#his ass is not making it past 29

[razzlerus]

old old man (he’s 29) pushing fifty (he’s 29) he’s halfway in the grave already (i’m worried for him) 💀🪦🕊️

[dollfacefantasy]

PRETTY AS A PRINCESS ♡

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: you and logan have to work on halloween, but on the bright side, that means you get to dress up. and even better, you get to give him a little preview of the costume you've chosen.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, ddlg, slight dumbification

wc: 3.2k

a/n: reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <33

kinktober slot: day 29 - ddlg

"You sure you don't need my help in there?" Logan calls to you.

"I got it. Just gimme a second," your voice responds, slightly muffled from the walk-in closet door separating the two of you, "So impatient."

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, a smile rising to his lips. Normally, that comment would get you a small swat on the ass, but he decides to let it go for now.  You were in a particularly good mood today. The two of you had been assigned a mission next week that fell on Halloween. At first, you'd been unhappy about that, but then the professor informed you that it meant you were going undercover at a Halloween party - which meant you got to dress up.

For the past couple weeks, you'd been thinking about this costume choice as if it was the most important decision you'll ever make in your life. There were just so many options as you'd put it. So many colors and cuts. 

He knew you, so he knew it'd be something cute. But thus far, you hadn't actually shown him what you picked. Today it arrived in the mail, which is why tonight, you made a big deal of revealing it to him.

"Are you ready?" you finally ask.

"I've been ready. Let's see it."

The closet door creaks open. Before you exit, you peak your head out, flashing him a quick smile. Your excitement oozes from every pore on your body, flooding the room as you finally step out from behind the mahogany.

His prediction had been right - you look very cute. You strut out to him in what seems to be a princess costume. A tight corset wraps around your waist while frills and lace compliments your bust. The skirt goes down to your mid thigh, flowy and sweet while teasing enough flesh to be seductive. A sparkling tiara rests atop your head, and long, smooth gloves cover you fingertip to elbow. 

Skipping over, you stop in front of him. "So... what do you think?" you ask with a coy cock of your head.

His eyes scan you up and down, but of course, his mind has been made.

"Do you really have to ask?" he teases, "You look beautiful."

A bright smile spreads over your face when the inevitable answer hits your ears.

He chuckles at the reaction and reaches out to grab your waist. He really does adore this little get-up. It suits you just right, and on top of that, he can already tell how it makes you feel.

From the beginning of your relationship, Logan had a suspicion you'd be into this kind of thing. The whole princess thing. And along with that, the whole daddy thing. 

While you could be fierce in the field, sharp and quick, there was another side to you. A side that liked things soft and gentle, that yearned to be taken care of. It was the same part of you that came out when he sat you on his lap, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. The part that made your head go fuzzy and your eyes glossy when he'd speak in a lower tone or call you a sweet name.

Over the course of knowing you, he'd found there were more triggers than delicate touches and tender words though. It was easier for you to slip into this dreamier headspace when you were tired or sad. You also liked when he took over simple tasks for you. But another one was definitely when you felt pretty. That always seemed to bring the d-word out from between those plush lips.

He found it a little odd at first, but he loved you. He could roll with you calling him daddy if that's what you wanted. And after a while, it didn't seem so strange anymore. He found himself craving your voice ringing out those two syllables, calling for only him when you felt your most vulnerable.

He spins you around between his thighs and kisses the warm back of your neck. The zipper on your dress hadn't been pulled all the way up. His fingers find the small metal piece to tug, pulling on it a little to tease before fixing the garment.

"Were you gonna wear it like this to the party, babydoll?" he asks, voice slipping into that lovingly condescending tone, "Give everybody there a nice show?"

A giggle bursts from you. Vibrates up your sternum through your throat and from your mouth. With how close he is to you, he can feel each bit.

"No," you say as if it's obvious. From your cadence alone, he can tell his set of suspicions was correct. You're starting to slip.

"So you need daddy's help then?" he mocks, dropping his voice. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, tugging a little and beckoning more laughter from you.

"I guess..."

"You could've just said that then. I know my little girl can't be expected to do everything on her own."

You hum with petulant agreement. Your head tilts back to rest on his shoulder at the same time the back of your dress closes up. He kisses up your spine, the metal teeth chasing his lips.

"There we go," he says with a small pat to your hip.

You turn around to face him again. The fabric of your skirt flies up a little with the mini twirl. He smooths it back down for you before gazing at those eyes glimmering with admiration.

"Could you help me with my socks and shoes too? I accidentally forgot them out here."

"Did you now?" he smirks. He knows your games. If he doesn't offer to do things for you, then you make sure to create a situation in which the chances of that happening increase.

