-class hotel, you opted for a white long-sleeve dress with a built in silk bodice. It'd suffice, you shrugged, because it was your best dress in your closet. You paired it with your most comfortable flats and stuffed it all on top of your bag.

You grabbed your phone charger from the wall then rushed out of the door, making sure everything was off in your apartment. You carefully took the stairs down to the front door, throwing it open to Charon carefully waiting outside of the car for your return.

Gunner poked his happy face out of the driver's side window, staring at other onlookers in silence. You shut the door firmly behind you, grabbing your key to lock it after you.

Charon straightened on his feet, opening the back door of the car while his other hand extended to grab your bag.

"You don't have to--" you tried to argue on holding onto your bag in the backseat, but Charon was firm in taking the straps of your bag.

In a fluid motion, he shut the door after you righted in the backseat then went around the back of the car to open the trunk. You glanced after him, seeing that he didn't linger behind and closed the trunk then returned to the driver's door.

Gunner moved over to the passenger seat, that window open as well, as Charon geared the car into driver and veered back onto the street.

"What's your manager like?" You asked.

Charon glanced in the rearview, his polite grin ever present in his eyes.

"Mr. Scott is an old-fashioned type. Cordial, gentlemanly, with a taste of finer things."

You pursed your lips, looking out of the front windshield, then Gunner. When you looked back at Charon, he was once again fixated at the mirror, expectant of your next question.

"Should I...shape up?" You asked, aware of every movement you were making at that point.

Charon chuckled again, which you were unsure if genuine or sardonic towards you. "I believe you will be fine, miss. I think that Mr. Scott will enjoy your company and questions."

Your lips flattened in a slightly embarrassed smile then turned back to the window. "I'll start thinking of more now."

John paused by the bar of the Rome Continental, steadying his nerves before his mission. He had to remind himself that it would be this would be the last.

Even with the taste of being back, John's mind flashed with the thought of you. He choked on his sip of whiskey, clearing his throat while he stared at the crystal in his hand. Helen.

His mind flashed with the thought of Helen. John blinked, remembering his ring and circling it on his finger. When he felt his chest begin to heave with a new wash of grief, he stifled it with a long pull of his whiskey.

Just as his phone buzzed on the bar. John set the crystal back down, staring at the notification of your message and remembering that he meant to inform you of his landing.

Opening his phone, John was greeted with a photo of you sat on the bed with Gunner sat beside you. You were dressed in a short white dress, the bodice reflecting soft light as you leaned over his dog and hugged his head against your chest.

-We're having dinner with Mr. Scott, hope you made it wherever safely.

John felt struck in his place, staring at the photo in the growing thread of your messages. His heart skipping a beat before he finally picked up his phone to respond.

John: I made it safely. Never knew Mr. Scott extended dinner invitations, you must be lucky.

He looked through his entirely empty photo gallery to share the photo of the Colosseum from his plane window. John sent the message, let his phone clatter to the bar again as he sat back in his chair.

The rushing thought of you instead of Helen made him go askew, knowing that it was wrong to do. He grit his teeth, shut his eyes to remember his late wife's smile and not yours.

This was not what he wanted to happen, hoping to keep you at an arms length but still close enough to be safe.

You stared at your phone as Gunner jumped down from the bed, reading and rereading John's message before staring at the crowded overview of Italy from his plane window.

You zoomed in on the photo, staring at the Colosseum as the flattest fixture amongst all the little buildings, all of it resembling a miniature map.

John pushed himself up from his chair, pocketing his phone as he left the room with determination. He wouldn't be distracted by any feelings, regardless of who they were for, tonight.

Charon knocked gingerly at the door, alerting Gunner to the noise. You slowly stood, straightening out your dress and stashing your phone in its pocket then met the concierge in the hallway.

"This way, miss," Charon stated, starting in the direction of the elevator as before.

Inside the elevator car, Charon turned over his shoulder to look at you. "That is an elegant dress. You look very nice."

You smiled, practically beamed and offered your thanks; you pulled your textured hair behind your shoulder then looked down to Gunner.

The elevator lurched to a slow stop at the top of the hotel. The doors slowly opened to a long hallway, decorated the same as the others, with double glass doors that led out to a concrete patio.

Charon held the door open for you and Gunner, allowing the two of you to step onto the hotel roof patio. The view of the city was surrounding half of the balcony, with a larger building blocking directly beside it.

Your eyes fixated on the black glass patio table, decorated with an ornate black runner and four chairs. At the head of the table, you acknowledged the older gentleman as he stood up.

He approached you carefully, allowing you to take in that he exuded opulence and class, noticing the gilded pocket square in his dark suit jacket.

"Bonsoir chérie," the gentleman offered, gently taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips in a ghostly peck. "My name is Winston Scott, it is nice to meet you."

You smiled politely at him, tilting your head at Mr. Scott. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Scott."

Winston carefully dropped your hand, his face playfully scrunching in offense. "Nonsense, call me Winston."

Your smile twitched further genuine, forfeiting your nicety to agree. "Okay. It's nice to meet you, Winston."

Winston winked at you, then guided you to your seat at the other end of the table. "You look radiant in that dress. I can see how you caught John's eye."

You giggled nervously, watching the older man pull your chair back. Turning your back to him, you tucked your dress to the back of your legs then sat down as Winston aided your chair to the table.

Winston returned to his seat at the opposite end of the table just as Charon pulled a chair for Gunner to sit to your left then rounded to sit to your right.

You looked at the good boy sat at the table, waiting patiently with his mouth open. You couldn't help but snort at the image, thinking that you should've found him a bowtie so he could've fit in for the dress code.

As Winston sat down, he waved a hand to direct the waiter over to the table. A tall martini glass filled close to the brim with an orchid colored liquid. The liquid held a light shimmer as you shifted the glass closer to grab; your eyes narrowed, looking at the beaded garnish at the bottom in a clump of red seeds.

Just as Winston and Charon received their drinks, the hotel manager raised his glass. "Salud."

You took careful hold of the thin-stimmed glass and raised it from the table, repeating Winston's cheers before bringing the drink to your lips. It was bubbly and light, sweet and tart at once.

From the bottom of the glass, you watched the garnish break apart and you opened your lips to ingest a seed with a gulp. When you were satisfied with your sip, you rested the glass back on the table then savored the taste as the seed slipped down your throat.

"Good cocktail?" Winston asked, smacking his teeth to savor his martini.

You nodded, shifting the glass to your left. "Is that cherry? Almost a shirley temple?'

Winston chuckled, shrugging a shoulder up before setting his glass down. "Close. It's pomegranate."

You hummed, letting the palette of the drink reignite on your tongue with that new knowledge. Charon looked over to Winston, sparing a slightly amused shake of his head.

Winston shrugged fully then, entertained by his own theme. "What is it you do, my dear?"

You straightened in your seat, looking over to Gunner enjoying his lap bowl of water then at Winston. "I work for a vet clinic, very small. That's actually how I met John."

Saying it aloud and remembering the timeline, your mind rushed with how fast things moved. You blinked slowly, your heart stumbling in your chest at remembering John a day ago compared to now.

Winston raised his brows: "Oh?"

You nodded and continued. "He brought in Mr. Gunner here for a check-up."

You reached to pat Gunner's head and he panted happily in your direction. Another soft wave of shock went through you, remembering what he looked like when he came into your clinic.

He should've been off-putting, and yet...

Winston tilted his chin, pursing his lips in intrigue. "Gunner, huh?"

You almost ignored Winston's comment, meeting his interested gaze from across the table.

"And he drove me to my car that night," you added finally, remembering with the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You had a nightmare about those men last night, one only fought off by your stoic man in a muscle car. Tightening your jaw, you reached for your drink and wet your lips again.

"Hmm," Winston offered after a moment, turning to Charon for any input.

The concierge was quiet, his own lips pursed in slight interest. Winston smirked waywardly, straightening up to brace his elbows against the table.

He carded his fingers before his mouth, staring across the table at you and wondering what it was that made John choose you.

"Jonathan always has had a soft spot," Winston said after another beat of silence.

You couldn't help your grin again, hearing John's full name. You imagined him as a younger Jonathan, introducing himself as such and Winston never letting it go.

"How long have you known John?" You asked, replacing your glass back to the table.

You realized you were dependent on your drink, noting the glass close to finished. All the garnish was sneakily slipped down with the liquid, leaving the sparkling drink to reflect the encroaching moonlight.

The patio overlights turned on, banishing the darkness and shadows from the area. Your nerves, charged since entering this place, were now directed to performing for John's cohorts.

Not that you needed their approval, you wanted to prove to yourself your etiquette. The nervous inkling in the back of your head was growing louder over the lush warmth, telling you that Winston and Charon would report back to John with their findings.

And you sat back in your chair to come to terms with why you cared. You did like John, but bit your tongue. There was no reason to go forth and ruin something as innocent as a friendship.

Winston chuckled, dropping his hands to the arms of his chair. "Since...he was a young man. Over twenty years, at this point."

You hummed, raising your brows as you looked between the two men across from you. You almost wanted to ask how old John was, the thought making you giggle behind your fingers.

"So a long time, then. Doesn't show for you, Winston." You commented, smirking playfully across the table at the older gentleman.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear," Winston offered, lifting his glass to you and taking another sip.

With that, dinner was served and a plate was placed carefully before you. The seasoned smell of the marsala tickled under your nose and made your stomach engorge with hunger.

The sweet liquor was only making it worse, opening your mouth to drool at the elegant layout of your plate. You glanced over to Gunner, who was fed steak tips on a plate and heartily cleaned his bowl.

Your eyes dragged across the table, to see Charon and Winston staring at you in wait. You smiled politely, allowing the waiter to set a black cloth napkin on your lap before stepping back.

You thanked him, picking up your fork and knife to inspect them a moment before cutting into your chicken. The echo of silverware followed, with Charon and Winston cutting into their food and eating in silence.

You eagerly wanted to call John to talk about this dinner afterwards, but knew it would be better to wait for him to call first.

John sat down to catch his breath, exhausted after yet another night of fighting. Did he enjoy this? Sometimes he had to ask himself, seeing as how he kept going through it. He sat forward in his chair in the lobby, shuddering as adrenaline worked out of his system.

The longer he sat, the more pain that came onset. He winced as he sat back, feeling that he'd bruised a rib from falling through the Roman Continental window with Cassian. John slowly pushed himself up to his feet, approaching the front desk to request his passage home.

He went up to his room, returned back downstairs and awaited in the lobby for the first sign of daylight to make his way to the hotel.

In the meantime, John retrieved his phone and turned it on. When it cycled through, he expected a message from you.

He expected a message from you, especially after dinner. John thought of what awful stories Winston drummed up to entertain you without giving too much away. His top lip peeled back in an embarrassed scowl, already hearing Winston talk about a young Jonathan.

John thought of sending you a message, but thought of the time in New York. He wasn't even sure what he'd say to you. He wanted to ask about dinner.

So he did.

John: How was dinner with the infamous Mr. Scott?

You were escorted back to your hotel room floor as your phone vibrated in your skirt pocket. Gunner rushed up to the door of the hotel room, baring his teeth in a low growl as you stopped to grab your phone.

-Delicious, who knew Winston was such a gossip.

John raised his brows at his phone buzzing again, this time showing Winston calling him.

"Winston," John greeted, sitting back in his chair while his eyes fixated in the direction of the sunrise.

"Jonathan, she's a delightful little sprite. I am not surprised why you're taken with her," Winston offered, carefully taking his stride to the elevator after letting you be excused first.

"I'm sure you've entertained her," John offered, actively ignoring his mentor's comment while his stomach sank.

"She's great at listening, Charon said she was full of questions." Winston looked over his shoulder to his concierge, who shrugged. "Am I off-putting to questions, Jonathan?"

John noised in response, stashing a slight grin. "I wouldn't say that. Maybe Charon is more...approachable in general."

"That is why I hired him," Winston said, pushing the call button for the elevator. "Has she contacted you?"

John scrunched his mouth to keep from reacting, knowing that Winston could hear his lies. "Not yet. I'm sure she's had a long day."

Winston scoffed over the line, stepping into the elevator and motioning for Charon to hit the button for your room first. "I'm sure she has. She seems to fit here, in a sense."

John grit his jaw, stashing the sudden jolt of fear through him. "I'll be home tomorrow."

Winston quickly gave up, nodding at the line. "Bueno notte, Jonathan."

John pulled his phone from his ear and ended the call, receiving your text soon after.

Gunner stood on guard before your front door, nosing at the crack while you waited for Charon to arrive with your key. You stashed your phone again as Gunner wedged himself through the crack of the door then threw it open with a slew of heavy barks.

You ran in after him, narrowly missing a harsh shove from a dark-dressed figure. They attempted to push past you and outside, but you threw a knee out to connect with their gut.

You were a rattled mess as the person fell to the floor, their face covered in a hood and mask. Looking around the room as they tried to crawl away, you grabbed at one of the ornate vases at the entryway and threw it at their head.

Still, they moved and you stamped your foot onto their back as Charon turned the corner with Winston behind. You were frozen, putting more of your weight on the stranger's back as Charon finally assessed the situation and ran to the room.

"My dear, are you alright?" Winston asked, standing aside as Charon picked up the burglar and dragged him out of the room.

You stared fixated after the stranger, your body trembling as your breath was shortened. You heaved, unsure of what you were but aware that you once again could've been hurt.

That if Gunner wasn't around, you would've been attacked. You were stiff, even as Winston touched your arm.

"Come now, let's go downstairs, hmm?" Winston offered.

You barely nodded, feeling your eyes sting with the threat of tears, and Winston guided you to the elevator. Gunner followed suit, leaving Charon to clean up.

John: Let's hope its all good things. I'm leaving first thing in the morning. Let's do lunch.

You sat in the smoking lounge, curled up on the leather couch while Winston offered you a cup of espresso. He'd gone to his office and retrieved a decorative throw blanket to match the rest of the opulent hotel.

He carefully draped the cloth over your legs, allowing you to sit in stunned silence as he sat in the leather chair next to you.

Winston mapped your face, wanting to find the inside of the shock. He wondered if you would question why the person appeared, or for what. But when you gave off nothing, he gave up and sat back as he received a message about John Wick.

Followed by a number, with a lot of zeros. He stashed a gulp, straightening his chin as he glanced over to you again.

"I apologize, my dear, but I urgent business to attend to. Charon will be here with you."

You nodded, bringing the small cup up to your lips for a sip. The instant bitter brought you out of your flight mode, looking after Winston before Charon took his seat before you.

"W-what happened to that person?" you asked, never catching if that person was a man or a woman. You wanted to ask more, but were sure that no answers would help.

Charon sat tall and stiff in his chair. "I phoned the police and they have detained them at the station," he lied, though his face gave no indication.

You shuddered, looking down at your espresso then back. "Did they take anything?"

"No, miss. All of the hotel's belongings are accounted for. I can't say the same for yours, but we can assess that when we change your room."

You knitted your brows in concern. "You're moving me?"

Charon blinked and smiled politely. "If you wish, miss. We would like you to feel safe."

You looked back down, nodded in agreement to his statement. But you didn't feel that the room was tainted, unsure if it was tattered looking for something.

"Is...is the room still intact?" You asked, bringing the espresso cup to your lips again.

Charon nodded once. "It is no detriment to move. It would be the floor below."

The more you thought of it, the dark shadows of your room would be the same on any floor. The new room would only call for the next stranger to slither in. You shook your head.

"No, I'll be fine," you said quickly, setting your cup down as Gunner sighed, resting his head on your thigh. "He'll keep me safe."

Charon glanced to Gunner then back. "He is a good guard dog. He should be employed."

The night went on too long, with you stationed in the smoking lounge to nurse your espresso. Your nerves, despite the coffee, eventually calmed with Gunner finding his temporary bed on the leather couch.

Charon sat with you in silence, allowing you to regain yourself until you were ready. Finally, you patted Gunner's back, waking him then moved to stand.

You threw back Winston's throw on your arm, grabbing your empty espresso cup to return to the bar. Charon took the blanket from you, folding it as he walked you out of the lounge.

He handed off the blanket to the bellhop, leading you and Gunner to the elevator and escorting you upstairs to your room. It hadn't occurred to you how much time had passed, the smoking lounge offering no clock or windows to acknowledge it.

As the three of you ascended, and you found yourself lightening once again the further you got from the ground floor. The trudge back to your room was quiet, with a bellhop stood outside of your door.

"Please let us know of any missing items," Charon offered, holding his hand out for the bellhop to open the door. "If you have any concerns, do not hesitate to alert this kind gentleman."

You glanced to the bellhop, who stood astutely in the corner of the hallway. You looked to Charon and nodded. Charon opened your door and held the door for you to enter, and you took careful steps inside.

The room was untouched, with only the entryway vase missing. You sucked air between your teeth, hoping that John wouldn't be charged for the decoration missing. Charon handed off your room key, letting the door shut after you.

When the door was closed, you kicked off your flats then walked cautiously around the room. Every lamp in the area was turned on, leaving no shadows. You exhaled deeply and sat down on the bed.

You rested on your side, staring over at the bar of the room as Gunner jumped onto the bed behind you. The curtains were pulled to hide the windows, leaving you in the warm glow of the lights.

Slowly, you let the events of the day lull you away to sleep but not without a few startled jolts to double-check the room. Soon, you conceded and drifted off, curling into yourself to keep yourself safe.

You woke up with another jolt at the sudden brightness of the room. The lamps of your room were shut off, the curtains drawn back to show the bustling city and the sun bouncing off of the nearby bridge.

Your eyes curled around the room until you were frozen by the dark dressed figure at the side of your bed. Slowly, your eyes drew up to meet John's scraped face, his hair combed back his ears.

You broke then, rushing up from your place in bed to curl your arms around his neck. You shuddered into his shoulder, your bottom lip pouting as you shut your eyes.

John barely recognized how long he'd been watching you sleep, knowing that it was wrong to do. But he was gauging his next moves.

His attempt had done nothing to keep you safe; his eyes looked around the room, seeing it as a ruined castle. When you hugged him, he was shocked out of his thoughts.

John folded an arm around your waist, holding you against him but not with his full strength. He knew it was better to keep you at an arms' length.

He'd failed you and Gunner, leaving you both in the security of what he imagined as powerful but was now realizing less.

You squeezed closer to him, steadying your breath the more you held on. John shut his eyes to breathe you in, stiffening as he realized his action.

He turned his face into your neck, unable to control himself, and breathed against your skin. Your chest tightened, the warmth of his breath rolling down your body.