"Mhm," you say, nodding up and down in big bobs.

"Well go get them, and bring 'em here."

Obeying the command like it's a second nature, you pad over to the chair by the closet and dig inside the package to get the matching pieces to this outfit. He watches you pull out ivory thigh highs with little bows at the meshy hems and a pair of dainty heels. 

The items swing back and forth at your sides as you waltz to him. He takes them from you and sets them on the mattress. Standing up, his form rises above your own. He guides you so that your positions are reversed. Your thighs press against the blankets before he guides you down to sit.

"Be a good girl and sit still for me now. We'll get you all dolled up," he directs.

In a move no one else besides you ever sees, he crouches down before you. He gets on his knee and grabs one of the socks off the bed. The material stretches under his careful fingers as he prepares it for you. One of his hands takes your ankle, boosting your leg up.

The thin, white fabric slides over your foot first. Just as he did with the zipper, he kisses your ankle, then your calve, your knee and then your thigh. He feels your pupils lock on him. He doesn't even have to look up. His mind knows the way they’re dilating while set upon him.

He shimmies the sleeve around your leg, making sure the little bow sits at the front. "That look right?" Now his eyes look up at your own.

The two small spheres look as he'd imagined, blown-out and ultra-focused on him. Your bottom lip is between your teeth too. "Mhm. Thank you, daddy," you answer softly.

"No problem, baby."

Now, he moves to your other limb. He repeats the process. Smooches land on your skin, flowing along the path the sock follows. That one gets put in the proper place too. He pushes your legs together, looking at the pair next to each other. The bows sit there staring back at him. He didn't know how he was supposed to focus on whatever you were actually going to this halloween party for when you looked like this.

"Cute, huh?" he asks.

You nod and smile.

After seeing your legs closed, the only natural next move would be to spread them apart. His thumbs hook against your inner thighs, the rest of his digits curling over the rest of the doughy flesh. He pushes them away from each other. The growing distance causes the silky skirt to ride up and allows him to see what you wear beneath your pretty dress.

Matching panties. The same kind of lace that framed your collar fans across your pelvis. It's fashioned in the same style and color as the rest of what you're wearing. He can feel heat pooling between his legs just from a quick glance.

"Are these new too?" he asks, tugging you to the edge of the mattress and pushing your skirt away.

"Yeah... Do you like them?" you check.

"You're smarter than that, baby," he says. He leans in and presses a kiss to your cunt over the fabric. The gesture's so chaste, but you feel your tummy flutter with the first beat of arousal.

"I just wanna make sure since I got them for you," you tell him.

"All for me? Never knew you could be so thoughtful, sweetheart."

You scoff and pout at him from above. "Yes you did."

He laughs softly at that and pecks your inner thigh a few times as penance. "Maybe. I guess you can be sweet when you wanna."

His tongue flicks out to lick back up to the new panties. The scent of your desire grows more prevalent. He knows you're getting wet for him. Bringing one finger up, he traces over the cloth, from where your slit is to your cute little clit. He does that a few times before hooking around the entire section and pulling it aside. Like he expected, your folds glisten for him.

"Poor baby. Is daddy getting you all messy?" he coos with a smug look.

"Yeah," you whimper. The shudder you'd been repressing washes over your body.

"It's only right I clean my pretty princess up then, hm?" he asks, still mocking you with his eyes.

You nod again, your confirmation wordless this time.

He brings his face to your center and lays a more passionate kiss upon the slick skin. His lips engulf your sex, his tongue dancing against your clit teasingly. Instantly, you whine and dig your gloved fingers into the sheets. Your legs find their places on his shoulders, convincing him to lean deeper into the junction of your thighs.

His tongue flattens, lapping your pussy with a nearly feral lust. It's no secret that Logan loves your taste. Not a drop of you goes to waste if he can spare it. He feels your thighs quivering against each side of his head and brings his free hand to rest on top of one. The security of him holding you there settles you slightly. But the position also gives him leverage to keep you close.

He sucks on your clit and then fucks his tongue into you. You try to writhe. Your hips buck at the onslaught of pleasure flaring up at your core, but he has an inhumane grip on you. You haven't cum yet, but you're gushing onto his face all the same.

"Daddy," you mewl, barely able to get the word out, "You're gonna ruin the underwear."

He's rock hard now at the whiny sound of your voice. You always get that way when you're near the edge. Your lip starts to wobble. Your voice gets pitchy as your demands grow needy. The look in your eyes just makes everything you say sound like begging.