Slowly, you turned to meet his cheek, finding your mouth parting in a soft pant. John found himself pulled in further, turning to meet your mouth and lean in to kiss you.

Your hand raked up his neck to clutch the nape of his hair, barely letting the moment be taken as mistake, and kissed him feverishly.

John's hand slid down your back, over your hip to grab the back of your thigh and pull you further into him. His eyes squeezed shut, following the efforts of your lips before taking lead and slipping his tongue in.

You groaned into him, your other hand grabbing at the front of his suit jacket. John pushed down the dull pain in his body, letting all other thoughts take backseat as his lust took over.

Gunner whined, making both of you part in a soft pant. John dragged his eyes from you then to his dog, shaking his head once.

He guided his dog to the front door, opening it to the bellhop. "Would you mind taking him on a walk? I think I've got it from here."

The bellhop nodded, calling after Gunner as John lightly shooed his dog to follow him. After the two were down the hallway, John shut the door and locked it before returning to you.

You thought he'd have regained himself in the moments away, returning to your friendly charade before breaking for brunch. But John resumed at your lips, his hand clutching the back of your thigh before folding you across the bed.

You were overcome with his touch, hazy with the rush. Your hands found their way into his hair, the other at the buckle of his belt as you slowly followed his lead.

John bit back with a hiss, feeling your fingers fumble at his waist. His hand went to cradle your cheek, kiss you deeply, before retracting his hand to grab your wrist.

He slid your fingers further down his waist to acknowledge the urgent swell of his cock. Both of you parted from your kiss in shock; you glanced down your bodies as John stared down at you.

He was approaching an edge he'd never imagined again, his body alight with heat. You shifted up on your side, attempting to roll onto John. However, John's knee shifted onto the floor and turned at the foot of the bed, pulling you onto his lap as he faced the window.

You straddled his waist, your knees on the carpet as you looked down at your hand still rubbing his cock. John stared up at you, his eyes dragging down to acknowledge the open shoulders of your dress.

He carefully reached behind you, unzipping your dress to peel the top of your bodice down, revealing your breasts. You shuddered again, your chest heaving at the sudden cool of the room.

John leaned in to catch your lips again, guiding your hand to undo his belt and pants. The two of you shared a few desperate moans, finding yourselves drawn together.

He freed his cock with a part from your mouth. He attempted to find his words, to ask if this was okay for you two to do. John knew they were careening to something both unavoidable and difficult to walk back from.

You rested your forehead against his, sharing his breaths as you shifted closer. With a lick of your lips, you tasted him on you; you reached under the skirt of your dress, peeling your panties to the side before lining up and sinking down on John's bare cock.

His face was gorgeous as it broke, his brows knitted as his mouth pouted, as if he were about to cry from the feeling. You sighed deeply in his face, your eyes lulling at the slow pop of his hot cock head into your wet pussy.

Your hand found its way into the nape of his hair as you sank down on his length, tilting his head back to ghost your lips before his.

John's tattered knuckles braced your hips, following your direction down onto him. He hissed, letting a moan slip from his lips. Consequences be damned, John thought, rocking your hips into him before ducking his forehead to your shoulder.

You groaned, turning your head back to the ceiling and following his hands rocking you into him. The two of you paused in relief, feeling the heat build between your bodies.

John brought himself back with a peck to your collarbone, then another as he crossed over your chest then down timidly lap at your velvety breasts.

He chastised himself for thinking of squeezing you, hardening his touch and speed on you. John knew that he'd break you eventually, but he'd stave off his darkness for the time being.

You worked up the courage to pull off of his cock, turning to moan into John's ear as you did. You barely made it to his tip, finding your core begging for him again and sinking back down.

John groaned, tilting his head back against the bed to meet your gaze. His dark eyes were dangerous, dark pools yet enriching and inviting. You took hold of his shoulder, working up to a slow ride as you leaned into him.

John trembled, unable to blink as you rode him in the morning light. He was overwhelmed with infatuation, a sickening salacity the more he spent under you.

He was reactive by you, whimpering and twitching as you rode into him, kissed him breathless. John felt that he'd met his match, an unbeatable adversary though he never wanted to cross you.

The sun haloed around your body, making your skin golden in his presence. John came back to you again, hearing your moans heighten as you were brought closer to climax.

You found yourself grinning down at John, seeing his eyes focus back on you. Your hand went to his jaw, then combed through his hair before resting at his neck. "Did I lose you there?"

John spared a blissed-out grin, parting his lips to catch your kiss again. He'd never admit it.

You cried into his mouth, feeling within grasp for your undoing. John hissed and kissed further into you, his other hand reaching under your skirt to touch your clit.

You bent your back into him, panting into his mouth with a cry of his name to follow. You felt the brightness of the room begin to blind you as you approached the edge; your hips rocked a little firmer, trying to pull John overboard with you.

Finally, you broke with a loud moan, twitching on John's cock as he bucked further into you and climaxed. You writhed on him, your fingers clutching hard into the nape of his hair as you tried to catch your breath against his mouth.

"John," you cooed, pushing yourself further into his body to chase his warmth.

He grabbed at your shoulder, attempting to still you over him as your walls begged for his cum. John shut his eyes upon release, snapping back into his conscience and realizing his impulse.

When you regained a bit of yourself, you spared a few amused huffs, pulling upright to meet John's gaze. You watched as his lustful eyes draw back and you combed through his hair.

"Hi," you said, humming at the stoic man against you. "How was your trip?"

John did his best to smile, pulling your elbow in to kiss your bicep. He dragged his lips up to your shoulder and kissed again. "Could've been better."

He didn't want to ask too soon about your night, having already heard from Winston. John knew it was dangerous to return directly to you, but he had to be sure.

And now he knew that wasn't the only reason. The two of you stayed in place for some time, taking in each other. John glanced over your shoulder to the widespread window behind you, noticing a glint from across the roof.

He held you still, staring further as his eyes narrowed on the long barrel of a sniper. John stashed a frown, turning back to you to appreciate you.

He was sickened by himself, seeing you as his shield for the time being. John exhaled, reaching down to tap your butt playfully.

"Why don't we close the curtains, call in some breakfast?" He asked, fighting against his racing heart.

You bit at your bottom lip, slowly pulling off of John's cock with a whine before turning and pushing to your feet. You grabbed the ends of the curtains and pulled them tightly closed.

John deflated against the end of the bed, looking down his battered suit. He was taken aback at how you mounted him in such a disarray.

You reached to unzip the rest of your dress, but was met by John's lips on your shoulder. You shut your eyes, soothed by the warmth of his mouth.

He slipped his hands down your arms, shrugging your dress from your body and leaving you in your panties, bare in the front of the room.

John shrugged off his jacket then circled his arm around your waist to direct you back to bed. "Go on, I'm coming."

You followed his order, climbing onto the bed and peeling the comforter back. John pulled his belt from his pants, did the same for his tie before unbuttoning his shirt and dropping his pants.

He hurriedly undressed, though you never saw any effort. He moved intentionally towards you, resting a knee on the bed then the other as he grabbed your ankle and pulled you back.

You stretched your arms out above your head, finding yourself directly under John. Your faces aligned, his eyes skirting over your face. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tempted at the corner of your mouth.

At the same time, his other hand circled around your stomach then down your hip before sliding his fingers into your wet pussy. You crooned, raising your hips to chase his touch and meet his body.

John kissed your chin, admiring the breaking on your face. He dragged his fingers in and out of you slowly, tracking every minute pinch and wain of your face.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, finding his words to not be his own.

John felt detached from himself, swirling a dark abyss of desire he hadn't thought of for a long time. You grabbed onto John's bicep, sucking in a breath between your teeth before moaning when his thumb folded against your clit.

"J-John," you stammered, your fingers clutching tighter as you found yourself fighting off another climax.

It was too late when you realized the bruises on his body, the wounds decorating his lean torso. Your mouth gaped with another croon, squeezing your eyes shut suddenly as you came on his fingers.

Warm rushes wracked through your body, causing you to roll further into John while you fought off the sight of his body being your undoing.

John's thumb at the corner of your mouth peeled back your bottom lip, flattening his finger along your gums. You pulled his hand further into your mouth to sensually suck at it before dragging it along your bottom teeth.

John was pulled further, the look in your eyes along with the feeling of your pussy around his fingers making it difficult to find pause. You licked the tip of John's thumb, dragged it down your body as he trailed his eyes after it.

His stomach sank then, his hand paused and flattened between your breasts. Staring back at him, as he felt your heart thrumming under his touch, was his wedding ring.

John's hand began to shake, staring at its placement against your body. You stared up at him, seeing that he was no longer meeting your eyes and was fixated at the placement of his hand.

He felt the room go askew, finding himself getting yanked out the abyss and washed ashore. John half-blinked, pulling his fingers out of you before climbing off of the bed and walking away to the shower.

You sat up on your elbow in John's wake, turning your head to watch him walk away. "John?"

You were unsure of what you did, if anything. But now, you were left bare. Righting yourself on the edge of the bed, you slowly followed after John into the bathroom.

John set his ring on the bathroom counter as he reached around the glass wall to turn on the shower head. He welcomed the silence for a moment, wanting to sieve through his thoughts as tangled as they were.

Stepping under the spray, John sighed and dropped his shoulders. He let the warm water roll over his body, drip down his hair as his muscles began to relax.

You stood at the door of the bathroom, watching John in silence before stepping up to the shower wall.

"Can I join you?" You asked softly, not looking up at him as if you'd done something wrong.

John waited a beat, shutting his eyes as he nodded under the rainfall spray. "Yeah."

You peeled your panties to the floor then stepped out of them and into the shower. You let the warm water dampen your hair, letting you slick it down between your shoulders as you turned your back to John.

The two of you shared the shower as if you were strangers still, the air palpable and dewy.

John raised his head and slicked his hair back, glancing over his shoulder to you. You wrung out your hair, turning under your arm to look at John and taking in his back tattoo.

You were taken in, turning around slowly to drag your eyes along his full back tattoo. You reached a finger out to touch at the center cross behind prayer hands.

John stiffened at your touch, his eyes overly blinking from the weight of the water on his lashes. You traced your finger around, noting the words between his shoulders without understanding what it meant.

"I was married before," John offered in the silent patter of the shower.

It was the least of what he wanted to say, his want for you and his feeling for his wife leaving him suspended in telling the truth. John swallowed, dropping his head to his side as you paused at bruise on his love handle.

"I still wear my wedding ring..." he admitted, his chest shaking for a moment, "it hurt to look at."

You paused dropping your head against his shoulder as your hand circled his side. "I'm sorry. You should've stopped me."

John straightened up then, turning around to face you. His tattered hands cradled your face, searching your eyes for an ounce of disdain towards him.

"I didn't want to stop..." John whispered, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours. "I...don't want to stop."

You let your eyebrows screw up in confusion, wanting to know what this stranger wanted. Because with learning more about him, you remembered again that he was a stranger.

"I want you," he muttered against your lips, tilting your chin to peck your lips, "to make it stop hurting."

Your heart lurched into John, feeling that he was saying it wrong but not wanting to dwell on it. You let your attraction give him leeway, letting him take your mouth again and soothe away your doubts in an instant.

You bowed into him, quavering as his hands slipped down your neck, then shoulders and elbows; he took in the slippery feel of your skin, admired how you molded into him this way.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, circling his fingers down to your hips and around the small of your back. John felt the swirl draw him back in, the taste of your mouth sickly sweet.

He bit away from you, hissing between his teeth as he tried to dampen the muddy thoughts within him.

You held your hands at John's sides, opening your eyes to witness the turmoil on his face. Your own stomach turned, lifting on your toes to kiss him again.

John nipped your bottom lip, pulling back on his hold to turn you around to the shower wall. He felt his vision tunnel on you, dragging his hand down between your legs to greet your pussy with his wet fingers.

Your nipples graced the cold granite of the shower wall, bracing with a soft gasp before John's fingers slipped into you. You rested your forehead against the granite, unable to hold back the moan lodged in your throat.

Your shoulders worked back, spreading your legs to allow John's touch further. John flattened his hand on the granite next to your face, lining himself up behind you.

He pulled his fingers out, using his hand to stroke his strained cock. John bowed his head, guiding his length into you and groaning at the welcoming warmth of your walls.

His hand went to your hip, gripping you tightly as he attempted to level himself. Your nose smushed against the granite, your mouth gaped open as you panted against the hard shower wall.

Your hand reached back to touch John but he took your hand and crossed it behind your back. He pumped into you once, earning another noise from you.

When he withdrew, your walls begged at his return; he pumped in again, making your knees buckle slightly.

John bent forward, kissing at the back of your neck before nipping at your shoulder. You turned, squishing your cheek against the wall to watch John's lips migrate down your back.

Your other arm folded directly before your chest, allowing the dampened air to coagulate in your lungs. John was slow in his pace, metering his noise to hear you echo against the stone walls.

His free hand reached around to ghost his fingers over your clit, allowing himself to get lost in the clench of your walls. John's lips trailed over the back of your shoulders, baring his teeth to nip at your skin.

He was painfully aware of how much he wanted to hoard you, to keep you stashed in this room with him with no end in sight. John knew he'd be able to to protect you alone for how ever long you wanted to stay with him.

The closer you got your climax, the more John became infatuated. Every moan of his name, he was dragged further into you, ready to use his resilience for whatever means to please you.

He pulled you off of the wall, draping your body against his chest; John's hands slipped over your wet body, pushing you further into him as you finally came on his throbbing cock again.

John lost his control, ducking his face into your neck to mutter his praise.

You rested your head on John's lap, staring across the bed at the breakfast tray by his feet. You tried to make yourself small in his dress shirt, wanting to take up as much of his warmth as possible.

Brunch had encroached into lunch, the Continental eggs Benedict turned into a nice club sandwich and fries.

John wanted to remain in the solace of the room a bit longer, knowing that he'd have to leave and face his consequences. As long as you didn't have to, John would task himself to clean up his mess better than before just so you wouldn't suffer.

He folded the newspaper in his hands around to scan the inside pages as Gunner sniffed in the direction of John's abandoned club.

You reached out to grab a few fries from John's plate, dragging them across the white comforter for Gunner to take.

John flipped to the next page, disinterested in the sports section. "I saw that."

You side-eyed Gunner then glanced up at John. "No you didn't."

John shook his head, eyes lazily dragging over the fine print of the newspaper. He looked so comfortable in this state, how you imagined he spent his Sunday afternoons at home.

"How long were you married?" You asked, feeling the comfortable silence grind to a screeching halt. It had plagued you since he mentioned it and no matter how many times John made you cum to keep you quiet, the question still remained.

John's eyes glanced down at you, his face never moving from the direction of his newspaper. His chest tightened at the question, feeling his ring finger pulse when you asked.

He relaxed his shoulders, folding his newspaper haphazardly before resting his hand on your shoulder. You shifted in bed, propping your chin up on the tops of your folded arms; John's hand migrated to the middle of your back, admiring how good you looked in his dress shirt.

He praised the tailor's choice for a dark shirt, hiding the blood staina better. John thought of how dangerous his hand was, how many men he'd taken down with just them. And he was tenderly rubbing your back.

"Five years," he said after a few beats of quiet. John set the newspaper on his lap, holding it there with his hand.

You raised your head, shifting closer to John. The two of you were past the formality of tiptoeing hard subjects, you felt. At this point, you knew that there was two possibilities of this ending: in bitter tragedy or a new beginning for the both of you.

So you asked: "What's her name?"

"Helen," John said, turning his full face to you. He decided to get ahead of your line of questioning, to explain how you were both here now. "She died earlier this year. She told me..."

He was cinched then, imagining her handwriting on Daisy's kennel. John felt the pain bubble up again, seeing his wrongs. "That I needed to love something more than my car."

He chuckled mirthlessly, hiding a gulp that lodged in his throat at his last word. Your brows raised slightly, sitting up on your elbow.

You two were there yet and, while you knew that to be true, you wanted to get there. Hopefully, one day.

"That's why I got Gunner," John added, seeing your reaction and realizing another mistake.

The two of you let the collective sigh alleviate the room, allowing you back down to rest your head on John's thigh.

"I'm sorry for your loss," you offered, reaching your hand out to tenderly caress his bruised side.

John nodded, resuming his hand on your back. The two of you returned to your previous action, your eyes lulling with the temptation of sleep.

The questions were hard to wade through; John understood that if you were going to be around in the dark pond, you would soon learn about the very facade he put forth.

He cleared his throat, ready to admit his hard truths that he left behind; it would be easier for the both of you to leave the Underworld unscathed.

John's phone vibrated from the nightstand and he was tempted to silence it. The precarious bubble surrounding the three of you was already threatened, and John didn't want a call to break the tender surface.

He picked it up, realizing that it was a message from an unknown number. John stared at it, seeing that it was an attachment but made no moves to unlock his phone.

You heard your phone begin to vibrate, somewhere discarded in your dress skirt pocket. You groaned, rolling your head back and forth on your hands with the attempt to convince yourself that it was a text.

But then your ringtone began to chime. John heard it too, turning his head in the direction of it. His hand became heavier on your back, attempting to keep you in place.

"Hold that thought," you said, sitting up to kiss John before climbing out of bed.

John's eyes were trained on you, watching as you pulled his shirt to its full length, barely covering your bare ass. He watched intently as you bent, searching through your dress to find the offending phone.

You stood up, rolled your eyes at the Caller ID and answered to your coworker. "What's up?"

Her voice on the other end was slightly shaken, telling you that there was a puppy brought in that was hit by a car.

"I-I can't deal with putting him down, can you come in?"

You glanced over your shoulder to John and Gunner, both of them enough reason to stay in bed. John sat back again the headboard, draping his arm over it with the invitation for you to return to his side.

You groaned in annoyance, bouncing on one foot in the slightest of tantrums. "Can't you call someone else?"

"I-I tried, but one of them is at a Communion and the other is out of town."

You pouted, knowing that you being the single one in a vet clinic meant that you were left to do the dirtiest of work.

"I guess....I can be there within the hour." You forfeited, turned to John as you said it.

And just like that, John's bubble burst.

"You didn't have to drive me here," you said as you and John sat a red light.

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, reaching over to rest his hand on your knee.

You scoffed, turning to John. "Because I know you've got to be tired from your travel. I could've gotten Charon to bring me."

You were appreciative of John driving you on such short notice, but you wanted to give him a little space. It still felt too fresh, whatever you had, and you didn't want to impose so much that he ended up pushing you away.