Not one to normally be interrupted, he twirls the tip of his tongue around your bundle of nerves. But the words you spoke begin to register in his brain, and he reluctantly pulls back. His eyelids droop down with lust. Your fluids coat his chin and make some of his facial hair shimmer from the wetness.

"That's true, baby. Can't get these all soaked and destroyed before the party."

He rises to his feet again, pulling your panties all the way off simultaneously. Then his hands drop to his pants. He rids himself of his belt and undoes his fly.

"Plus, I think I have another way I can show you how much I like this new dress."

Taking his cock out, he tugs on it a few times. A few pearls of precum bead at the tip. His favorite part about getting his dick out is watching your reaction to it. No matter how many times you've seen it, you still seem so in awe. You marvel at the size and the way it flushes. Your eyes track the veins sprawling over it and sneak a glance at the heavy set of balls hanging below his shaft. He doesn't think you could look any more longing if you tried.

You're already soaked, so all he has to do is line up and slide in. Whining as he pounds himself into the hilt, your eyes start to go starry. He gets a firm grip on the swell of your hips in order to drag himself back and then pump himself forward again.

"Daddy... slow down," you pout, "s'too big."

He chuckles at your performance and slams in again just as hard. "No, no. C'mon, baby. Daddy needs this. He's gotta show you what you do to him in this little dress. And I know you can take it."

His hips continue to bump your ass as he thrusts back and forth. It's easy for him to find the rhythm you like. He settles into it and rocks in and out of your tight cunt. It feels like pure, concentrated bliss for him; always does. Your velvety walls, spasming and sucking on his cock. Silently crying 'more more more.'

"Pretty girl... we're gonna be doing this at the party too if you're not careful," he grunts.

You babble and squirm on the bed, lazily nodding at the sound of his voice. It's so cute, he thinks. The way you go dumb so quick and easy.

"Mhm. You're gonna drive me crazy. Might have to pull you into one of the bathrooms and bend you over the counter. See how cute this outfit looks from the back," he continues.

Your back arches off the plush surface. A physical stamp of approval on his plan.

"Gonna have you screaming so loud everyone there hears and knows what a good girl you are for your daddy," he breathes.

Leaning down, he removes a hand from your hip and brings it to cup your jaw. The pads of his fingers dig into your fleshy cheeks. Your lips puff out a little, begging for a kiss. He gives you a quick peck but never stops the ricocheting of his pelvis.

"You're so precious," he murmurs against your skin.

Meanwhile, his hips seem like their mission is to obliterate you down below. They ram forward and back, jostling your body on the bed. You can barely find the will to choke out "Daddy, daddy, daddy. Can I cum? Please."

Your voice is wrecked, even pitchier than before. He bobbles your head into a little nod with his hand. Your glassy eyes stay on him the whole time though. 

"Yeah, you can," he agrees.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you babble and fling your arms around him to keep him close. Not that he was going anywhere. He stays balls deep in you through the sensation of you tightening up and gushing all over him. Your walls flutter and squeeze. You writhe like you're possessed, and your eyes give that same impression as they roll back. Half-words spill from your lips begging, "Da- Plea- oh fuck-"

"Language, baby," he chides mockingly, his own tone growing strained.

You respond with total sincerity though. "'m sorry, daddy. Just- hnnngh- just feels so good."

"I know it does. Too much for you to handle, hm?"

You shake your head but the motion is so wild, it barely comes across as a declaration of disagreement.

"Use your big girl words, sweetheart," he coos. His desire tightens between his hips. He feels the familiar pressure and the way his balls draw up with the need to spill inside you.

"I can do it- ah!" you squeal, "I can take it. Just want daddy to finish inside."

His face falls down to rest in the crook of your neck. "If that's what you want, princess."

They're the last words he gets out before a groan rumbles in his chest. His release fires out with fervor. Spills into you in strong ropes. You sigh, eyes rolling back as warm satisfaction fizzles in your belly. The sensation melts you down from the whiny mess you had been into a boneless, whimpering puddle.

He pants against your skin. Hot puffs of air hit your neck as he starts coming down. Slowly, his cock slides out of you, popping out with a squelch. Two thick fingers find your hole and fuck the cum that was leaking out of you back in. You whimper at the intrusion to your sensitive cunt, but he smirks at you.

"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok, baby. We don't want any of this getting on your pretty dress, do we? Can't make a mess of it yet."

Your head bobbles in lazy agreement. He continues pumping his fingers into your soaked entrance while placing gentle kisses all over your face. 

When he finishes, he pulls your panties and his pants back up and then recedes to his knees again. He takes the heels from the bed and slides your feet into them. Taking care to make sure the strap is in place, he fastens the buckle on each and then lets them fall to the floor.