"Please, I'm a faster driver," John said with a grin as the light turned green. He let his foot of the brake, tempting his gas pedal as he tilted his head at you. "And I don't want you depending on Charon when I'm around."

You smiled, reaching over to touch the back of John's neck. You could get used to touching him, running your fingers through his hair or scratching his beard. But you were getting ahead of yourself.

"Thanks," you offered softly just as John pulled up on the curb in front of the clinic. "I'll call you when I'm done?"

John nodded, leaning into your hold as you kissed him. "Maybe we can do dinner?"

You laughed. "Hopefully it won't be that long, but we'll see."

You kissed him again, then a third time before you hummed against his lips knowing that you were on an urgent timeline. "Okay, okay. I'll see you in a bit."

You threw open your door and got out, carefully shutting the door of John's car. He bent across the center, offering a wave to you as you opened the door to the clinic and looked back a final time.

He watched you walk in, though his stomach dropped as the door shut behind you. Something felt wrong and his proven instinct was off.

John's phone buzzed again in his pants pocket and he geared his car to retrieve it. Another attachment sent by the unknown number, this time with a message to follow.

Unknown: Come out, John. We have something you want.

You looked around the clinic, seeing most of the offices shut down for the weekend but the light in the exam room on. You called after your coworker, flipping on the overhead lights in the lobby.

When you got no answer, you looked over your desk for paperwork then started towards the back room.

John reluctantly opened the message thread from the unknown number, his heart clenching at the first photo. Of you and him, from the view of the window earlier that morning.

Though you looked so beautiful on his lap, your dress exposing down your back in the morning light, John was chilled at the angle. The same position of the sniper that morning.

He looked after you, seeing that you'd disappeared further into the clinic, then went to the second photo. You, through the view of a porthole window, wearing the clothes you'd changed into. He noticed his own car from the glass door.

John shut off his car and threw his door open, haphazardly closing it before running after you into the clinic. He tapped his side, acknowledging his gun stashed in his waistband and drew it when he was inside.

He called after you, hearing no answer as he looked around the sterile, quiet clinic. John straightened up, holding his gun out as he continued stepping cautiously.

"Hello John," a voice responded from the double doors into the surgery room. "You've been a hard man to track down."

John grit his teeth hard enough to hear his jaw resound. His nostrils flared as he tried to level himself, knowing that he had to keep a strong front.

"I thought 7 million would've made you an easy target, but you're a smart man to hide."

"I wasn't hiding," John retorted, not allowing the comment to show him a coward.

He stepped up to the wall, trying to see into the bright room. John caught a glimpse of you, petrified against Santino's shoulder as his hand grasped your mouth.

You stared, bewildered through the small porthole window, catching a glimpse of John's face. You barely shook your head at him as Santino raised his gun to shoot out at the glass.

"Right," Santino continued, pointing the gun to your temple and making you panic, crying at the thought of his finger slipping. "You had gotten distracted. Which is dangerous in your line of work, you know that."

You gulped, quivering in the hostile man's hold. John righted himself against the wall, popping the clip to check his ammo. He took another careful breath, turning back in the direction of the window before ducking across to the other side.

"You could've tried getting out again, but you'd just end up owing somebody...again," Santino taunted, playfully tilting his gun about as he thought of it. "And then when the next wife dies along with the next sad pup, the cycle of John Wick would continue."

You whimpered, looking out and darting your eyes back and forth to find John anywhere. John couldn't find an answer, thinking more about what he was putting you through and what it would mean for him to stop.

If he could stop.

He didn't want to admit it, but Santino was right in a sense. John didn't want to keep owing people for the life he'd been luck to have once.

He especially didn't want to do it twice. Not that you weren't worth it. But danger seemed to lurk whether he was in or out.

"It wouldn't happen again," John said finally, after thinking for a moment. "I wouldn't let anything bad happen to her."

Santino tsked, turning the gun back to your head. "It's a little late for that. Look at where we are now."

John shut his eyes, coming to terms with his consequences once again. He carefully put the safety back on his gun and held it to his side.

"Fine," John said, pushing open the double doors. You cried from behind Santino's hand, incoherently begging for John to do anything else. "You're right."

Santino huffed amusedly through his nose then looked down at you. "You need something done, you do it yourself, eh?"

Santino turned the gun onto John, readying to shoot as you noticed the reflection of his pistol in something on the stainless steel table.

Looking down, you noticed a full syringe of clear liquid. You flicked your eyes back to John as he saw your eyes look away.

He barely nodded in your direction as Santino pulled back the hammer of his gun and readied to shoot John. "No hard feelings, John. Just avenging my sister."

At the same time, you felt his arm loosen around you and you took the opportunity to grab the syringe and stab it into Santino's neck.

Your fingers fumbled at the plunger, slowly dispensing half of the clear liquid into his blood stream. Santino grabbed the syringe with his free hand, taking his other to smack you away.

"Stupid bitch! This is men's business," Santino turned the gun on you and John called for his attention.

"Hey! You want to kill me. So kill me," John offered, raising his hands.

Santino narrowed his eyes at John, looking from him to you and back. "You're not...even going to try to beg me?"

John shook his head; you kicked at Santino's ankle, causing him to stumble then crawled after him to grab the syringe again. This time you righted yourself over Santino's body and stabbed the needle into his chest.

You hyperventilated, staring at the man as his eyes widened in fear. You trembled again with the plunger, releasing more liquid into his chest.

Looking over to John, you hoped he would find the words you couldn't. You didn't even understand what this was about, but you were caught in the middle of it.

John met your gaze, feeling his hands going cold at the thought of you getting hurt. The decision was still so muddy, but he was aware of where to start.

"Call it off," John said, reaching to grab Santino's gun and point it at the man. "Call the bounty off."

You turned back to the man, his hair wild as his eyes were twitching in disdain. "Why should I? You gonna kill me too?"

You stared at the plunger in his chest, your thumb on the weapon. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing your coworker dead in her puddle of blood along with the dog that Santino brought in to bait her.

"T-this is pentobarbital," you bluffed, nodding to the syringe in the man's chest. "There was enough in this syringe to kill you twice. But I've on-ly used ha-lf."

Your voice betrayed you in a moment, but you stared at this man under you as if he'd wronged you personally. And he kinda did. He ruined an almost idyllic morning by running egotistical games.

John withheld his surprise, glancing at your profile while you reasoned with this stranger.

"Call it off, and I can undo it," you lied, unsure if you could make such a promise.

"Bullshit," Santino spat at you, looking over to John. However, by the stone-cold look on John's face, he was inclined to believe you.

You straightened up and looked down your nose at this man, floundering to be let up but realizing a lack of options. Your cold thumb tempted at the plunger further.

"Y-you would feel it in your knees first. A dull pain that washes away when you can't feel your legs." You tried to narrate, reluctantly mapping out the process when you so wanted to forget it in pets.

"Your heart will start rushing soon, hoping to pump enough blood to circulate down to your toes, but then your fingers will lose feeling."

Santino gulped and you barely glanced to John as your brows knitted and your eyes watered. "Let's get your phone out before we get to that, because there's no turning back from there."

John watched in stunned silence, holding the gun pointed at Santino for any sudden movements towards you. Santino did as instructed, pulling his phone and typing in his code.

He dialed the number slowly, staring at you strong-handing the syringe. When it rang, he glanced over to John, unfazed.

"Pull the bounty for John WIck." He stated when he got on the phone. "Yes. Santino D'Antonio. 758042."

"Yes sir," the operator on the opposite end stated. The line was quiet for a moment and you held your breath. "Your bounty is rescinded. Is there anything else--"

You smacked the phone away from Santino before he could say anything else then leaned back for John to take the shot. He blinked in the flash moment, then aimed and shot Santino.

The splatter of his blood from his head decorated your face and you were sat in the shocked silence of the past few moments. Santino's dark phone lit up with a message.

Unknown: Bounty: John Wick rescinded. Disregard previous messages of subject.

You let go of the syringe, looking down at your cool trembling hands before you felt a pair of thick arms curl around you. John wasn't sure what else to do in the moment, knowing that nothing he could say would make up for it.

He pulled you up, held you close and swiped the blood from your cheeks. John rested his lips to the top of your head and kept you still when you tried to tremble.

He expected you to cry, ready to coax you down, but you were silent. Grasping at his shirt, you turned your face into him and held tight. Your breath slowly returned to normal, shutting your eyes to rid yourself of the sight of your coworker dead. This strange man dead.

John knew that what came next wouldn't be easy and he was dreading every minute of it.

You sat in the car with John as an unmarked black van pulled up in front of the clinic. Looking over at him, you expected John to get out but he only nodded in the direction of the clinic as the older gentleman stepped out of driver's side.

Without word, the man nodded and patted at the back doors of the unmarked van; the double doors opened and you jumped slightly at the men that followed out. Each of them was dressed in dark clothing, two of them holding mops and buckets while the final two carried unmarked bags into your place of work.

Slowly you turned to look at John, hoping for some sort of explanation. John watched as you did, his face frozen in the sense of unknowing where to start. So he tried going for simple.

"I'm a contractor," he said, turning his body to face yours. "I do freelance work for anyone who pays me and I do most of my work out of the Continental."

You gulped, your eyebrows knitting in concern. "S-so Winston and Charon are..."

"They know about my work and aid me in doing so."

You raised your shocked brows even further, unsure of what contortion your face was in at the moment. "Oh, okay."

Though it was not okay.

You had dinner with assassins, or contractors as John explained it. You fucked a contract killer.

You fucked a contract killer. You gulped, the thought giving you butterflies.

"So you're not like...an assassin that kills for fun?"

John raised a brow in question then shook his head. "Only bad people, and people who've forgotten that they're bad."

Your face flattened a little, ready to ask your next question as you remembered the stranger in the hotel room. "I'm not being targeted, am I?"

John slowly reached for you, taking tender hold of the side of your throat as he leaned in. "No. And this is not a long con. Meeting you was just coincidence. I just...dragged you into my darkness. And I'm sorry."

Your bottom lip trembled, staring into John's dark eyes and seeing them melt with his sincerity.

"I like you," he began, his chest tightening at the confession. He'd slain 200 men in a single night, he'd killed an extra 100 to avenge his dog, but here was when he felt nerves. "I want you to stick around. If you want."

You instinctively reached for him, pressing your lips to his. He lost his breath, putting his other hand to the opposite side of your neck to hold you close.

When you'd had your fill, you parted from him with a trembling sigh.

"Is that a 'yes'?" John asked, rubbing his thumbs before your ears.

You smiled nervously, taking hold of John's wrists to keep him there and nodded. John smirked softly, wondering what was going on in your head in that moment.

"You'll keep me safe, right?" You teased, though you wanted the reassurance.

John nodded.

He let his hands drop and you took hold of them. "I'm guessing you're gonna stay in this line of work a bit longer?"

He tried to keep his face neutral, though it loomed overhead as the next big step. Slowly he nodded and watched your body deflate upon doing so.

"Just a little longer," John said, leaning forward. "I've got a month saved up at the Continental and I'd like to use my points before they expire."

You broke with an amused scoff, turning away from John's face trying to hold back from smiling. You rolled your eyes at him, feeling this as a new beginning for the both of you.

"And it's got your name written right beside it," John added, tilting his head. "I know that room service has been calling your name."

You laughed then, barely sparing a glance to the men as they returned to their van. "It'd give me time to look for a new job."

You didn't want to bring it down, but the reality encroached again. John grabbed your hands and pulled them in to kiss your knuckles.

"We can figure it out together," John said, rubbing his thumbs over your hands.

His darkness paired well with yours, he saw. John only witnessed a glimpse of it, but it would do well if his month stay turned into two. Or five.

Depending on how much trouble he got into. You bit your lip, staring down at your hands intertwined with one another.

"Did you...hurt his sister?" You asked, letting the words spill out before you could stop them.

John was still for a moment, taking in a steady breath. "I made a blood oath before I got out that he'd be able to hold over my head if I ever came back. He used that promise to kill his sister."

Your face scrunched up slightly. "That's so vile."

"Yeah," John said, running his thumb over your knuckles as if measuring each one in size.

You raised your gaze to meet his. "And he crossed you even after that?"

John nodded, letting you get accustomed to whatever this new beginning was starting from. You looked down again, sorting through your biggest thoughts by importance.

"T-there was a person that broke into..." you mindlessly thumbed over your shoulder, remembering the long night you'd had before this one.

"They were trying to gain the bounty." John said, staring after you as if he was losing you to your own personal spiral.

"Charon said he contacted the police." You snapped up to look at John again and he bit back a smile at your concern.

Your eyes were watering again, this time your bottom lip ready to pout from your teeth. He reached up and coaxed a tear away with his thumb.

"No contractor business is allowed on Continental grounds," he tried to offer as solace but knew that the next part would jar you. "It's an excommunication rule."

You stared at him, hoping that he would explain further.

"The consequence is death," John offered as solace. "It's a safe place. That's why I wanted you to stay there."

You dryly scoffed at him, turning into his palm. "You were trying to keep me safe?"

John nodded. "I saw how shaken you were that night when I picked you up. I wanted to look out for you."

You pursed your lips. "Were Charon and Winston looking out for me too?"

John's lip curled slightly. "Charon, yes. Winston as you've said, loves to gossip. The man can't help but know every detail."

You tilted your head against the seat cushion, pinning John's hand against your cheek. "Did you tell him about me?"

It felt wrong to ask in such a situation, but there was no doubt that your meet-cute with a contract killer was fucked up.

John hid a roll of his eyes, his cheeks raising though he lined his lips together. "I told him enough. He called you...my Persephone."

You reached for his hand, shifting it down for his thumb to brace your lips. You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. "He's funny. I guess this is kind of like the Underworld. Contractors and blood oaths, sacred hotels and clean-up crews."

John raised his brows at you. "Still okay with staying?"

Your stomach, for the first time in the past few days, felt realigned with steel. Though hostage situations were something you never wanted to get used to.

You raised your left hand, pointing your pinkie out. "If you promise me something."

John's lips pouted to the side, never eager to hear about promises in his line of work. He slowly raised his left hand and pointed out his pinkie, waiting to hear what you had to offer.

"Name it."

"You promise to keep me safe if I need it, you can't dump me during a mission and you teach me how to shoot a gun."

John's brows quirked then, his mouth a wormy squiggle to withhold his amusement. He nodded, reaching his large pinkie out to hook around yours. "Deal."

"And..." you added, just as you hooked your finger around his and held him there. "We get dessert in bed and Gunner gets a plate of fries. Also I want to go with you once on a mission."

John's mouth scrunched up under his nose, his cheeks bottling his want to laugh. It felt good to have that still within him.

"I promise."

"Also," you continued, biting your bottom lip. "You help me move out of my apartment."

John chuckled, pointing his finger at you from his interlocked hand. "Now that's too far."

"Said the contract killer," you jested.

John metered his nod back and forth with another soft laugh. "Okay, fine. Also, you don't have to tell me not to dump you."

The two of you stayed locked in your pinky promise as John looked from it to you.

"Promise me something."

"Shoot," you said, scrunching your nose at the poor choice of word.

"You let me know if it gets to be too much. If you want out at any time, I will let you out. I don't want to keep you where you don't want to be."

You hummed, softly smiling at this man. You wanted to stick around for a while, even longer than that. But you didn't want to tell him so.

Even though you were sure this man was the opposite of squeamish. Nothing like boys you'd dated previously.

"Okay."

"And..." John drew out like you had, pursing his lips in soft thought. "I want a full day in bed, with you. Gunner'll have to stay with Charon."

You giggled softly. "Okay," you said, shaking your head in John's direction. "I promise."

The two of you solidified your pinky promise with another soft kiss; John let his hands untangle from you as he felt his ring finger pulse again.

He paused, looking down at his hands and circled his ring on his finger.

You slowly came down from the adrenaline and mushiness spilled and stared at John fiddling with his ring.

"If it's too soon for you..." you tried, but John shut it down with putting his ring hand on the steering wheel.

"I'll be fine," he said with a sigh, aware of when he'd take it off.

It wouldn't be for a while, and he should've asked if it was alright with you. You didn't even notice it, feeling that it was just a part of him.

"So was it pentobarbital in that bottle?" He asked curiously, starting the car and gearing it into drive.

You reached for your seatbelt, glancing out of your window at the vet clinic then buckled yourself in.

"I don't think it was," you said geniunely, unsure if it'd make a difference.

John turned his car into the underground parking garage and circled the top level to find a space. The two of you were going over John's excursion in Rome, why he was really there and what he had to go through to get home.

"That's so fucked up," you offered, unable to create any other cohesive thought.

John shrugged, which gave you the note that this was a normal thing that happened sometimes.

You leaned in, intrigued to learn more about this other half of John. There was John Wick, the mild-mannered dog dad that fucked so hard that you shivering at the thought.

Then there was John Wick, the contract killer who took down a mafia of men in the time it took for you to have dinner with Winston.

"What do they call you?" You asked after John geared his car into park then shut it off.

John raised his brows, glancing over at you. "Don't laugh."

You straightened up in your seat, mimicking a zip of your lips closed before nodding at him to continue. John smirked and undid his seatbelt.

"Baba Yaga," he offered, awaiting your eventual snicker.

But you were perplexed, staring at him. "What is that?"

He blinked once, turning to you fully. "The Boogeyman."

You stared at him, knowing that there was no doubt in your mind that while you feared this man just a little bit, you were attracted to him more.

You looked around the desolate parking lot then back at John. "Anything else?"

"The Wolf, The Devil..." John added, unsure if those names were even true but wanting to amuse you.

You leaned over to John and exhaled a trembling breath. "Is it wrong of me..."

You couldn't finish that sentence aloud, knowing that it was a bit twisted to want him more. The man had just shot another man in front of you...and yet...

You caught John's mouth in a fervent kiss, edging your knee over the center console to sit in his lap. John was surprised, making such a noise as his hands held your hips.

You blindly reached between his seat and the door, finding the handle to recline the two of you back.

John groaned at the sudden movement, but didn't break from you. He pressed his hand into the small of your back and held you tighter against him, allowing you to roll your body against him.

"I-I'm sorry," You offered, parting from him with smaller pecks to follow. "I don't know what came over me."

John looked at you from behind his half-mast eyelids, taking in your trembling chest and legs spread over him. The image of you that morning flashed by again, trying to hide the other twisted side of it.

"Let's go upstairs," he added, his voice hitting a new low.

You felt your body cinch at his utterance, reminding yourself of the euphoric kisses and bites that would come from it.

You nodded, reaching for the driver's side door and climbing out. John attempted to regain himself, righting his seat before grabbing his keys and climbing out.

You didn't expect this place to become a sanctuary to you. The dark foreboding walls, something echoing to the Asphodel, was not inviting like you'd seen most places.

The marble floors, the sharp edges, the posh guests, all of them were out of your wheelhouse of comfort. But you were relieved to enter the lobby of the Continental.

It felt like it held a new charm, one that you prayed never left. You were awash with a sense of security, taking John's hand and leading him to the elevator.

You pinned him against the wall, nudging your nose with his before tempting him with a kiss. He leered after you, his eyes fluttering close with the thought of tasting your lips again.

You nipped at his nose instead, bringing your fingers up to scratch through his beard.

When the two of you made it back to your floor, you grabbed John's hand and started towards your door. At one point, John's arm circled around your waist and he lifted you into him, carrying you to the room.

The two of you stopped at the door, with you fumbling to take the key from John and open the door. You felt his breath over your shoulder, his hands already making their way down the front of your pants.

You shook your head alert, finally making the key open the door and clambering in with John hot on your tail.

You barely made it to get your shoes off before John expertly undid your pants and tugged them down. You bowed onto the bed, readily hiding your shame at how wet you were.

John pulled your pants down to your ankles, then off before turning you onto your back. He took your knee, pulling your legs open and stashing a hard gulp at the sight.

He had no words to say, knowing that the truth would be squeezed out of him soon enough. He reached for his own belt, undoing his pants and freeing his stiffened cock.

You looked down at the comparison, his cock flush against your stomach. You whimpered as he drew himself back, pushing his cock head against your clit before letting it slip over your stomach again.

You threw your head back in frustration, knowing that you wouldn't last long being teased. John watched like an instinctual predator, waiting for his best strike.

His bare hand went to rest at your chest, feeling your racing heart beat hard. John pulled back again, rutted his cock against your clit then let it slide, gathering your wet and streaking your belly.

You whined again, drawing your knees up from the edge of the bed. "John, please."

He would savor every time your lips formed his name; he tilted his head back, soaking it in to puff up his chest when he was normally without flaunting an ego.

John dropped his head again, glaring darkly at you from under his brows. He rutted a third time, earning your writhing. Your head turned back and forth on the comforter, your fingers reaching out for him but never grasping onto him.

"C-c'mon," you hiccuped, finding yourself a disheveled mess. You were flustered and growing on embarrassed, as if John was showing off how turned on you were by him.

By what he did.

By what he did for you.

You gulped, tightening your stomach as you watched him rut a final time; this time he went back and pressed his cock at your entrance, making you drop your head in relief when he slid into you.

John's hand at your chest dropped down to your stomach, leveling your core to feel every inch of him. You practically vibrated upon the new sensation, finding yourself drawn closer to a peak you weren't even acknowledging.

John took his hands away from you to run them under your shirt; he tenderly shrugged your top from over your chin, blinding you the cotton as his cock thrusted into you harshly.

You lost your breath, gasping when he shrugged your shirt over your head and up your arms before pausing there. He flattened himself against you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth with a tender suck.

His fingers threaded through yours, tangling both of you in the cuffs of your shirt until he finally pulled it off of you. John did his with pulling away from you and reaching between his shoulders to rip his shirt over his head.

The cream top yanked up to reveal the yellowing and purple bruises along John's sides, ones you knew now to be wounds for his effort. He went above and beyond in his work, it showed deeply.

John tossed his shirt away, returning over you to feel your chest rise and fall against his. He wanted to undo you further, have you bare to him in the physical and vulnerable sense, but he didn't want to throw off his pace.

You keened when he hit a particularly soft spot within you and he recognized it as your second weakness. John licked his fingers and dove them between the two of you, finding your clit with expert precision and circling it.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, wanting to hook into him if he was going to keep on. Your pants heightened against his mouth, drawing more moans from you as his other hand peeled your leg back to your side.

You broke another inch, your eyes crossing as you glanced to the ceiling. John took it in stride, using his lips to level his chin and meet your eyes. "Did I lose you there?"

Your face scrunched in pleasure, just as your chest tightened with the threat of explosion. "You are the Devil."

He chuckled mirthlessly against your lips, taking them in another kiss as he continued his pace. The two of you found yourselves drawing further up in pleasure, finding the heat culminated between you two enough of a catalyst for you both to cum.

You were first, your mouth falling open in the moans of John's name. Your walls beckoned him further, stunting his thrusts from going too deep before he finally succumbed to your heat.

He rested his elbow next to your head, groaning and hissing in pleasure. The two of you shared your caught breaths, staring at one another in the dim light of the room.

You prodded your tongue to your bottom lip, your eyes raking up and down John's body. He did the same, though he paused at your neck and dove in to kiss you there.

You shied away, raising your shoulder to giggle at his warm breath wafting down your neck. He liked that sound, he wanted to hear more of that.

#john wick #keanu reeves #john wick fanfic #john wick franchise #john wick smut #winston john wick #charon john wick #dog john wick #fan work #fanwork #fanfic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fanfiction

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fr0stf4ll · 2 months ago

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A court of Shadows and Moonlight - Part 8

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the wake of looming war and changing traditions, a gifted healer returns to the Night Court after centuries of wandering the continents. Tasked with stepping into Madja’s legendary role, she must guide reluctant healers, soothe wounded warriors, and face the entrenched prejudice of Illyrian leaders. But as she mends torn wings and broken spirits, an unexpected bond awakens between her and the Night Court’s enigmatic Spymaster. With rivalries simmering and a dangerous threat looming on the horizon, she must reconcile duty and desire, learning that true healing can extend beyond flesh and bone—if she dares to embrace the light hidden among the shadows.

word count ; 6k

Trigger warning; //

notes; Yooo, hope that everyone is doing well ! New chapter and with a bunch of interactions (finally...) hihi. This weekend I'm trying to write as much as I can because I'm starting my apprenticeship on monday and knowing myself the only thing I will be able to do at home is sleep duh. Btw I'm supper happy to read you guys's comments on the last post I hope that you liked the previous parts. Well see you all soon. bisous bisous <333

Link; Part 7 or Part 9

Breathing deeply, you sank into the worn chair at your desk, a rare moment of stillness washing over you. The clinic was quiet for now, the hum of activity replaced by the distant murmur of Velaris’ Solstice celebrations. For the first time in weeks, you felt the weight on your shoulders ease, even if just slightly.

Earlier in the evening, as the streets had begun to fill with laughter and light, Elira had paused at the door before leaving for her own celebrations. She had lingered, shifting her weight nervously before finally speaking.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay tonight?” she had asked, her voice tinged with worry. “I don’t mind helping, even if it’s just for a while.”

You’d given her a soft smile, appreciating the concern in her wide eyes. “Elira, it’s Solstice. Go enjoy it. I can manage things here,” you’d reassured her, though you knew she wasn’t entirely convinced.

“But if you need anything—anything at all,” she pressed, her tone firm despite the slight tremble in her voice, “just send for me. I’ll come straight back.”

You’d chuckled lightly, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. The cases tonight are likely to be minor—besides, you deserve to celebrate.”

Her smile had been hesitant, but she’d finally nodded, squeezing your hand briefly before stepping out into the bustling streets. Watching her go, you’d felt a pang of affection for the younger healer. She was learning quickly, but more than that, she cared.

Now, hours later, the streets of Velaris glimmered with festive charm. Strings of lights adorned every shop and home, and bursts of laughter echoed through the crisp winter air. The celebration’s warmth was palpable, even from the confines of the clinic. It was a stark contrast to the sterile quiet inside, where you had just finished stitching up a young boy who’d split his palm open while playing too close to a sharp edge. He’d been brave, though, and you’d sent him off with a small packet of sweets you kept for such occasions.

You exhaled and picked up your mug of coffee, savoring the warmth that spread through your hands. The clinic remained calm, as you had hoped, with only minor injuries coming through—nothing unexpected for a night like this.

The files on your desk called to you, and you opened the leather-bound notebook where you’d been outlining the major questions for the Dawn meeting. The room was quiet except for the scratch of your quill and the occasional distant crackle of laughter from the streets outside. The moonlight streaming through the window painted everything in a soft glow, and for a moment, the work felt less heavy, almost meditative.

After jotting down the last of your thoughts on the meeting agenda, you turned to the stack of parchment Madja had left for you before her retirement. The pages were filled with detailed notes on injuries and conditions she had encountered during her centuries of practice. Among them was a folder marked with the priestesses’ seal, its edges worn from years of handling.

Curiosity tugged at you as you flipped it open, revealing notes on rare conditions and ancient healing methods that had once been housed exclusively in the library. Some of the practices were ones you’d only heard of in passing, their descriptions invoking both fascination and a sense of awe for the healers who had come before you.

You made a mental note to consult with the priestesses in the coming weeks. Their knowledge would be invaluable for refining some of the techniques you were considering introducing to the clinic and possibly even the broader healing network across Prythian.

With a soft sigh, you leaned back in your chair, gazing at the notes scattered before you. It was moments like these that reminded you why you had chosen this path, despite its challenges. Healing wasn’t just about mending wounds or curing illnesses—it was about preserving hope, ensuring that even in the darkest times, there was light to guide people forward.

You took another sip of your coffee, letting the warmth settle in your chest. There was still so much to do, but for now, the night was calm, and that was enough.

The faint sound of the door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts, the familiar weight of responsibility snapping back into place. Setting down your mug, you rose quickly, your heart skipping at the possibility of an emergency. You moved through the clinic’s quiet halls, your steps soft yet purposeful, and turned the corner into the reception area.

The sight that greeted you stopped you in your tracks. Azriel stood just inside the doorway, his tall frame illuminated by the dim lanterns still lit for the night. His wings were tucked tightly against his back, and though he tried to maintain his usual calm demeanor, something about him seemed... off. His shadows swirled slower than usual, as if sensing his hesitation.

“Azriel?” you asked softly, concern

The night air was biting as Azriel soared through the skies above Velaris, his mind a whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t quite sort. He had nearly kissed Elain. Nearly. But the space between them had been filled with too much doubt, too much tension, and then Rhys had found him.

And his High Lord had been merciless.

"If you need a woman so badly, Azriel, then go to a brothel. Don’t ruin someone’s life just because you can’t control yourself."

The words echoed in his head, each syllable sharper than the winds cutting through his skin. He knew Rhys was furious—and Rhys wasn’t wrong—but that didn’t soften the sting. He had left, unable to bear another moment of the suffocating tension in the House of Wind. Flying aimlessly, he let the cool air whip around him, carrying him away from his thoughts.

But the wind had a mind of its own, or so it seemed. It brought him to the clinic. His landing was quiet, deliberate, and before he could think better of it, he had pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The sight of you, moving purposefully through the quiet clinic, tugged at something deep inside him. When you spotted him, your expression shifted instantly from focus to concern.

“Azriel?” Your voice was soft, laced with genuine worry. “Are you alright? What are you doing here?”

He froze, his usual composure crumbling under the weight of your gaze. He tried to find the words, but they escaped him. All he could manage was a faint, “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t convinced. He could see the worry etched in your expression as you stepped closer, studying him as though he might fall apart at any moment. Before he could say anything else, you motioned toward one of the chairs in the small waiting area.

“Sit,” you said gently, your tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll make you something.”

He obeyed, sinking into the chair as though the weight of the world had finally caught up to him. He watched as you moved with practiced ease, preparing an infusion of herbs. The warmth of the cup pressed into his hands moments later was soothing in a way he hadn’t expected.

“It’s a mix of herbs,” you explained, your voice steady and reassuring. “Nothing fancy, just something to help calm you down.”

He nodded, taking a small sip. The warmth spread through him, dulling the edge of his frayed nerves.

“I need to check on a patient,” you said softly, already moving toward one of the rooms. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Azriel watched as you disappeared down the hallway, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He stared into the cup in his hands, the steam curling upward like shadows of his own making. He didn’t know why he had come here, to you, of all people. But now that he was here, he felt... grounded.

In the patient’s room, you checked on the man with Greyscale. He was still asleep, his condition stable, much to your relief. You took a moment to breathe, steadying yourself. You hadn’t expected Azriel to show up tonight, of all nights, and his presence was unsettling in a way you couldn’t quite define. Not unwelcome, but certainly unexpected.

When you returned to the waiting area, he was still there, lost in thought. You settled into the seat next to him, picking up the files you’d been working on earlier. The silence between you was comfortable, a shared quiet that didn’t demand anything from either of you. Gradually, you felt him relax, the tension easing from his posture.

Azriel broke the silence first, his voice low. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?”

You didn’t look up from your papers. “The clinic isn’t just for people who are bleeding or on the edge of death,” you said calmly. “It’s also for people who need a moment for themselves, or someone to listen. I’m not here to force anything.” You reached out, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. A faint shiver coursed through you at the contact, but you ignored it. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here. If you don’t, that’s fine too. No pressure.” You ended with a soft wink, your tone light but sincere.

He stared at you, a faint trace of disbelief in his eyes. Rarely had he felt this peaceful around anyone. There was something about you—your presence, your calm, the quiet way you offered him solace without demanding anything in return. It was as though the chaos inside him stilled when he was near you.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Azriel let himself lean back in the chair, his grip on the cup loosening as the warmth seeped into his skin. Quiet, but profound, the moment stretched between you, offering him the calm he hadn’t realized he so desperately needed.

Azriel’s voice broke through the quiet, hesitant at first but gaining strength as he began to speak. He told you what had happened at the dinner, the almost-kiss with Elain, and Rhysand’s harsh words that had followed. As he spoke, his shadows swirled subtly around him, betraying the tension he still held onto.

You listened, your expression calm and steady, though the compassion in your eyes was unmistakable. You didn’t interrupt or react too strongly, simply letting him unravel his thoughts. When he finally stopped, his gaze drifted to you, waiting for... something. A reaction, perhaps, or judgment.

“What do you think?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with something you hadn’t expected—uncertainty.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do I think?” you echoed softly, setting the papers in your lap aside. “I think...” You trailed off, studying him for a moment before speaking again, carefully choosing your words. “I think what Rhysand said was wrong. Definitely wrong.”

Azriel’s head tilted slightly, his brow furrowing as if he couldn’t quite believe your words.

You continued, your tone steady but kind. “You’re no such male as he implied. I might not know everything about your life, but from what I’ve seen—and the brief moments we’ve shared—you’re worthy of so much more than what you’ve been made to feel tonight.”

His shadows stilled for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

You shifted slightly, leaning forward just enough to hold his gaze more directly. “As for Rhysand,” you added, your voice softer now, “I don’t think he meant to hurt you. People say mean things when they’re angry. That doesn’t make it right, but it also doesn’t mean he truly believes what he said. Sometimes emotions get the better of us, and we lash out.”

Azriel stared at you, his expression unreadable, but there was a faint glimmer of something in his eyes—gratitude, perhaps, or relief.

“Let it go for a moment,” you suggested, your tone gentle but firm. “Not forever, just... for now. Give yourself time to process, to breathe. Don’t let it weigh you down.”

He was quiet for a long time, staring down at the cup of now-cooling infusion in his hands. Finally, he nodded, almost imperceptibly, as though he was only just allowing himself to consider your words.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

You offered him a small, reassuring smile. “No need to thank me. Just... don’t be too hard on yourself, Azriel. You deserve better than that.”

For the first time that night, he let out a slow, deep breath, as if some of the weight he carried had finally begun to lift.

Azriel stared into his cup, your words still echoing in his mind. The way you spoke—calm, measured, but full of unwavering certainty—was unlike anything he was used to. He hadn’t expected such kindness, nor had he realized how much he’d needed to hear those words: that he was worthy, that he wasn’t defined by the anger and disappointment he carried.

The silence between you stretched on, but it wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that allowed thoughts to settle, emotions to ease. You had returned to your work, glancing at the papers spread across your lap while he tried to untangle the mess inside his head.

After a moment, he glanced up, catching sight of the faint lines of fatigue etched into your face. You were clearly exhausted, but you didn’t let it show—not fully, at least. There was strength in the way you carried yourself, a resilience that both impressed and unnerved him.

Azriel finally broke the silence, his voice low. “What about Elain?”

You froze for just a heartbeat, your hand hovering over the edge of a page before lowering it to your lap. There was no judgment in your gaze when you turned to look at him, but he could see the hesitation there, the careful consideration before you answered.

“Don’t get mad at me,” you began, your voice steady but cautious, “but this is just my opinion.”

Azriel’s shadows curled tighter, though he gave no outward reaction. He waited, letting you gather your thoughts.

He didn’t say anything, his expression unreadable, so you continued. “After I left the Night Court, I was in the Dawn Court for a while. I wasn’t doing well at the time, but I eventually started dating a male there. Things were great for a while—he helped me a lot, pulled me out of a dark place.” You paused, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you remembered those early days. “After about six years of dating, he proposed.”

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up, his surprise evident. “And?”

“I said no,” you replied simply, earning a look of shock that quickly morphed into confusion. “A few months before, one of my friends came to me and told me they had discovered he was their mate.”

Azriel’s expression hardened, a mix of anger and disbelief flashing across his face. “So you left the person you loved because they had a mate? Even when you knew you were together first?”

“Yes,” you said, meeting his incredulous gaze. “Even though I loved him. I didn’t want to be stuck in one court—I knew I wanted to travel, to see more of the world. And more importantly, I knew that his mate would bring him feelings and a love that I could never give him. No matter how much he cared for me, a mating bond is... something else.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, his shadows curling tighter around him. “Did you regret your choice?”

You took a deep breath, your voice steady but heavy with the weight of honesty. “It was hard. Don’t think for a second that it was a choice I took lightly. When I left, I didn’t explain why. It wasn’t my place to tell him he had a mate. Maybe that makes me a bitch—I don’t know. But I left, and two years later, I was invited to their mating ceremony.”

Azriel’s eyes widened slightly at your words, but he didn’t interrupt.

“We talked about it afterward,” you added. “And while it wasn’t easy, we’ve remained close friends to this day. I don’t regret my choice, because I knew it was the right thing to do—for him, for his mate, and for me.”

Azriel’s expression darkened, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “I’m tired of suffering and listening to what everyone tells me to do,” he said, his voice low but sharp. “Why should I have to keep making the hard choices? Why does it always have to be me?”