"Think you can walk in those still? Or did daddy get you too dizzy?" he asks.

"I can," you huff.

Pushing yourself off the bed, your legs wobble like those of a baby deer. You move across the bedroom, swaying a little but not enough to topple over and crash to the ground. He can tell you're waddling slightly, probably from the cum slowly seeping out of you again.

The costume looks gorgeous as ever with all the pieces put together. You readjust the tiara on your head and do a little spin for him before heading back over to the chair you initially pulled this dress from. You fish out what seems to be a basic wolf mask and show it to him.

"I got this for you," you beam.

His eyebrows raise incredulously. "I'm not wearing that."

You give him a look of your own, seconds away from stamping your foot. "Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Am not."

"Are too! You have to dress up, Charles already said!" you insist and bring the mask to him, "Plus don't you wanna match? It's like beauty and the beast."

He barks out a laugh. "Is that what I am to you? A beast?" he teases, pulling you close again.

"Well yeah, but in a good way," you grin.

"Hm. We'll see. I'll think about it," he says.

You're about to whine out a please, but he stops you with a kiss. He knows he'll be hearing tons of that for the next few weeks.

[chaoticace2005]

Rules for the Hazbin Hotel, authored by Vaggie:

1. No drugs.

2. No fights.

3. No pranks.

4. No problematic language.

5. No murder (OR TERRITORIAL GENOCIDE WHAT THE FUCK ANGEL)

6. No smuggling in of drugs. Not by sticking them up your ass. Or by hiding them in a pizza box. Or by slingshotting them to the roof. Or getting someone else to. Not at all.

7. No sexual rendezvous with outsiders in the hotel. No SHOWING sexual rendezvous with strangers to people of the hotel either.

8. Make sure the pig/future pets stay in the patron’s room. (This includes eggs!!)

9. No singing Limit singing to once twice per day

10. Stop flirting with the bartender Angel

11. Don’t call Husk “Husker” unless he allows it.

12. No harassing the staff at all. This includes asking who tops.

13. Don’t suggest anything sexual/romantic to Alastor unless you want your head cut off.

14. NO CUTTING OFF PEOPLE’S HEADS

15. NO EATING PEOPLE

16. NO MAKING CHARLIE CRY.

17. Don’t ask me to put my spear “inside you” Angel, what the fuck?

18. Don’t turn the interior of the hotel into a swamp?! Keep it contained in your room if you must!

19. No stabbing staff or residents. No matter how much they look like bugs! (OR IF THEYRE NAME IS ANGEL)

20. Don’t try and stab bugs if they’re within 10 feet of another demon.

21. Don’t call anyone a “bitch” OR TALK ABOUT HOW MY NAME SOUNDS LIKE “VAGINA”

22. Limit Niffty’s access to sharp objects.

23. NO DEALS ALASTOR

24. No drinking. Limit drinking at bar.

25. No mentioning the Stock Market Crash of 1929. For everyone’s benefit.

26. Don’t blow a hole in the wall.

27. Try to keep roast battles OUTSIDE the hotel. (Or stop picking fights?? Please Alastor I swear to God…)

28. No spying on the hotel for outside sources or putting technology that can be used against us.

29. No evil laughing in the middle of the night, what the fuck Alastor?

30. No building weapons/war machines.

31. No eggs! (Fine the eggs can stay.)

32. Someone please keep an eye on Niffty. (And the eggs.)

33. Stop touching people ANGEL.

34. Don’t make other people storm off HUSK.

35. Respect boundaries.

36a. If Angel looks like he’s about to pass out/cry don’t comment. Let him do his thing.

36b. Don’t try to talk to Angel if he’s on the phone with Valentino. Honestly don’t even mention his phone calls with Valentino.

37. Please don’t call Lucifer “Daddy”

38. Don’t turn into a 20 foot tall demon-eating creature unless absolutely necessary.

39. Don’t cause angry loan sharks to show up at the front door.

40. NO EXPLOSIONS!

41. Rule #2, “No fights” can be broken if the person you’re fighting is Valentino. Or Adam.

42. Don’t lie to your girlfriend or hide the fact you were secretly an angel.

43. DONT TALK ABOUT PEOPLE’S TITS (or lack of)

44. KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING A BEDROOM ESPECIALLY IF SOMEONE’S HAVING MAKEUP SEX

45. Don’t give people makeovers while they’re sleeping, ANGEL!

46. Don’t pretend to eat someone’s pet, ALASTOR

47. Don’t die.

48. I never want to hear the words “cum-plete” again.

49. STOP HAVING FIGHTS ACROSS THE BUILDING LUCIFER AND ALASTOR!!

50. If Charlie is passed out on the couch LET HER SLEEP

51. No making bombs in the hotel Cherri!

52. Stop breaking rules and then saying it’s “FOR SIR PENTIOUS!”

53. Angel don’t try to shoot someone if they break spaghetti.

54. Don’t break spaghetti. Or “ruin” Italian food. Whatever the fuck that means. This apparently includes pineapple on pizza.