You frowned, leaning forward slightly. “You asked for my opinion, Azriel,” you said firmly. “If you don’t like it, that’s not my fault. But I’ve been in your position. I made the hard choice because I knew it was what needed to be done.”

"My whole life i’ve tried to put people’s needs above mine, it felt natural. But now I… I don’t fucking know.” He took a short breath. “I’m so, so tired of everyone judging the single things I tried to do for me. And maybe for you leaving your male was what you thought was right but… she doesn’t love him, she doesn’t want their bond or whatever it is. Rhysand has Feyre, Cassian has Nesta, why did I didn’t get to have Elain…” He was looking at you with a sort of rage deep inside his eyes.

You swalloed hardly and not a word could go out of your mouth. Before any other word could be spoken, the sound of the clinic door opening interrupted the tense atmosphere. Both of you turned to see a family entering—a couple with a small child cradled in their arms. The child’s cheeks were flushed with fever, their body trembling slightly as they clung to their parent.

“Please,” the mother said, her voice trembling with worry, “Our child has a high fever. Can you help?”

You stood immediately, your own exhaustion forgotten in the face of their need. “Of course,” you said, your voice calm and reassuring. Turning to Azriel, you gave him a brief, pointed look. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”

Without waiting for a response, you moved to the family, already assessing the child’s condition as you led them to an examination room. Azriel watched you go, his shadows swirling around him in agitation. For a moment, he considered leaving—but something held him there, tethered to the clinic and the healer who had just challenged everything he thought he knew.

You gestured for Azriel to head upstairs, your voice steady but kind. “Go to my apartment, it’s just up there. I’ll join you after I’m done.”

Azriel hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether to argue, but then he let out a long sigh and nodded. Without another word, he turned and made his way up the narrow staircase.

Once inside your apartment, the tension that had gripped him earlier didn’t loosen. Instead, it seemed to settle in deeper, coiling in his chest. He was mad—at the situation, at Rhysand, at himself. Most of all, he was furious with how he had reacted to you. You’d shared something deeply personal, offered him insight from your own life, and what had he done? Snapped at you like a petulant child.

Azriel dragged a hand down his face, his shadows swirling restlessly around him as he tried to push the regret aside. He knew he’d handled the conversation poorly, but the weight of everything—Elain, Rhysand, his own insecurities—had left him unraveling at the seams.

The soft rustling of feathers broke through his thoughts. Azriel looked up and found Ydle perched on the back of a chair, staring at him with what could only be described as birdlike curiosity.

The golden eagle tilted its head, its sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if assessing this stranger in its space. Azriel’s shadows, ever mischievous, reached out tentatively toward the bird, curling around its feet and wings. Ydle, not one to back down from a challenge, hopped off the chair and began chasing the shadows, snapping at them playfully.

For the first time that evening, Azriel cracked a small smile. The sight of the majestic bird hopping around your apartment like an oversized chick was ridiculous, and yet, strangely comforting. He let the shadows dance just out of Ydle’s reach, amused by the way the bird flapped its wings in mock frustration.

After a few minutes, Ydle seemed to tire of the game, retreating to its perch with a soft trill of satisfaction. Azriel sank into your couch, the faint remnants of his smile fading as his thoughts returned to the mess of emotions swirling inside him. His gaze wandered around the room, taking in the small touches that spoke of your presence—the neat stack of books on the side table, the soft blanket draped over the arm of the couch, the faint scent of herbs lingering in the air.

Despite himself, Azriel felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. This space felt like you: steady, warm, and unyieldingly resilient. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply exist there, surrounded by the essence of someone who, even in the face of his frustration and anger, had shown him nothing but patience and understanding.

But the regret remained. He had lashed out when all you had tried to do was help, and now, sitting in your apartment with nothing but his thoughts for company, he knew he owed you an apology.

Azriel leaned back against the couch, his shadows curling around him like a protective cocoon. He could hear your voice downstairs, soft and measured as you reassured the worried family who had come into the clinic. He didn’t know how he would find the words to make things right, but he knew one thing for certain: he would try. You deserved that much, and more.

For now, though, he waited, letting the quiet of your space soothe the storm within him.

The clinic had finally quieted after a small rush of patients, leaving you feeling worn and drained. It had been an exhausting night, but your mind lingered on the thought of Azriel waiting upstairs. After ensuring everything was in order, you climbed the stairs to your apartment, unsure of what to expect.

As you entered, the sight before you stopped you in your tracks. Azriel was fast asleep on your couch, his head resting lightly on the armrest, one hand draped over his stomach. His usually tense features were softened by sleep, the faintest crease between his brows still lingering as though even in dreams, the weight of his burdens followed him.

For a moment, you just stood there, taking in the sight of the infamous Spymaster in such an unguarded state. It was strange, almost disarming, to see him like this. You grabbed a thick blanket from the armchair and quietly approached, draping it gently over him. He barely stirred as you did so, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly under your breath.

“Surprising for a spymaster,” you murmured, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

Your gaze lingered on him, and an ache spread through your chest. He looked peaceful now, but you knew the turmoil he carried—the confusion and pain that had led him here tonight. And there, in his slumber, he still wore the invisible chains of everything weighing him down: Elain, Rhysand, and perhaps even the bond you knew existed between you.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, Azriel had a way of reminding you of its presence. Of him. Always there, always visible, but just out of reach. Attached to someone else in a way that made your heart twist painfully, even as you told yourself it wasn’t your place to feel that way.

Movement caught your eye, pulling your focus to the side of the room. Ydle, your loyal bird, was curled up near Azriel’s feet, his feathers tangling gently with the spymaster’s shadows. The sight made you smile, a flicker of warmth in the midst of your stormy thoughts. Trusting shadows and a loyal bird, both at ease in each other’s company—it was oddly poetic.

You straightened, glancing toward the window. The faint glow of dawn was beginning to peek through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues of gold and pink. The quiet serenity of the moment wrapped around you, and for a heartbeat, you let yourself sink into it.

But there was work to do. Always work to do.

With a quiet sigh, you turned and left the apartment, careful not to disturb Azriel or Ydle. The clinic was bathed in the soft light of morning as you descended the stairs, the hum of Velaris beginning to stir outside. It was a new day, and despite your fatigue, you were ready to face it.

Azriel’s eyes opened slowly, the soft morning light filtering into the room causing him to squint. His body felt stiff, his wings sore from being crammed into the corner of your couch. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the surroundings, and realized where he was. The scent of herbs and warmth of your apartment grounded him.

His gaze landed on you, standing on the small balcony with your back to him, overlooking Velaris. The sunlight framed you in a golden halo, your relaxed posture a stark contrast to the tension he often saw in others. You turned, catching the movement out of the corner of your eye, and smiled warmly at him.

“Hello, sleeping beauty,” you teased, your voice light with humor. “Sorry, I don’t think my couch is made for wings.”

Azriel let out a soft huff of amusement, rolling his shoulders to loosen the ache. “I noticed,” he murmured, his voice still rough from sleep.

You crossed the room and handed him a cup of tea, the steam curling lazily upward. “Here,” you said, your tone gentler now. “This will help with the soreness.”

He accepted it, wrapping his hands around the warm cup as he muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

You gestured toward a small table in the corner of the room where an assortment of pastries and fruits had been laid out. “One of my healers dropped these off earlier,” you explained. “Feel free to eat something. I didn’t prepare it, so it doesn’t count as me playing host.”

Azriel’s lips quirked into a small, reluctant smile. “Noted,” he replied, his shadows curling faintly around him, still sluggish from his rest.

You leaned lightly against the edge of the couch, watching as he took a cautious sip of the tea. The quiet between you was comfortable, the sounds of the waking city below filtering in through the open balcony door. For a moment, it felt as though the weight of the world beyond your walls had lifted, leaving only this shared stillness.

Azriel’s gaze dropped to the steaming tea in his hands as if it held the words he was struggling to say. After a moment of silence, he spoke, his voice low and hesitant. “About last night… I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You were only trying to help, and I—” He stopped, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words. “I took my frustration out on you. It wasn’t fair.”

You shook your head lightly, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “Azriel, don’t worry about it,” you said, your tone calm but kind. “You were on edge. We all say things we don’t mean when emotions run high. I didn’t take it personally.”

His wings shifted slightly, the leather rustling as he sat up straighter. “But you should have,” he said firmly, meeting your eyes now. “You didn’t deserve that. You were sharing something deeply personal, and I threw it back in your face. That’s not... that’s not who I want to be.”

You tilted your head, considering him for a moment before replying. “Azriel, I understand where it came from. You’re carrying a lot—more than most can even imagine. And honestly, I think you’ve been holding it all in for too long.”

His shadows rippled faintly, curling around his chair before settling again. He let out a soft sigh, his gaze distant. “That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t let what’s going on with... everything affect how I treat others—especially you. You’ve been nothing but kind and honest with me.”

You crossed your arms lightly, leaning against the couch. “I’m not saying it’s an excuse,” you admitted. “But it is an explanation. You’re human—or, well, as close as any of us can get,” you added with a small smirk, earning a faint chuckle from him. “And you’re allowed to feel overwhelmed, frustrated, even angry. But you need to learn how to let it out in a healthier way.”

Azriel’s eyes searched yours, as if weighing your words carefully. “I’ve spent so long keeping everything bottled up,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “Sometimes it feels like if I let one thing out, everything will come pouring out, and I won’t be able to stop it.”

You nodded slowly, your expression softening. “I get that,” you said. “Believe me, I do. But carrying all of that alone will only weigh you down more. It’s okay to let people in, Azriel. To lean on them when you need to.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair, the shadows around him flickering faintly. “I don’t even know where to start.”

You smiled gently, placing a hand on the back of his chair. “Start with the small things,” you suggested. “Like this—being honest, talking it out. It doesn’t have to be perfect, and it doesn’t have to happen all at once.”

Azriel looked at you, his expression softer now, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice sincere. “For listening. For not giving up on me, even when I make it hard.”

You straightened, brushing off his gratitude with a light shrug. “I’m a healer,” you said simply. “Fixing people—even the stubborn ones—is kind of my job.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, and for the first time that morning, the shadows around him seemed less restless. “You’re not just a healer,” he said softly, almost to himself. “You’re... more than that.”

The way he said it, the weight of his words, left you momentarily speechless. But instead of lingering on it, you returned his smile and gestured toward the breakfast spread. “Well, let’s see if you can be fixed with some food. Go on—eat something. You look like you haven’t had a decent meal in days.”

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re relentless.”

“And you’re lucky I am,” you shot back, moving toward your desk to give him a moment to collect himself.

You went back downstairs, leaving Azriel upstairs to gather his thoughts while you prepared to welcome the healers who had arrived to replace you. The moment they stepped inside, you greeted them warmly, exchanging a few pleasantries and updating them on the clinic’s current status. The little chitchat helped ease the weight of the long night, and their presence brought a sense of relief—knowing that the clinic was in capable hands for the rest of the day.

In the meantime, Azriel came down the stairs, his steps slow but purposeful. He paused briefly, his gaze meeting yours. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low but sincere. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and made his way out of the clinic, his wings tucked close to his body.

Once the door closed behind him, you let out a quiet sigh, the exhaustion from the long night finally catching up with you. With the clinic in safe hands, you allowed yourself the rare luxury of retreating upstairs. The moment your head hit the pillow, sleep claimed you, pulling you into the deep rest you so desperately needed.

Azriel made his way back to the House of Wind as dawn broke over Velaris. He hadn’t joined Rhysand and the others for their annual day away from the city—something he never missed. But after last night, the idea of spending the day in their company felt... unbearable.

He arrived at the grand estate, its imposing yet familiar presence looming against the soft hues of the rising sun. The place was silent, save for the faint whistle of the mountain wind. Either the others were still asleep, or they had already left. The solitude suited him just fine.

Still clad in the attire he’d worn for Starfall—a tailored dark jacket with intricate silver embroidery and a deep teal shirt beneath—Azriel felt out of place. His clothes spoke of celebration, but his heart carried only turmoil. The silence of the House of Wind wrapped around him as he stepped inside, his boots echoing faintly against the stone floors.

He made his way straight to his chambers, his steps slow and heavy. The elegant finery he wore felt stifling now, a stark contrast to the state of his mind. Once inside his room, he closed the door with a soft click, the quiet cocooning him further. He shrugged off his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair, and unbuttoned his shirt with quick, impatient fingers. The fabric fell away, revealing scars and tension etched into his skin. Changing into something simpler—a loose tunic and comfortable trousers—he felt a fraction lighter.

Azriel let himself collapse onto the bed, lying flat with his wings spread out behind him. His mind raced, replaying the events of the previous night: Elain, the almost-kiss, Rhysand’s harsh words, and then... you. The memory of you calmly standing in your clinic, handling everything with a quiet grace that both impressed and unsettled him, lingered in his thoughts.

He hadn’t even known why he’d ended up at the clinic, but the moment he saw your concerned expression, a part of him had felt... anchored. And yet, he’d acted like a fool, lashing out when all you’d done was listen. Now, as the early light filtered through his curtains, he couldn’t shake the gnawing sense of regret.

A knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts. He frowned, reluctant to face anyone just yet, but forced himself to his feet. When he opened the door, he was met with Rhysand’s unmistakable presence.

“What do you want?” Azriel’s tone was flat, his face impassive.

Rhysand hesitated for a moment, his expression unusually somber. “Brother,” he said quietly, “I came to apologize for last night.”

Azriel leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. “It doesn’t matter, High Lord,” he replied, his voice cold and sharp. “I should have just listened to you.”

Rhysand flinched at the use of his title, the regret in his violet eyes deepening. “Azriel, don’t do this. I didn’t mean what I said.”

Azriel scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter smirk. “Didn’t you? You seemed pretty certain when you said it.”

Rhysand sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was angry, Az. That doesn’t make it right, but—”

“No, it doesn’t,” Azriel cut him off, his tone icy. “But it doesn’t change anything either.”

For a moment, Rhysand looked like he might argue, but then he seemed to deflate slightly. “Where did you go last night?”

“Does it matter to you where I went?” Azriel asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Maybe I went to a brothel, like you suggested. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Rhysand’s eyes widened, guilt flashing across his face. “Azriel, I—”

“Save it,” Azriel said, stepping back into his room. “Go enjoy your little day away, Rhys. But leave me out of it.”

With that, he closed the door firmly, the sound echoing in the quiet hall. He leaned back against the wood, exhaling a shaky breath. For the first time in a long while, Azriel allowed himself to admit how deeply his emotions had unraveled.

He moved back to the bed, collapsing onto the mattress with a weary sigh. His thoughts drifted back to you—your steady presence, your unwavering calm. For a moment, he let himself cling to the memory, wishing he could hold onto that fleeting sense of peace.

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love-me-satoru · 10 months ago

Text

Besties

toji fushiguro x ryomen sukuna x fem! reader

summary: you’re best friends with these two man sluts. teasing doesn’t work in your favor but it does in theirs.

warnings: SIZE KINK :), pussy eating, Toji And Sukuna it's a crazy pairing in a way, slight brat, mean toji, ooc sukuna (he's softer than normal) teasing, pet name use (baby, pretty girl, brat, sweetheart), talk of safe words, messy shit, Sukuna having boundaries? A lot of dialogue, brat-taming

word count: 7.2k words (DAMN)

a/n: please guys this has to be one of the longest fics I’ve ever written I may have also been under the influence of something when I wrote this monster please let a girl know how I’ve done. thank you! :)

Believing you could take two of the biggest men you’ve ever met makes you clinically insane. Toji Fushiguro and Ryomen Sukuna. Being 5’1” on a good day makes you extremely small. Compared to Toji 6’ stance and Sukuna’s 7’ stance. Your legs tremble at the thought of being split open by either of them. With those two being some of your closest friends. When you first met them, they would always tease you for your height. The normal tall people things. Using you as an arm rest while standing, squatting down to meet your height and holding all your items above your head. All the normal tall people shit. But when you started fighting back it caught them off guard. They would start teasing you, and you’d tease them right back. The only difference was you played dirty. And I mean dirty. When it would be you and Toji or you and Sukuna, you would run your hand over their hard chest. It just happened to be Toji this time. The tight compression shirts leave little to imagine. slowly tracing over his nice abs.

“If you would stop teasing me. I'd probably let you do more to me, baby.” He lets out a rough groan. “Sucks you keep being mean to me” as you show a little pout. He has the fuck me eyes right now. You can see the slight bulge in his pants. But all you do is turn around and walk away from him. As much as you want to jump his bones. You want to play hard to get. But his large hand wrapped around your wrist. Pulling you back towards him. Effectively pushing your ass against Toji's hardening cock. “You know sweetheart. If you did this dirty shit to Sukuna he wouldn't have hesitated to bend you over any surface.” ”Yeah But ‘Kuna isn't here Toji. You are.”

Toji slowly leaned down to your small little ear... “And dirty little sluts don’t get what they want, isn't that right baby?” His voice made you whimper. You didn't notice you began grinding on his clothed cock but he noticed almost immediately stopping your hips. “What do you think you're doing sweetheart? Sluts don't get to play with my cock.” You didn't think your plan would backfire as much as it did. You thought you'd get a little hate fucking session. Quick and easy, Not the teasing back, the lewd words coming from his throat. “What did I get myself into” saying slightly under your breath all while looking away from Toji. His hand snaked up your front to around your throat. Making you look at him again. “Oh, pretty girl you just gave me the best idea.” His grip never loosened. He used his free hand to pull his phone out. Opening the camera app. Pulling you flush against his front. Facing the camera towards you. You tried to push his phone away but one look from him made you stop. “Smile for ‘Kuna pretty girl.”

Ding! Ding!

From Fushiguro

Look at this fucking slut

[image attachment]

Opening his phone seeing the picture of you pressed up against Toji’s body. Made him feel some kind of way it’s crazy how much smaller you are compared to Toji. He couldn't wait to see the difference between you and him.

Ding! Ding!

From Sukuna

Send another

“Oh look, pretty girl.” he slowly waves his phone in your face. “He wants more. Spread your legs for me” You’re staring at Toji just a bit shocked. “Did I stutter slut?” Remaining silent you shook your head. “Mhm? Oh, sorry princess I didn't hear you.” you're slightly trembling against him. “No Toji you didn't.” he lets out a small chuckle.“That’s right baby, I didn't. You thought you could get one on me. But who's winning right now?”

“You are Toji.”