55. Don’t mention Valentino unless Angel brings him up first.

56. Don’t comment on Angel and Husk’s flirting.

57. Only call Angel “Anthony” if things are serious (or if you’re Husk)

58. Don’t use any of the nicknames Husk and Angel use for each other. This includes but is not limited to: “Whiskers”, “Legs”, “Kitty”, “Webs”, “Tony”, “Love”, and “Baby.”

59. It’s better not to question whatever facts Husk gives about his past.

60. Family dinners at 6 pm unless you can’t make it due to prior obligation. Game nights after on Sundays.

61. No hunting people for sport and NO KNIFE MONOPOLY.

62. Don’t attach knives to a roomba so you can have a “boyfriend” Niffty.

63. Keep Niffty away from Roombas.

64. Alastor, treat people with decency. Really, it’s not that hard.

65. No making giant ducks that breathe fire to chase people around the hotel just because they call you short.

66. Therapy. Everyone.

67. DONT HAVE SEX ON THE BAR WHAT THE FUCK GUYS?!

68. If Valentino enters the property you have permission to stab him.

69. “Hell is forever” is bullshit. You guys aren’t. You can do this.

[sweetblossomsss]

I’ll be back || CHOI SAN

Synopsis: You don’t understand what happened for him to suddenly disappear. You don’t understand why the police tells you there is no one by the name of Choi San— as if he never existed. You don’t understand why he came back to you, five years later.

WARNINGS: one shot, cursing, crying (lots), ANGST (my fav), fluff, happy ending, SMUT, rough sex, choking, pet name of baby to Y/N, drinking, drunkenness, throwing things, San was affiliated with a gang, Y/N owns a gun, oral (f receiving), mentions of San’s gruesome crimes, back and forth between Y/N and San (ish), Y/N take San back way too easily (lmao), throwing up (only once), I’m sure I’m missing some stuff just lmk. San's POV POSTED

Word Count: 12k Started: February 2024. Finished: Nov 29, 2024

Blossom’s Note: Hello my petals, hope all is good. Coming at you with a Choi San one shot. Title was inspired by 2pm’s I’ll be back (chefs kiss song). Story was inspired by both the song and the line in John Wick when the father told the son that in order for him to get out, he had to do the impossible. Please keep in mind that this is no where near the same as the movie nor will any killings be mentioned. Now grab some popcorn and a drink and enjoy!

PAST

Silence takes over the room while the distant, muffled voices of your neighbors outside your apartment speak amongst themselves in the hallway, radiating some noise in the room. Dogs in different apartments barked at them, alerting everyone in the complex that people are walking by. Soon the faint sounds of keys jiggling can be heard as they stepped into their respective home and then—complete silence.

The room was dimly lit by your lamp with a fading bulb on its last life—that you always forget to change. You laid on your stomach, resting your head on your arms that was propped on top of your cushioned pillow as you slowly kicked your legs up and down, staring into his eyes as if you were locked in a trance by his gaze.

His fingers traced caressing patterns on your back, making you bit your lower lip gently as you felt the goosebumps form on your skin. He was lying on his side, his hand propped up to hold his head as he other hand roamed your back lovingly.

He gives you a small smirk, nodding his head to signal you to get on top of him. “Come here.” He said in a low voice as he laid on his back, placing an arm behind his head to get a good view of you on top. His favorite view.

You felt giddy inside, smiling as you got up. You quickly threw a leg over, straddling him. He wasted no time in gliding his free hand from your thigh to your ass giving it a slight squeeze. You placed your hands on his chest for support to which he slide the same hand up your arm and cups the side of your face.

You two stare into each other, all mesmerized as he caressed your cheek with his thumb causing you to lean into his touch. You closed your eyes, feeling the comforting warmth of his hand radiating on your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said in a sweet voice. You opened your eyes to catch him already looking into your eyes. “I could stay in this moment forever,” he said watching you slightly turn to the side as you kissed his palm. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him as you ghost your lips over his, “Just you and me.”

Oh, the way your stomach flips at his words especially when he talks in a low tone. He removes the hand behind his head, placing both of them under your shirt wanting to feel your skin, scrunching up your oversized shirt a little bit from his caressing movements.

You hummed in agreement, “Just you and me.” You repeated, pecking his lips once, “Forever.” You said before leaning back down to capture his lips. You feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, wanting to feel you closer—if that was even possible.

You moan slightly into his mouth, feeling the kiss starting to pick up. He cups your ass, giving it a nice squeeze as you raised your hand up to his hair tugging slightly making him moan in delight. Just as this moment was starting to heat up and get spicy—“Let’s runaway.” He breaks the kiss.

You looked at him, he was panting slightly trying to catch his breath as his eyes gleamed a bit. You panted as you sat up, tilting your head to the side, “What?” You asked with a playful smile on your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows.

Did he really leave you hot and bothered to say some stupid shit? Leave it to San to cockblock the fuck out of the both of you with his random thoughts.

He sits up, adjusting himself underneath you as he wraps his arms around your waist again as your hands make home in his hair as you caressed it. “You heard me,” he said, “let’s runaway. Just you and me, mm? What do you think?” He said ask he peppered kissed on your neck.

You chuckled at his words, tilting your head more as he kept leaving kisses on your neck down to your collarbone, “what I think is that you’re dumb. Did you really stop us for that?” You laughed, reaching to cup his face as you looked down at him. He nodded, “I’m being serious!” He pouted at you.

You sighed. “Okay. Say we were to,” you say playing along with his idea,“where would we go?” You asked him, leaning down to kiss away his pout.

He looks back and forth between your eyes, smirking as he flips you onto your back causing you yelp in surprise. “Anywhere you want to go,” he grabs your legs, wanting to feel them wrapped around him, “Whatever you want,” He says leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “I’ll do it for you.” His kisses trail down to your jaw. “Anything you want.” Down your neck as he caressed your leg.

You licked your lips and slightly moan at the sensation. “Mmm, anything?” You asked him raising an eyebrow as you tilt your head to look at him. “Anything, baby.” He looked up from the crook of your neck.

You shook your head, “You’re so silly. You know we can’t do that.” You smiled at him but then turned serious, “Plus can you even afford me? I’m quite expensive.” You lifted your hand up, examining your nails acting all snobby like turning your head to the side.

He pauses for a second, sitting up. He scoffs, “Excuse me?” Hand on his chest feigning to be offended.

You looked at him and eyed him up and down, playfully judging him and shrugged, “I have expensive taste and demands that need to met.” You said crossing your arms.

“Hit me with whatever you want. I can afford it.” He extends his arms out to the side as if saying do-you-know-who-the-fuck-I-am.

You scoffed, eyeing him up and down, “I don’t want to work.”

“Done.”

“I want to be a housewife.”

“Done.”

“I want different color Lamborghinis to match my moods for the day.”

“Done.”

“I want a private chef. I want to be carried everywhere.”

“Done and done.”

You two stayed silent, looking at each other with a serious look before bursting into laughter. The laughter you two created sounded like the most beautiful music to your ears. You loved having these silly moments with him.

While the laughter subsided, San places his hands on each side of your head, leaning forward. ”Y/N,” He says, your hands slide up and down his muscular arms. “Let’s just do it, huh? We can go and get married,” He places a kiss on your lips, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “we can have six kids-“

“Six?! The fuc-“ you cut him off with widen eyes, raising both of your eyebrows.

“They will have your sparkling eyes, your beautiful smile,” he cuts you off, ignoring you which caused you to roll your eyes, “they can have my nose, maybe my eyebrows or ears. We can raise them the best we can, we can put them sports, watch them get married, travel when they all leave the house, be the best grandparents ever-“ he cuts himself off as he clears his throat, feeling a bit saddened, but you’re too distracted by his story to catch onto it. “We can grow old together and be buried next to each other. With that, we stay together forever.”

You cup his cheek, “Seems like you got this all figured out, huh?” You smiled at him. “How did a girl like me get so lucky?”

“Oh, baby,” he said in a matter of factly tone, “With me you won’t have to think or worry about anything.” He smirked at you, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it.

There was a moment of silence as you two looked into each other’s eyes all in love. But then San got off of you which made you confused as you furrowed your eyebrows. “San? What are you doing?” You asked him, confused by his actions as his back faces you.

You sit up and sat in the middle of the bed, about to reach out of him but took your hand back abruptly when you saw San turning around and giving you a serious look. He suddenly gets down on one knee. “Y/N,” he said in a serious tone, causing you to cover your face as you fell back laughing, “San, what are you doing?” You asked him as you sat back up with a huge shock smile on your face.

“Y/N,” he repeats again. He inhales and exhales, closing his eyes before looking back into your eyes. “Baby the second my eyes laid on you, my heart knew that you were the one I wanted to spend forever with. I want to wake up and have your eyes be the first thing and the last thing I see. There aren’t enough words to describe the love I have for you.”