"Mhm, that's right. You gonna listen baby?” His phone is still in hand. Tapping your thigh with said phone. You relaxed against him. slowly spreading your legs for Toji. You can feel how wet you are right now dripping down your legs. Silently cursing yourself for not wearing any panties. You know they're going to have a field day with it. “Come on princess. I'm waiting.” Looking back up at Toji, his eyes no longer the pretty green you loved to stare at when he wasn't looking. His eyes were deeper than the deep sea. As you finally get your knees apart. The hand that was around your throat ran down to your core. “Oh shit. You are a slut. Huh, princess?” you immediately shook your head no. “No panties?” “No…” Toji just laughs. “Mhm. Sure princess.” He slowly starts teasing you through your folds. Pulling out soft whimpers from you. Tensing up slightly when he slides over your pulsing clit. “Relax baby. We still gotta take a picture for ‘Kuna.” Toji slowly starts teasing your sopping-wet hole. “God baby. You’re just so wet I could just..” as he slips his middle finger inside you. pulling a loud moan from you. “Oops. Sorry pretty girl. It just slipped in. I forget that you’re so small. And one of my fingers is too much.”

Softly moaning out, with him slowly easing his finger in and out of you. “To..ji..” He slowly places his head in the crook of your neck. Leaving small kisses behind running up to your ear. “Yes, pretty girl?” Slowly picking up the pace finger fucking your tight little cunt. Your moans getting louder and louder. “Toji! The picture..” Moaning out quite loud g His lips form a smirk. “Wanna show Sukuna how much of a slut you are?” tears are forming in your eyes “Yes Toji!” Just his one finger is hitting all the right places. Continuously hitting the right spot. “I’m going to put another one in Princess. Go ahead and cum for me..”

He shoves a second finger into you. Kissing insanely close to your walls. Immediately tightening up around him. “Gonna.. cum Toji!!” His pace becomes unforgiving pumping deep inside you, his thumb brushing over your clit every second. “Come for me, princess wanna watch you fall apart on my fingers.” Feeling too gone to speak you nod your head repetitively moaning out his name. clenching around his fingers hard still nonstop. You scream out squirting all over his hand. “Holy fuck baby… Keep going for me..” He starts to slow down But keeping his fingers inside of you. “You ready baby?” “mhm..” Toji finally takes the picture. Just with his fingers deep inside your pretty cunt.

Toji didn't even care that there was 5 miss messages and 2 missed calls from Sukuna.

Ding! Ding!

From Fushigurio

Sorry got a little busy

[image attachment]

Sukuna texts back immediately.

Ding! Ding!

From Sukuna

Where are you.

Toji just laughs.

You're still to fucked out to comprehend what's going on.

Ding! Ding!

From Fushiguro

My room. She’s pretty fucked out rn. I'm pretty sure she'll be able to take more.

Ding! Ding!

From Sukuna

Bet

Not even 10 minutes later Sukuna was there. You passed out on the couch. “Look at her” Toji’s smirking.

“she’s really out of it huh?”

“She basically fell asleep the moment i took the picture.”

“oh really?” “Oh yeah.” Toji’s laughed.

“She’s literally so fucking hot.”

“I knew if I kept teasing her she would slip up eventually.” they’re honestly just watching you sleep.

"You know its rude to watch people sleep. and kinda creepy." You're slowly starting to sit up.

"It's also really rude to fall asleep on someone." Toji laughs out. "it's not my fault! you're just mean." you pout slightly.

Sukuna's eyes found your pretty little face. Their eyes met for a second. then the same evil smirk showed on Toji's face. "Oh sweet girl did you not learn your lesson the first time?" your eyes shot to his immediately turning black. Toji likes to get real up close and personal, and pulls you into his lap. Making you straddle his lap. His big hands wrapped around the globes of your ass slightly squeezing.

Your hands rest on his shoulders. You were sitting up straight your back slightly arching. Toji's hands roam up and down your back. You knew what he was doing. He was trying to make the Great Ryomen Sukuna jealous. You knew that Sukuna always wanted a little piece of you and so did Toji. "God. You look so fuckin good baby" Toji slowly snuggled his head into the crook of your neck. You angle your neck slightly so he can leave small kisses. Which turns into love bites. which causes you to moan. Which brought an evil smile from Toji. Sukuna's grip around the edge of the couch tightened. “You know brat, it's is rude that this loser gets all the attention when the king is back" You glance at Sukuna slightly and he walks up behind you. wrapping his massive hand around your throat making you look at him. Pressing his hard-on against your back. "Kuna..." a slight whine came from you. Sukuna let go of your throat and step back away from you. "None of that brat." looking up at Sukuna pouting all so slightly. "Quit looking at me like that brat, You won't be able to walk if you keep on." Your pouting continued, looking up at Sukuna “You’re lucky Toji has a hold on you right now. Because if you were in my room.” as he gets all up close and personal, “You would be mine.”

Just because they were the ones to tease it was your turn to do a little teasing. You weren’t sure what you would do. But a few days later you took a small trip to the mall hoping for it to be the best revenge. It quite literally took you all day to find something you knew both of the boys were going to love. The real question you had for yourself was who was going to rip it off. Kuna. Defiantly Sukuna. Toji would try and get to you first But with Sukuna and his size it was going to be him. Slowly treading back to your home knowing you're supposed to visit the boys tonight. This time you're going to Sukuna first not Toji. Slipping on the special piece. And just a set of grey sweats. You make it over to your best friend’s house. You have your key to their house so you just walked right in. Meeting Sukuna in the living room. Shirtless. Sexy as ever. Your eyes lingered on Sukuna hard. Don't think that went unnoticed. he chuckled "Lookin' a little hard huh sweetheart?" his laugh pulling you back from reality. "No!" slightly blushing running into a different room to run into Toji. "Hey there pretty girl." "Um... hi." as you slowly start walking backward. Toji slowly creeping back up on you. Completely forgetting about the pink-haired menace in the other room. Backing into Sukuna, his big ass hands placed on your shoulders as he bends down to whisper something in your ear. "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" Frozen. Trapped between these two big ass men. “uh..” Your eyes are locked on Toji. he’s getting closer. Sukuna still holding on to you. “You know pretty girl... We saw you at the mall today.” Hearing that your eyes widen.

“You did.?”

“Oh yeah.”

Sukuna’s hand runs down your side, sliding his hand to the base of your sweats. “I wonder if she’s wearing it right now.”

Toji is now right in front of you. his hand running over your warm face. making you look directly at him. “So are you pretty girl?” “Huh..?” your mind is completely mush by now being surrounded by these two men. Your plan failed completely.

“We didn’t even touch you yet and you’re already acting all fucked out baby.” By now sukuna ran his hand into your sweats. cupping your cunt in the process.

“she’s fucking soaked.”

“bet she is.I’m gonna ask one more time pretty girl. Are you wear it right now?”

“Yes!” you said a little too fast for your liking. You really wanted to hold back but they were becoming too overwhelming. And the ache in your core was almost too much to bare. “You gonna tell us why you’re wearing it baby?”

Your face reddens at the pet name. It's not a foreign name. Toji would usually use it. But when it slipped from Sukuna’s mouth it got you.

“I wanted to tease you both..” You said a lot quieter than intended.

“I bet you look so sexy under these clothes huh baby?”

Sukuna’s hands reach the bottom of your hoodie. silently pleading to take it off. You felt hot. Hotter than usual.

“Baby. I'm going to ruin you.” Sukuna whispers in your ear. He pulls your hoodie clean off. Toji just watching at the sight. Seeing the way your tits sit just right. The small straps run across your chest and around your pretty little neck.

“Oh baby look how hard Toji is right now.”

Looking directly at Toji again. Seeing his hand gripping the outline of his dick is making you feel things. “Please..”

“Please what baby?” Sukuna’s hands run down to your waistband again.

“Please fuck me!”

With that Sukuna threw you over his shoulder making his way to his room Toji not far behind. Once he made it there he threw you on the bed pulling your sweats completely off in one fell swoop. Feeling your face get hot again with these two men staring down at you. You immediately covered your face. “All shy now huh?” Toji’s deep voice echoed out. “Leave me alone!” you said playfully. Sukuna pulls you by your ankles to the edge of the bed. leaning over pressing his hard-covered cock against your soaked cunt to be face to face with you. “Do you really want us to leave you all hot and bothered baby?” “No..” Toji chuckles to the side of you both. “I thought so. So you might want to show yourself because we’ll walk away now.” You moved your hands away from your face looking directly into Sukuna’s now deep black eyes. The smirk that forms is damn near deadly. Sukuna presses his hot lips against yours. It's like he's been dreaming of it. His tongue fighting his way into your mouth, you let him in gladly. Moaning into the kiss. “As much as I like to watch this. I think I deserve a little something too don't you think pretty girl?” Toji said slightly annoyed. Pulling away from Sukuna looking at Toji. His cock still pressing hard against his sweats.

“Come here, you big baby,” you said teasingly. “You better watch your tone with me you brat,” Toji said sharply. The edge in his voice almost had you folded. But you just shot back harder. “Make me,” you said with a slight smirk.

He makes his way towards you fast Sukuna knowing what he's going to do moves to the side and his hand makes it around your throat in seconds. Toji pulls you close, his nose touching yours. “You have no idea what you just started brat.” his lips hit yours hard , all teeth trying to fight for the dominance. With Sukuna watching how much you're fighting Toji. Sukuna chuckles out loud. "what you laughing at" as Toji pulls away from you a pout prominent on your face. "Nothing man, just something i noticed." Toji raised an eyebrow at him. You're just whimpering from the lost touch. Sukuna comes back to you grabbing your chin, making you look up at him. "What do you want baby?" you have these cute little puppy dog eyes staring back at him " I want you 'Kuna.. Toji's being mean." the pout on your face getting bigger. Toji's scowling on the side. Sukuna notices immediately and smirks. Sukuna presses his lips onto yours again harder and once again you let him slip is tounge into your mouth letting is tounge fight with yours. when he pulls away again while you whine.

"See how she summits to me but not you"

"what a fuckin' brat"

As you sit up from the bed. looking at Toji.

"I’m not a brat!" you yelled at him.

"Say that again" Toji standing in front of you again.

"Im. Not. A. Brat." you said poking his chest after every word.

Toji just watched you, Sukuna knew this was going to happen eventually. You were a hothead when you didn't get what you wanted and so was Toji. You're a brat at heart even if you weren't going to agree you were.

You could feel the shift in the air. "you know brat, if you just admit you are one ill give you what you want the most."

"I'm not a brat but whatever," you said under your breath, not like they didn't hear you.

Toji's hand wrapped around your throat again. pushing you into sukuna's bed and ran his hand down to your core. with you being the brat that you are you tried to close your legs. But sukuna's hands stopped you. ripping your legs open.

"you traitor!" you spit. Now mad at both of them.

"I was never on any sides baby. I just want to see that pretty cunt"

You tried to fight against them both. but with them being huge compared to you. you knew you would never win. Toji's hand now running over you slick covered panties. causing you to slightly flinch from the touch.

"Oh? the little brat is sensitive huh. We haven't even touched you" You're silent for once just staring at him his hand still wrapped around your throat, when he slips is hand into your panties.

"You're lucky im not ripping these off right now" You tried to look away from him but his hand is keeping you firmly in one spot making you to only look at him. his eyes boring into you. When his finger finds your clit. you yelp out with how sensitive it is. "fuck!."

"Oh? look at that." Toji said smirking

You're getting fed up with all the teasing. "Stop teasing me already!"

"oh no Toji she's starting to have an attitude. Might want to fix that" sukuna said laughing. Toji's hand slipped out quicky. and slapped your cunt unexpectedly causing you to moan out. Both toji and sukuna laughed at the response you gave. "I didn't take you for being a little pain slut"

"maybe if you would actually fuck me, you'd hear more"

" Or i could do this" As he slaps your cunt again. more moans fell from your mouth.You can't take it anymore. the lack of actual touch is too much. "Please! Toji I'm Sorry!"

"Sorry for what brat" his smirk forming already. "I'm sorry for being a brat!" the ache between your legs is screaming at you. "thats a good girl." he slips off your panties quickly.

“Look at this fuckin cunt. so fucking wet for me.” Toji quickly drops to his knees throwing one of your legs over his shoulder.

“I’ve been waiting to taste this fucking cunt since the last time.” Sukuna gave him a dirty look after that comment.

"Toji!" you whined out. Toji licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit and started sucking tour clit hard to have you trashing against his tongue he wrapped his arm around your other leg to hold you still but with him eating you out like a starved man had you moaning out a lot. "I'm close!" Toji's eyes caught yours and and a small smirk formed. You threw your head back when he started sucking on your clit again when he felt you tense up a lot he pulled away.

"Toji! What the fuck!" you screamed out.

He slaps your cunt, and laughs. "You really thought i was going to let you cum after the way you talked to me sweetheart?"

"ugh!" you whined out.

Toji loved this sight of you. A literal mess. Toji got up to sit next to you and Sukuna took his place. you're really hoping Sukuna will let you cum.

"Just be a good girl maybe we'll let you cum sweetheart"

Looking down at Sukuna with begging eyes. "Please 'Kuna.. wanna cum.."

"Relax baby. Just let me enjoy this."

As he said that he went in face first going immediately to your clit. Its already extremely sensitive from Toji's abuse. "Oh. My.. God."

"There's no god here baby. Just me" Sukuna said then going right back to devouring your cunt. He's sucking sloppily through your folds. catching your clit every other second. Toji has been palming his cock while watching you. You're getting close again. slightly tensing up. "Can i come please "Kuna.."

Sukuna locked eyes with Toji. With a slight nod from him. Sukuna went down harder you moaned out loudly. Toji's hand ran over your tits. "oh fuck! I'm so close!"

"Go ahead cum for us baby."

Sukuna ends up slipping two fingers inside of you, sucking harshly on your clit. From that moment you tensed up that deep tension building up in the lower part of your stomach you came. hard. As you push your cunt deeper into Sukuna's face riding out the rest of your high. You relaxed down heavily breathing.

"Honestly man, you should of let her cum."

Toji just let out a soft hum. "it doesn't matter, I rather have her cum on my dick."

Toji got back up but this time he stands at his full height and he pulls out his cock.

Your eyes widen, you've never seen a dick that big before. he had to be maybe 9 or 10 inches long and he was fucking thick. "Like what you see princess." Toji said with a smug smirk on his face.

"its not going to fit Toji."

'Oh don't worry. Ima gonna make it fit."

Your body is still super weak, as you tried to snake your way up the bed away from Toji. He caught your ankles pulling you back so his cock is just at the entrance of your sweet cunt.

"Don't worry baby, he's just a warm up. im really going to break you" Sukuna said laughing You felt your face get red. If Toji was fucking big, Sukuna had to be fucking huge.

"Honestly baby. You know of the color system?"

"Yes.. Red for stop, Yellow for Slow, and Green for i’m good"

"Good.. if Anything doesn't feel right just say the word."

"Okay.." You're just staring at Toji he slapped his cock directly on your burning red clit, moaning out his name "Please Toji.. I'm sensitive.."

Sukuna is standing next to you pulling out his own cock. your mouth agape. he was bigger than toji. its honestly fucking scary how that's going to fit in you.

"Hey. Eyes on me pretty girl." Toji slowly started easing his cock inside of you.

"Oh fuck!" the stretch of his cock is almost unbearable

"Oh fuck man, you're so fuckin' tight baby."

he continued to ease himself in slowly, barely half way in. "God baby you gotta relax. I'm not even half way."

"It's not my fault your dick is so fucking big!"

Toji just chuckles he knows he's big. But the teasing never stops. Sukuna laughs to himself from the comment but he then eases himself onto the bed next to you. his sweats abandoned next to the bed. "Look at me baby" Your eyes caught Sukuna's eyes. Seeing his cock leaking with precum so close to your face. "Open your mouth baby." And like a good girl you did. Opening as wide as you can. and he just slips just the tip into your mouth. tasting all of his salty taste. humming slightly against his tip causing sukuna to moan out. With you distracted a bit Toji fully sheathed all 10 inches inside of you. which made you moan against Sukuna's cock. you felt his dick twitch on your mouth.

"Holy shit man. Her fucking cunt feels great."

"Her mouth is great too" You felt Toji's cock twitch slightly inside you and it made you moan out again. You take out sukuna's cock from your mouth. "Please move Toji. wanna feel you."

He slowly starts pumping in and out of you. Sukuna quickly puts his cock back into your mouth. The constant moans coming from your mouth are making Sukuna tremble with pleasure. "Holy fuck baby. I'm gonna cum soon." Toji starts picking up his pace. His hands firmly on your hips. Sukuna slowly shoves his dick down your throat. It feels like your jaw is about to break but you just want all of him down your throat. Sukuna's hand wraps around your throat forcing his cock a little farther down.

"Oh god. me too." sukuna moans out.

Sukuna picks up his pace and starts fucking your throat and you welcomed him eagerly. Gagging ever so often when Sukuna pushes a little too far. "You gonna take my cum right princess?" You hummed around him with him taking that as a yes and fills your pretty little throat. Which causes you to clench hard around Toji. "Holy fuck." Sukuna pulls his cock out of your mouth. Your first thought was how the fuck was he still hard.

"You better swallow all of it princess, or i won't be as nice later." You weren't planning on being a brat. But you kinda want him to be mean. just to see what would happen. But with Toji's hard cock still beating at your core you weren't sure how much more you could take. You swallowed every little bit of his come. Opening your mouth to show him.

"Thats a good girl."

"I'm about to blow my load baby, where do you want it." Toji struggles to get out. Moaning in between each thrust. "Inside me Please!" while you moan out, Toji's thrusts start to get harder and harder his balls slapping your ass continuously.

"I'm coming Toji!" You clenched hard around Toji's cock. So hard he couldn't move anymore. as he tried to force his cock as deep as he could. You moaned out loud squirting all over Toji as he empty his seed deep inside of you. He's trying to keep pumping but with how much your cunt is squeezing him he can't move an inch. "I didn't know you could do that baby." Sukuna said with a light coo.

"Mhmm..." You're gone, mind completely blank. The only thing going through your mind right now was how much was Sukuna going to fill you.

"You okay baby? What's your color?" Toji said softly as he's pulling out his cock.

"Green.. So Green" you sung out softly.

"I'm surprised you can actually make out words this time Princess."

"Stop being so mean to her Toji."

Toji just rolled his eyes.

"You got enough energy baby, want to come for us one more time?"

"Want both of you.."

"Woah baby, slow your roll. Don't you think it would be a bit much?"

You shook your head “no. both"

"Oh baby."