You feel yourself getting teary eyed as you scoff out a smile, not believing that he is doing this. “I know, I don’t have a ring right now, but trust me when I say that when I do get it, it will have the biggest gem that represents the immense love I have for you.” He said watching you sniff up your tears. “Will you marry me? Because I don’t want to do life without you.”

You gasped at his words, crying for a few moments before sniffing up your runny nose as you used the back of your hand to wipe your falling tears, “San,” your voice cracks out, as you placed a hand on your chest. “Yes!” You breathed out a smile, “Yes, I will marry you.”

He finally exhales a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Yes?” He asks you as he broke out into the biggest smile ever and you nodded quickly, “Yes, San, yes.” You repeated as he helped you stand up.

He picked up, you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist as he spins you both around in his arms. You leaned your forehead against his, “You scared me,” he said, “What took you so long in answering!”

You kissed his pout, “I’m sorry,” you laughed, “I had to make sure. You know I’m expensive.” You joked.

He gives you a deadpan look, “Really?” He said in a monotone voice causing you to burst out into laughter as you leaned your forehead against his again, cupping his face, “No, my idiot. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. I’m going to marry my soulmate. I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

“You’re the one for me,” he said looking into your eyes. If you weren’t so high from the moment, you could’ve sworn there was sadness in his eyes. “I just- I don’t want to wait anymore.” He cleared his throat, “You’re the one for me, Y/N.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he repeated himself.

After a minute, he clears his throat, “Now,” he says as he tosses you on the bed causing you to yell in shock as you sit up and give him a glare. He takes off his shirt and throws it somewhere behind him as he spreads your legs, ignoring the pissed off look you have with a smirk on his face, “Should we start with baby number one? Or will we get lucky and have triplets first round?”

“San-“ he cuts you with the smirk still etched on his face as he kissed you. He knew damn well you were gonna bring up the topic of six kids, but that’s for another time. Right now, he wants to cherish this moment with you. Just one last time.

You hated how easily he captivated you and how easy he had you under his finger. Without trying to break contact with you, his hand struggles to turn off the light as he taps everything but the switch. He groans in frustration as he sits up and slams the stupid button off causing you to laugh at his impatience. Finally, the light was off.

As he leans back down kissing you, he is mentally tattooing everything about you throughout the night—your lips, your melodic sounds, your breathing, your heartbeat, your gentle and rough touches, your curves— Just everything before it was time.

—

It was late at night as San stood near the bed, watching you sleep. He was dressed in all black, prepared to leave but not before he says goodbye to you. The sheer curtains let the moonlight seep in, casting on your face. The light snores you made were music to his ears. It cause him to gently chuckle bittersweetly as tears blurred his vision.

He remembered all the times you argued with him saying that he was liar, telling him that you don’t snore. It hurt knowing this would be last time hearing them— last time seeing you.

He slowly and gently takes steps to you, leaning down as he removes a few strand of hair from your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers to you, “I have to go.” He kisses your forehead gently, “I love you so, so much.”

He stiffed up a bit when he saw you stirring in your sleep but exhaled in relief when you stopped and went back to your light snores. He glanced at the clock on your night stand and read 3:00AM. It’s about that time. He looks down as he felt his tears coming in, “Please forgive me.” He pleads quietly, sniffing as he looks at you. “I’ll be back.”

One last kiss on the forehead and he slowly gets up and walks to the door. And just like a switch, he walked down the hall, sniffing up those tears as he moved his head side to side, cracking his neck as a more serious, deadly look appeared on his face as he disappeared from the apartment and into the night.

—

Ugh, you really have to change those sheer curtains that blocks absolutely nothing because right now the morning sun was shinning right in your eyes, stirring you awake. You leaned on your back, one arm covering your eyes while the other reached out to touch San but was met with a cold, empty side.

Eyes still covered, you moved your hand around to try and find his body but let’s be real, this was no California King size bed. Either he fell off the bed or simply, he isn’t here. You removed your arm from your eyes and turned to the side and confirmed that he wasn’t there.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly sat up, bringing the blanket to cover your bare chest. “San?” You called out to him. Maybe he’s in the living room. You waited for a response but nothing.

You sighed as you removed the blanket off your body, shivering slightly from cool air as goosebumps formed on your skin. Maybe he didn’t hear me. You grabbed your shirt from off the floor, putting it on as you walked to the living room. “Sannie?” But you were met with an empty living room—an empty apartment.