"No 'Kuna! i want both of you now." your pout deep on your face. Your eyes firmly on Sukuna. Your eyes are just begging for him to fuck you.

"This is what happens when you don't tame the brat 'kuna" he laugh while he sung his name.

"Shut up Toji." Sukuna scowled at him.

"Please 'kuna.." You beg. "You know Sukuna. We never actually got to play with these perfect tits." "Yeah! Play with me 'Kuna!" "Yeah come play with her 'Kuna." Toji teased. Sukuna scowling again.

Toji helps you sit up just a bit for him to slip in behind you.

Your back is pressed flush again Toji's front. You can still feel Toji's hard on pressing against you but you didn't really care. You just wanted Sukuna to play with you again. Toji's hands immediately found your tits. You moaned out softly. Toji's usually on the rougher side. With him being so soft with you now has you becoming putty in his very hands.

"Im gonna take this off okay baby?"

"okay..Toji.."

He's slowly unhooking your bra leaving small kisses behind.

"You're so good for me." More soft kisses ran down your neck. as he completely unhooked your bra, throwing it to the floor.

"Look at her 'Kuna. She's so pretty like this right?" Toji started to leave small hickeys down your neck. After every time he sucks down on your neck you moan out toji's name.

Sukuna is trying so hard to not give in. Knowing that you're a big girl. You can always safe word out. but he feels like he needs to hold back. Toji's hands roamed all over your body again. His fingers catch your nipple in between your fingers. Soft moans of his name come out again. "spread your legs for me, baby. show 'kuna what he's missing out on." Toji whispered in your ear. So being the tease Toji is making you out to be. You threw your legs over Toji's spreading your legs wide all for sukuna. "You sure you don't wanna play with me 'Kuna?" One of Toji's hands ran down to your core. One of them stopped at your tits heavily teasing your nipple and running his fingers through your folds.

"Please 'Kuna.." Sukuna is fucking throbbing right now. He can see the remnants of Toji's cum dripping out of your abused hole. You can see Sukuna's cock twitching from the sight of you. His precum is leaking all over himself.

"wanna cum toji please.." your body relaxes against Toji. "You want my cock again princess?" You knew Toji was hard. He's been hard this whole time. Just like Sukuna. The only difference here is Toji doesn't care. He wants to make you happy fuck all the morals.

"Yes Toji please.. Want your cock inside me" Toji's smirking at Sukuna. But he makes quick work of you, lifting you up. His arms under your legs. As he just slips his cock right inside of you. Like it was made for only you. He fits in so snug. Your cunt dripping all over his balls. Already squeezing his dick tightly.

"Oh my God!"

"Go ahead baby tell 'Kuna how good I'm making you feel." Toji's half ass smirk at Sukuna. Sukuna is standing there. His cock in hand because he can't take it anymore. he's fucking leaking all over his own hand.

"Kuna.. please.."

"That's not what i said to say baby." as he's slowly lifting you off his cock.

"Please Toji! I'm sorry!" He slowly stops "Go ahead baby. say it"

"Toji Is making me feel so good 'Kuna!" as Toji slams you down on his cock moaning out his name. "Wanna cum Toji please!"

"You better hold it pretty girl." His cock is slamming into your G spot repeatedly. "Holy fuck! Toji please!"

"Nah fuck this." Toji looked up at Sukuna. He's fucking mad. "Oh 'Kuna are you ready to fuck the little brat?"

"Shut up Toji." Sukuna's eyes boring into Toji as he smirks. "Oh? he's mad mad. this should be fun to watch." he whispers into your ear. Sukuna forceful pulled you off of Toji. You whimpered when Toji's cock slipped out of you. After being so close again. You know your cunt might not be able to take another beating but you're willing to try. Sukuna throws you down on to the bed. Basically manhandling you. Climbing over you and caging in your small frame. His eyes are burning into your body, loving how close you are to him. Your hand ran up his chest.

" 'Kuna.?" his hands grabbed yours pinning it to the bed.

"Oh no, little girl. You're in so much trouble." His eyes somehow darkened even more. Nothing but two black pools. filled his eyes. "All this fucking teasing.." As Sukuna slowly leaving his own marks along your neck, bigger and darker. You tried to pull your hands from Sukuna but his grip just got tighter. You moaned out his name. " 'Kuna please.." Sukuna's leaving small bite marks down your tits. catching one of your nipples in between his teeth. which made you cry out.

"Sukuna Please!"

he just laughs..

Toji's moved from the bed sitting in a chair on the side watching sukuna take you over. his hard cock in hand. Slowly stroking himself.

"You getting off on this you perv" Sukuna snapped then laughed.

"You know you were just jerking off to us, so who's really the perv." Sukuna growled. Turning his focus back to you his hands still locked with yours.

"You're being mean 'Kuna.." "Oh? I'm being mean?

"Yes! I've been so good for you 'Kuna.!"

His hand wraps around your throat fast. "Have you really though? This attitude. I don't care if its directed to Toji, Not Me Yes?"

"Yes Sir.." He chuckles to himself. He then lets go of you hands. "Don't move your hands. little girl." his voice stern. You wouldn't dare move your hands. leaving them above your head where he placed them and he ran his free hand down your perfect naked body. While he continued. "Next. the pouting for not getting what you want. Oh, Baby you looked so cute while you were begging for me. But you were pouting the whole time. And I don't reward pouty little girls." He trapped your nipple in between his index finger and thumb pulling it hard causing you to slightly moan out. "Oh and finally the teasing." he's still holding you down by your throat. he slaps your tit once causing you to cry out. A small smirk is forming on his face. "The fucking teasing.. Showing me that pretty little cunt.. " he pulls your legs apart with one hand and runs his fingers through your folds. then slaps your bare cunt which causes you to scream out. "Oh baby and then I had to stand there and watch Toji fuck that pretty little cunt AGAIN. You could've had my cock baby, but you wanted to be greedy. and try and get both but you ended up settling for who's cock?"

"For Toji's" you said meekly.. looking away from Sukuna's eyes

As he immediately caught your chin to make you look at him again. His eyes burning into yours. "For Who's brat" his voice stern again.

"For Toji's Sir!"

"What are we not going to do next time princess?"

"Be greedy sir."

"What are you going to do princess?"

"Take what I am given."

"That's a good girl."

"You're going to be a good girl for me now princess?"

"Yes sir."

"Go ahead and lay down on your back for me baby and let you head hang off the edge a little." As you get into position. Sukuna stands by the edge of the bed. once you set your head down Sukuna taps on your lips. "Open up wide for me baby." His cock is in front of you again. As you open up you stuck your tongue out as much as you can. Sukuna smears all the precum on his tip onto your tongue. "Like that baby?" all you tried to do was nod your head. "Be ready baby." Your tongue never moved. Sukuna slowly eased his cock into your mouth. he softly moaned out while you welcomed him fully. Hallowing your throat out so he can easily force more of his cock into your mouth. you moan out softly against his cock. "God you feel so fucking good baby" Sukuna's hand grips your throat. Fully shoving his cock deep down your throat. "Oh fuck baby.."

Toji's watching from the sidelines. Watching how your pretty little throat is taking all of Sukuna. His dick getting painfully hard once again. "Oh fuck.."

"What Toji can't keep your dick under control" Sukuna teases.

"Shut the fuck up Sukuna." Toji growled.

"Just lay here and take it baby." Sukuna starts fucking your face hard. Gagging noises falling from your mouth. His balls continuously slapping your face. You felt his cock twitch against your throat. Drool is dripping out the sides of your mouth after every thrust of his hips.

"God i could never get tired of your throat baby."

You're moaning around his cock constantly.

"I'm gonna fill your pretty little throat baby."

His grip around your neck tighten a bit and shoved his cock as far as he could filling your throat full with his seed. A mix of grunts and moans fall from his mouth. "Oh fuck baby." he pulls out his still hard dick from your mouth. "you better swallow it all princess."

As you swallowed all of his cum, You stuck out your tongue just to show him that you did.

"Look at you baby, being such a good girl"

"Thank.. you sir.." You're tired, there's no way your throat isn't bruised.

Sukuna picked you up knowing you can't really move. "Can you take anymore princess?" You're really falling hard into subspace. All you want to do is please everyone "Yes! please.. Want You sir.." "Since you finally learned how to be a good girl you can pick how I'm going to take you princess."

"Can Toji play with us too Sir?"

Sukuna rolled his eyes then looked directly at Toji.

"Sure baby since you've been so good"

" I want you to take me from behind 'kuna.. please"

"Where do you want me pretty girl?"

"in front of me.. i wanna suck your cock Toji.."

"Need help princess?"

“ Yes sir.. please..”

Sukuna helps you stand up slowly spinning you around. so you could crawl onto the bed. Crawling onto the bed on your hands and knees. also placing yourself in-between Toji's legs seeing his cock already leaking again. You start leaving little kitten licks all over the head of Toji's cock. All while Sukuna runs the palm of his hand over the plump of your ass.

"You shouldn't tease pretty girl." Grabbing the base of Toji's cock, wrapping your small hand around it. slowly jerking him off. while sucking his tip. “You’re teasing. pretty girl..”

you look up at Toji. eyes locked on each other. When you fully take him down your throat. "there you go." your hand moved from his base to his balls lightly squeezing. "Holy shit baby" as Toji throws his head back.

“She’s fuckin great with her mouth huh?”

“Oh fuck yeah”

Then Sukuna's slowly running his fingers through your folds. "God baby you're so wet." He inserts 2 fingers inside of soaked hole causing you to moan against Toji’s cock.

“Shit man. If you keep making her do that I’m gonna blow already.”

"I'm sure she'll love it right baby?" a muffled noise came from you not wanting to release him from your mouth and Toji groaned.

Sukuna started curling his fingers inside of you, you're already close squeezing around Sukuna's fingers.

"Oh baby you gonna cum baby?" Pulling off of Toji. "Yes.." Toji's hand grabbed a handful of your hair. Moans forced from your throat. "A messy little thing you huh pretty girl?"

“uh..huh.” whines now coming from you with Toji holding on to you and Sukuna fingering your cunt. You’re about to lose it. Sukuna’s fingers get deeper and faster. “Wanna cum! please!” you scream out. Toji immediately shoves his cock back into your mouth. Your nose kissing his happy trail. Sukuna pulls his fingers out of you, he’s over the torture he’s been putting himself through. You whined from the loss of touch from Sukuna which caused him to give you a firm smack on your ass. Jolting you forward, forcing you further onto Toji's cock. Toji moans out but his grip loosens from your hair and Sukuna's hand replaces it pulling you completely off of Toji. Pulling your small frame against his huge one. His cock is pressing hard into your ass.

"What did I say about the pouting Brat." His voice is stern, right up against your ear. Too stunned to speak. His voice and his body making you all hot and bothered. Being so close.

His grip gets tighter and his free hand wraps around your neck more whines coming from you. "What did I say little girl."

"You don't reward.. Pouty little girls.."

"That's right.." His hand releases your throat and runs down your body. "And what did you do wrong little girl" His hand meeting your core. Toji and Sukuna both looking at you. Your eyes are silently pleading with Sukuna. Toji moves to you and spreads your legs just enough for Sukuna's cock to slip between your folds teasing your clit slightly.

"fuck.." you whispered out. Looking down at his cock. every slight twitch of his cock it hits your clit just enough to tease. but not enough to help.

"kuna please.."

"Oh now you want to talk brat. All i wanted to do was prep you for me Princess. but since you wanted to be a little brat. I guess you don't need it huh baby. You gonna take me like a big girl?"

"Yes Sir! Please!"

Sukuna makes quick work of you bending you back over. Your back in a pretty arch, as he completely sinks all 10 inches inside your pretty little cunt.

"Oh.My.Fuck!"

"Oh No no pretty girl. you gonna take it right." it was more a statement than a question but with your mushed out brain you really couldn't tell a difference.

"Yes! Please fuck me sir!"

His cock is fucking aching. He gave no mercy. slamming his cock at unholy speed. A mix of moans and screams are pulled from you. Sukuna had a rough grip on your hips. knowing if he was holding any tighter there would be bruises.

"I'm close 'Kuna! Please let me cum!"

His pace is unforgiving. the sound of his hips meeting your ass echoed through out the room.Your cunt clenched around Sukuna's cock hard. "You better not fucking cum."

You're about to lose it stuffing your face into the mattress sobs and tears falling from you.

"Sukuna please! I can't hold it!"

his cock continues to bully your cervix. his cock finally twitching inside of you. Feeling him twitch slightly made you tighten around him again."Fucking cum for me brat" his hand met your ass. As he's drilling into you somehow harder. Screaming his name, you squirted all over him. As he forces his cock deeper inside you filling your womb with his seed.

"Holy fucking shit baby."

You're gone. Your mind. Your body. Everything from this point is gone from you. Your eyes shut immediately falling into a deep slumber.

"Holy shit. Did she pass out?" Toji sounding a little worried.

"She definitely did." Sukuna pulled his now spent cock out of your cunt. a quiet whimper came from you while you slightly shifted on the bed.

"At least she's still alive" Toji joked.

"Shut up Toji. You might want to go get cleaned up pretty boy. Looks like you had a little fun" as Sukuna pointed at Toji's messy cock.

"And you say I'm the perv." As Toji walks out

Sukuna just rolled his eyes. Slowly lifting you to move you closer to the head of the bed. More whimpers just falling from you. “Kuna..” the softest whisper came from you. “Hold on baby. Imma clean you up a bit” a loud whine came from you. Your eyes were still closed but the loss of his touch made you whine. “Fine you little brat,” he said chuckling. He snuggles up next to you throwing a blanket he had nearby over the both of you.

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interesting-interludes · 3 months ago

Text

the comforts of creatures (7)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→🚪 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→🌿 genre: fantasy!au, soulmate!au, hurt + comfort + recovery, angst with a happy ending, fluff, eventual smut

→🍞 word count: 4.9k

→🍨 summary: as you settle in, jin and namjoon take you for a visit into the city clinic. you just hope you're not too far gone.

→🌾 trigger/content warnings: PTSD (low self-worth, anxiety), medical exam/hospitals, sleep deprivation, pets as coping mechanisms (yeontan will live on in this story 😢), everyone trying their best

→📔 a/n: thank you so much for your patience!! hope you enjoy :)

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 7: if only you knew

This house is bigger than you thought.

You start in the living room, with the large semicircle of couches and the wraparound windows showing the lush greenery outside. There’s an abundance of houseplants and tall, full bookshelves, with comfy looking chairs to match.

Then they lead you through the hall to the various rooms on the ground floor. There’s the infirmary room where Jin took you when you first arrived, and an open yet warm bathroom with a magnificent tub.

At the back of the house, there’s a room completely full of bookshelves and papers, with a desk and a few plush armchairs.

Then there’s a very large room filled with all sorts of strange objects: jars and beakers of all sizes, racks of dried herbs, cauldrons and vials of shimmering liquid, odd plants that you don’t recognize, leather-bound books scrawled with swirling runes. And connected to that room, a sizable greenhouse with crawling vines clinging to the walls.

It’s all so overwhelming, you can’t process all of it.

They lead you up the wide, curling staircase in the main room, and down the long hallway to a number of bedrooms. They all look completely different. One is warm, cozy, and cluttered, while another is sleek and modern and clean.

There’s a room painted all green and gold, plants crowding the space like a small jungle. And a bedroom at the end of the hall that’s almost as large as the living room. There’s a number of bathrooms, all as different as the bedrooms, and a sizable home gym.

They all hesitate at one room, though. It’s near the end of the hall, the door closed. They look at each other, expressions unreadable, and skip over it.

Jin has told you that you’re welcome in all the rooms, but you take it that you’re not allowed in that one.

You already know that you’re going to get lost here, barely remembering what each room looks like let alone where it is. But you doubt that you’ll be here long enough for it to matter.

They tell you that they have a number of pets, and they ask if you want to meet any of them.

Hesitant, all you do is nod, not sure what else to respond with.

It earns a smile from all of them, even Taehyung.

Back in the living room, Jimin leaves briefly and returns with a ginger cat in his arms. Tail swishing, the cat perches in the crook of his elbow as its amber eyes scan the room. Its nose twitches, face upturned to sniff the air.

Then its eyes land on you, and the cat jumps out of Jimin’s arms and scurries across the room.

The men blurt out a handful of warnings, either to the cat or you, it’s hard to tell. But the next second the cat is jumping up your leg and clinging to your chest.

There’s the pinprick of its claws, but you hardly notice it. Because some instinct makes your arms curl protectively around the animal. The rumbling of its purring reverberates through your chest. The cat nuzzles into your neck, paws clinging to the sleeves of your sweater.

A strange feeling floods your brain. Warm and tingly, it makes something burn behind your eyes.

You nuzzle into the cat's soft fur with only the slightest hesitation. Something nags at the edge of your mind, something that you can't grasp no matter how hard you try.

Jimin appears at your side, a near-blinding smile across his stunning face.

"His name is Fish Sticks," he says with a slight chuckle, scratching behind the cat's ears.

You’re fairly certain you would die for Fish Sticks.

The cat doesn’t let go. The rumble of his purring is the most soothing sound you’ve heard in a while.

The men exchange a few words, but you miss them, too focused on the cat and the pleasant feeling that its presence produces. It's almost like this little creature is a beacon of warmth, radiating throughout your entire being.

All of a sudden, you get the sense that one of the men is addressing you, judging from the silence in the air.

A quiet, hesitant noise comes out of your throat, a sound that's questioning and apologetic.

But the man called Namjoon just smiles in response.

"I said that our next step is probably a comprehensive exam at the clinic. Is that alright with you?"

His voice is nothing but calm, eyes watching you with a seemingly infinite amount of patience.

"Joon, she might want to take it easy for a few days," the thin dark-haired man says, you think his name is Hoseok.

"Yeah, there are still a lot of things to get used to," Jimin supplies helpfully, sending you a concerned glance.

You turn to Jin, unsure of what to do next.

"It's entirely up to you, love. Whatever you're the most comfortable with," he says, and his eyes look like pools of honey.

The cat seems to have calmed you significantly, because you look around the room and meet most of their eyes, trying to assess their expressions. They're all a mixture of tension, concern, friendliness, and some unknown emotion that you can't pin down.

"Exam?" you say to no one in particular, an uncertain question hanging in the air.

"Yes, it would just be a standard checkup at my main office. And then a few basic tests, just to see where you're at. I would facilitate everything, and you won't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with," Jin says.

"So, it would..." you start, trailing off.

"It would see if we can possibly restore some of your memories," Namjoon finishes.

You don't know how to feel about that. Memory has become a very strange thing. You don't have many, and you're not sure how many you want to regain.

Another look around the room. Jimin has that same warm, calm expression on his face. You don't know why, but you trust him. The muscular one, Jungkook, is watching you with those wide brown eyes, his face a complete contrast from the rest of his body. Hoseok and Yoongi have stern expressions, but when your gaze meets theirs, it softens. And Jin and Namjoon are waiting patiently for your answer.

These men have show you more kindness that you've ever known. The least you can do is speed up the healing process so you can get out of their hair.

You look at Jin and nod. He smiles and nods back.

You sit in the living room as they all make preparations to go into town. The cat shifts out of your arms but lingers at your side, nuzzling against you every so often.

Jin and Namjoon came to breakfast dressed in suits, looking ready to leave for work. Now they shuffle in and out of the room, packing papers and books into leather cases. The rest of the men disappear into the kitchen or down the hallway.

A few moments later, Yoongi approaches you with a pile of clothing in his arms.

"It's cold outside, you should bundle up," he says, sounding a little shy in spite of himself. He helps you shrug on a wool cardigan and then a rainproof jacket on top, given the dark clouds outside.

He sets down some thick socks and a pair of fur-lined boots by your feet, and he drops to his knees just as you're reaching for them.

Taken aback, you freeze as he gently takes your right foot and slips the sock on, then the left, then the boots.

You're almost too stunned to move, completely shocked by the act of humble kindness. In the facility, some of the guards used to force you to lick the underside of their boots, and now this man, who is almost too beautiful to look at directly, is touching your feet.

He even ties the laces for you, looking up at you with a quiet smile after he's done.

A few moments later, Jungkook approaches and hands you a colorful handheld bag.

"It's a bit of a long drive, so we packed you some snacks in case you get hungry," he says.

Again, you're stunned into silence, the lunch pack hanging limp in your hand.

You mutter out a "thank you." It comes out squeaky.

Jin slings his leather bag over his shoulder and runs a hand through his hair.

"Alright, we're all set. Ready to go?" he asks, holding out a hand.

You swallow down the fear that comes with a new environment, nodding as you take his hand. He rewards you with a radiant grin, leading you to the door.

Just before you reach the front entrance, a voice breaks through the silence.

"You'll come back, right?"

Turning around, you don't realize that it was Taehyung who said it until you meet his strangely desperate expression from across the room. And you realize that he's speaking to you directly.

Something seizes in your chest when you see the urgency in his face, the hidden sadness in his eyes. It makes you want to reassure him.

"Yes," you reply, and this time your voice comes out strong.

It seems to soothe him, for some reason, because his shoulders visibly relax and something unspoken passes between the two of you.

"We won't be gone too long," Namjoon says to the rest of them, opening the front door and letting in a gust of chill air.

The front door is massive, yet it swings open easily. A stonework pathway extends beyond it, winding under a wooden trellis draped with vines.

Entering into the yard, you realize that this is the first time you've been outside since...longer than you can remember. The two men lead you down the walkway to a driveway lined with a handful of vehicles ranging in size.

Jin opens the backdoor to a sleek black car, gesturing you inside. You slip into the backseat as Jin slips into the driver's seat and Namjoon in the passenger's side.

Jin starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on Namjoon's knee. The few pale rays of sunlight peeking through the thick cloud cover catches on his watch.

The car weaves through a twisting road downhill, lined with lush trees that create a dark green canopy overhead.

"I'm sure you have questions," Jin says, expertly navigating the vehicle down the steep road in the rainy weather. "Feel free to ask away."

You do have questions, a million of them, but you're not sure where to start. Your curiosity snags on their professional clothes.

“What do you do?” you ask hesitantly, hoping it isn’t too invasive of a question. Little did you know, they would let you live inside their brains like a parasite if you asked.

“I’m a trauma specialist,” Jin answers humbly, as if being a doctor is commonplace. “And Namjoon teaches at Duchanne University. He's working on his second book now, too."

He throws a proud glance in Namjoon's direction, and the other man rolls his eyes with a shy smile that you never could've pictured on his face.

The car is approaching the mountainside, with all its moss-covered rocks and lush trees hanging overhead, and the three of you plunge into a tunnel carved into the dark rock.

There's a few moments of darkness, and then a strange tingling sensation through your entire body. You wouldn't be surprised to find that this cave was laced with magic.

Then, you're emerging from the tunnel with a burst of pale light. Fog rolls over the hills in thick blankets, and you can see the road winding down the mountain.

In one way, it reassures you that this is a safe place, protected by the magic in the caves and the privacy of the forest. In another way, it would make it a lot harder if you ever needed to flee on foot.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"To a clinic in Burkwood, it's the closest city. If there's anything else you want, we can pick it up there too," Jin says, smiling at you through the rearview mirror.

You can't imagine what else you could possibly want. They've already shown you more kindness and generosity than you've ever known.

The drive proceeds in comfortable silence, the car rocking as it slopes down the winding roads. You have more questions, but you can't seem to think of what to start with. Your body feels heavy, and your eyelids are starting to disobey you.

They mentioned that it was a bit of a long drive, but you are too focused on keeping awake to notice much.

You vaguely register the outskirts of a town that give way to brick streets and old-looking buildings, all enrobed in thick ivy. In fact, the whole area seems to be enveloped in greenery, probably thanks to the frequent rain.

And the rain is picking up now. It makes the sidewalks, littered with fallen leaves, slick with it. Passerbys open up their umbrellas as the lampposts light up to illuminate the foggy landscape.

You're fighting the urge to drift off into sleep as Jin drives on.

Soon, you come to a wide square of cobblestoned streets, lined with grand domed buildings with rich architecture. You can still see people riding their bikes along the rain-slick streets.

Jin pulls over, sneaking a peck on Namjoon's cheek. Namjoon has gathered his bags, his glasses on, and he beams at the gesture.

"See you later, honey," Namjoon says as he glances at both you and Jin, and it's unclear who he's directing the pet name to.

He opens the door and exits with his bag in tow. You watch him walk towards one of the beautiful old buildings and disappear inside.

A short while later, Jin parks the car beside a large sleek white structure, opening the door for you and offering a hand. He stops to look at you before you enter the building.

"There will be a lot of people inside," he begins. "I won't let anyone hurt you. If you want to leave at any point, just let me know, okay?"

You manage a nod.

"Would you like me to hold your hand?" He asks, and this time you shake your head. Because no, that would be pathetic, and you hardly know him.

He justs nods in understanding, offering a small smile before leading you inside.

The smell of disinfectant immediately hits you. Gloves, plastic, metal. Needles. Doctors.

It screams the same thing in your brain: pain is coming.

And Jin was right, there are a lot of people in here. Too many bodies, too many movements and smells.

Before you even realize what you're doing, you've grabbed Jin's hand.

He stops in his tracks, looking at you in shock, and you look almost as shocked as him.

You're about to rip your hand away, but he gives you a comforting squeeze and this time he smiles so warmly his eyes crease.

Somehow, the feel of his skin feels good, despite everything. It grounds you.

The feeling in your chest hitches.

You're able to ignore the countless sights and smells around you with Jin's hand in yours, even as you hear him talking to other people and leading you down hallways.

Probably because the sleep deprivation is making it hard to even keep your eyes open.

You're shuffled through exam rooms, allowing them to check your vitals, answering the questions directed at you, though all you're able to offer is a nod or shake of the head. Jin catches on to it and reframes all questions towards you as ones that can be answered with yes or no.

You're hooked up to electrodes and wires, undergoing multiple scans in different machines.

It makes you wish you were a machine. Things would be much easier that way.

You can see several nurses talking to Jin in hushed tones, glancing in your direction every so often. Jin replies, though you can't hear it, and then the nurses look at you with pure pity in their eyes.

You remember what Jin said earlier. We protect people like us.

Sometime later, after using a considerable amount of your energy to keep from falling asleep standing up, you and Jin are led into a room with x-ray prints all along the walls.

It takes you a long time to realize the scans are of your brain, and that they're talking about you.

The doctor is pointing to different sections of the brain on the scans, but her words are muffled in your ears.

All you can register is the look on Jin's face. It's a mixture of sorrow, pain, and regret.

The only sense you can make of it is to assume that he's disappointed that you won't be out of his hair faster.

Maybe you're too far gone to be fixed. Maybe all the goods part of you died in the facility.

You're silent in the car, staring out at the darkening skies. The clouds have gotten thicker, unleashing a heavy rain. As you return to the old buildings from earlier, people hurry by under their umbrellas.

Namjoon open the passenger door, using his suit jacket as a shield. He greets Jin with a kiss, offering you a smile.

But you don't have the energy or will to even try to mirror it.

As you drive back up the mountainside, trees whizzing past the window wet with rain, you drift in and out of sleep. Jin handles the car so smoothly even through the winding roads, one hand on the wheel with the other resting somewhere on Namjoon.

You don't notice them both sneaking glances at you through the rear-view mirror, glad to see that you're getting some sleep.

When you arrive at the house, the sun is half set. You trudge up the path lined with plants, now lit by outdoor lights, reaching the massive wooden slab that is the front door.

Even in your sluggish state, you can't help but think that you'd like your home to have the same thing, if you had a home. A big sturdy door to keep others out. But this is isn't your home.

Jin and Namjoon lead you inside, and the sound of soft chatter sounds in the distance. You can smell food cooking too.

The house is darker now that the sun has set, lit up by warm ambient lighting from the lamps and elegant light fixtures all around.

You follow Jin and Namjoon into the kitchen area, spotting the bodies crowded inside. The room is bustling with activity, jazz music playing in the background.

Yoongi is standing over the stove, shifting his attention between a great big pot of boiling water, a pan full of bubbling red sauce, and a pan filled with sizzling meatballs. Jimin is chopping lettuce, Taehyung is slicing a loaf of french bread, and Jungkook is shredding cheese.

All of their eyes immediately find yours when you enter the room, Jimin and Yoongi offering a smile, Jungkook and Taehyung looking at you with a hopeful expression.

"Welcome home," Jimin says, eyes crinkling.

It makes a very weird sensation bloom in your lungs. The idea of home is bitter.

Jin and Namjoon set down their coats and briefcases, greeting the others warmly.

You stand there awkwardly, not sure what to do. Yoongi and Jimin pick up on it almost immediately.

"Do you want to come and sit here?" Jimin says (cutting himself off from saying your name), gesturing to the row of stools along the opposite side of the kitchen counter.

You take him up on his offer, eager to have something to do.

The kitchen is flush with heat from the cooking, but you can still hear the rain pounding outside from the cracked window above the sink.

Jungkook pauses his cheese-shredding to provide Jin with a glass of red wine and Namjoon with a whiskey cocktail of some kind, giving each of them a kiss on the cheek as he does so.

You sit there and watch it all unfold.

Yoongi boils the pasta as he watches the sauce and meatballs simmer. Jimin prepares a ceasar salad with grilled chicken, croutons, and freshly shredded cheese (thanks to Jungkook). And Taehyung spreads butter, herbs, garlic, and cheese on the bread slices and places them in the oven.

At some point, Hobi comes down the stairs and into the room, slick with sweat and panting slightly. He sends a radiant smile your way when he sees you.

Soon, the table is set and everyone's gathering around, Yoongi gesturing for you to sit with them.

Jin and Namjoon sit at either head of the long table, you falling into the seat in-between Jimin and Jungkook.

Bowls of pasta and meatballs are served, garnished with fresh herbs and grated cheese. Jungkook helps load a side of salad and garlic bread onto your plate like it's the most natural thing in the world.

This time, you don't hesitate to dive into the food. Everyone notices, but they just exchange happy glances between themselves to avoid making you feel uncomfortable.

The food they make is ridiculously good. The pasta, tomato sauce, and savory meatballs warm your insides, providing ample protein to help you feel stronger. The salad is crisp and refreshing, the bread soft and salty.

The men around you are chatting pleasantly, every once in a while attempting to lure you into the conversation, but you have absolutely no interest in that. Your brain is still sluggish with exhaustion. Right now you’re just glad the food isn’t upsetting your stomach.

You don’t see it, of course, but a steady stream of warmth fills their hearts whenever they look up and see you sitting at the table, eating as much as you want.

After dinner, Hoseok and Jungkook start on the dishes while you follow the rest of them to the living room. The soft jazz is still playing, some of them refilling their wine glasses before they settle on the couch.

They’re still trying to talk to you.

“How’s your stomach?” Jin asks. You nod as if to say alright.

“Did you get some sleep on the drive home?” Yoongi asks. You nod again, even though you know this isn’t your home.

“Would you like to meet more of the pets?” Jimin asks. You nod more firmly this time.

He rushes off to another room with a big smile.

You reacted well to Fish Sticks, so they decide to let the rest of the cats out.

There’s Hepburn, a regal-looking fluffy white cat with iridescent blue eyes. She looks up at you from the floor and rubs against your legs.

Then there’s Grease, a black cat with very large green eyes and fangs that poke out from his mouth. He tries to crawl up your pants, but after a stern word from the men, he settles to just hop around your ankles.

Finally there’s Potbelly, clearly a little bit older and slightly chunky, with a smattering of brown, orange and white fur. He nuzzles against your hand briefly before sauntering away, disinterested.

You react very fondly to all the cats, stooping down to scratch behind their ears.

“Would you like to meet the dogs?” Jimin asks next, watching your face closely for your reaction.

They’re not sure if you encountered any guard dogs at the facility.

Unlikely, because your face only turns more interested, and you give an eager nod.

They bring them out one at a time. The smallest first, Yeontan, a dark fluffy Pomeranian who yips happily at the sight of you.

You notice a very strange expression come across Taehyung’s face.

Then there’s Mickey, a small brown and white dog that approaches you excitedly yet gently. Then Holly, a brown curly-haired dog that tries very adamantly to sit in your lap. Then Bam, a sleek Doberman that jumps and runs circles around your form when he sees you.

“Gentle, gentle,” Jungkook instructs the dog when he almost tackles you.

Then Jimin brings in a fluffy golden retriever, who is yanking desperately on the leash in both Jimin’s hands.

“Toast, calm down, girl!” Jimin says as he gets dragged along.

But when the dog sees you, she lets out a sharp whimper, shooting towards you like a bullet. The leash is yanked out of Jimin’s hands as she barrels into your legs, letting out little whines and happy-sounding barks.

Something makes you sink to your knees and wrap your arms around the dog, some deep and heavy urge that grips you like a clenched fist. You gulp an inhale of the dog’s somehow familiar scent, and tears nearly spring into your eyes.

Everyone around you is about to cry too. Toast is your dog.

She smelled you almost as soon as you entered the house. It broke their hearts to keep her separated from you, since they had no idea how you’d react. She nearly broke the door down trying to get to you.

She’s panting as you pet her head, her tongue hanging out of her grinning mouth, tail wagging rapidly.

If you’d die for Fish Sticks, then you’d go to war for Toast.

You stay on the ground petting her for a while, the boys watching you fondly. At some point, you find your eyelids drooping again, belly full and worn out from all the interaction.

“Are you ready to wash up and settle in for bed?” Jimin asks you, very much fighting the urge to coo at how cute you look while comfortably half-asleep.

You nod and follow him upstairs. He gives you a set of striped pajama pants and matching button-up as you wash off with another wet washcloth, Toast sticking to your side like Velcro the entire time.

Downstairs, everyone crowds around Jin and Namjoon, asking how the tests at the clinic went, barely concealed hope in their eyes.

But they shake their heads solemnly.

“The spell was at nearly full strength. Nothing can be recovered,” Jin says. “But otherwise she’s healthy.”

Their faces fall a bit, but they figured that it would take a miracle for your memories to get brought back. Even if it were possible, the process would no doubt cause you extreme pain, and none of them want that.

Taehyung, though, has tears in his eyes again. He brings his hand up to his forehead.

If only you knew, Tae thinks. If only you knew just how much they love you, how much he loves you.

But he knows that you’re uncomfortable around him. And the awful thought did cross his mind: what if you never love him again?

Jungkook rubs Taehyung’s back as more tears fall. He can see the pain in Taehyung's face, the pain that screams please don't forget me and all the things we shared.

But it can't be helped. All they can do is help you as much as they can.

"She's just...gone," Taehyung chokes out.

Namjoon swoopes in right away.

"She's still her, just a little lost," he says.

"But she recognized Toast," Taehyung mumbles, dejected. Because why didn't you react that way to any of them?

"It's instinctual, muscle memory," Yoongi cuts in firmly. "You can erase the memories, but you can't completely erase the feelings that come with them."

Jin places a hand on Taehyung's shoulder, leaning into him.

"I'm sure she recognizes us, in a sense. She just can't express it because we're...people. Animals are easy, they don't judge. But people...it's people that hurt her," Jin says, rubbing soothing circles across Tae's shoulders.

The younger man nods, wiping his tears. He's gone silent, now. Jungkook helps him up the stairs to get ready for bed.

Later that night, Namjoon brings a half-empty bottle of rosé and two glasses up to his and Jin's shared bedroom.

Jin is fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a bathrobe, hair still wet, a medical newsletter in his hand.

Namjoon puts the glass in his empty hand and fills it up. Jin smiles at him gratefully.

"Quite a day, huh?" Namjoon says as he pours a glass for himself.

Jin looks lost in thought.

"I'm worried about Tae," he says solemnly.

Namjoon pauses, then comes to perch on the armrest of the chair Jin is sitting in.

"He's still in denial. It's a hard pill to swallow," Namjoon says, wrapping an arm around his other half.

"Indeed it is," Jin replies, sipping at his wine.

"He'll come around," Namjoon insists.

"I know he will. It's just..." Jin trails off.

"Yes, love?" Namjoon prompts.

"There's this tension between them that I don't understand," he says. "I think Tae is mourning her old self because he doesn't think her new self will connect with him."

"Hmm," Namjoon says, thinking. "I think you're right. But we'll be there, to help both of them. That's what they need right now, for someone to guide and support them into a new state of being."

Jin downs the rest of his wine, beaming up at his partner.

"I love you, you know that?" he says, grinning.

"Of course I do," Namjoon replied, grinning back.

"Now come on, let's get in bed."

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i would literally sell my left tit to hear any of your thoughts!

#bts ot7 x reader #bts soulmate au #bts ot7 #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x female reader #bts fanfction #bts slow burn #bts fantasy au #bts ot7 fic #bts series #bts hurt/comfort

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