You removed your tucked hair from your shirt as you pursed your lips, crossing your arms, “This man is going to be the death of me.” You didn’t think much of it—well, kind of— San does this all the time. Whether it was for work or hanging out with friends— whatever it may be, it was normal for him to do. Yes, you have gotten into multiple arguments over it. Yes, he says he will try. But there are times that he forgets to tell you—like today.

You walked back into the room grabbing your phone, unplugging it from the charger as you tapped on the screen but no notifications. “Really?” You sucked the back of your front teeth, feeling annoyed as you shook your head. You unlocked your phone and dialed his number, running a hand through your hair as you hear the dialing tone.

“The number you have dialed-“ you sighed in annoyance as you hung up the call, opening your messages. ‘Thanks for letting me know that you were leaving :)’ and a ‘call me when you can. Love you asshole.” You sent to him, but it came back as message failed. Great, now his phone died.

You threw your phone on bed, “Whatever.” You say as you walked out the room and headed to the bathroom as you started to get ready for the day. Another great thing about San is that he is not the most dependable with his phone. His phone is either dead or lost between the sofa cushions. He truly can’t pick a struggle.

But you know what, at the end of the day you love him and all his aggravating faults, no matter how many times you want to strangle him. That’s your fiancé. Indeed it is. And it has you smiling like an idiot as you brushed your teeth, looking at your reflection. You guess you’ll keep him.

—

As the day went on, it was still radio silent on San’s part. You kept checking, calling, texting but it was to no avail. San may be dumb when it comes to how he handles his phone and where he’s going and whatnot but he never fails to call you and let you know where he’s at or how he’s doing—even if that means calling from a strangers phone. Yes, you were confused that one time a random ass number kept calling you.

You couldn’t help but get this feeling that something is wrong, so here you are pulling up to his job and checking to see if he’s there. You parked and inhaled and exhaled, keeping the nerves at bay as you grabbed your things and headed out of your car.

‘The Tire Shop’ came into view as you made your way to the door. Maybe he’s busy and you’ll forgive him for now and yell at him later. As soon as you opened the door, you winced a bit at the car drill radiating throughout the shop as you looked at the men working on cars.

You watched as a man passed by you, rolling at tire to a car he’s fixing on, having the smell of oil and sweat fill up your nostrils. You gripped your purse strap as you looked around to spot if San was talking with someone or working on a car but nothing.

You were too caught up scanning for San that you didn’t even notice an older gentleman approaching you. “Ma’am?” He calls to your attention as he wipes his hands on a dirty rag, removing excess grease. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, sorry,” you chucked nervously, stepping a bit closer to him. “Yes. I’m looking for someone. Is San working today? Did he come in?” You asked.

He tilted his head to the side, giving you his ear as he gets a bit closer to you as the drill goes off again, “I’m sorry. Who?” He yelled through the sound, eyebrows furrowed.

“San. Choi San.” You repeated a bit louder, leaning in slightly to his ear. “H-Have you seen him?” You stuttered a bit, feeling nervous.

“Choi San?” He repeated with confusion in his tone, tilting his head in confusion. “I’m sorry but nobody of that name works here.” He said shaking his head, tucking in the dirty rang in his back pocket.

You froze, feeling your blood go cold. You let out a nervous laugh, “That’s impossible,” you said reaching into your purse and showing your lock screen. “He’s been working here for five years.” The man squints his eyes, adjusting his poor vision to see the photo of San. “Are you sure?” You asked him in disbelief.

He nods his head. “I’m sure, ma’am.” But seeing the desperation in your face, he sighs turning around to yell out to one of his coworker. The coworker stops and gives him a stank face of what-do-you-want? The man asks him if he’s heard of a Choi San working here but the coworker just shook his head, getting back to work.

“Well, there you have it. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” The gentleman asked you as your heart dropped.

—

You slammed that door open as you rushed out, fumbling with your car keys in hand as you made your way to the car. You slammed your car door shut as you gripped onto the steering wheel, “What the fuck is going on?” You asked yourself, with a shaky breath, hearing a high pitch ringing in your ears.

You looked at your purse that was still clinging onto your arm. You quickly opened it, rummaging through it as you searched for your phone, messing up password multiple times as you rushed to unlock it making you groan in frustration.

“Come on come on.” You whispered to yourself as you dialed his number waiting for him to pick up but it went straight to voicemail. “Fuck!” You screamed out as you threw your phone on the dashboard.

You leaned your face into your hands, feeling anger and confusion swimming in your mind. Are you going insane? What the fuck does this man mean that he’s never heard of a Choi San? You start to get flashbacks of when you dropped him off, him literally coming out of the shop, having lunch with him right outside on the benches— Just what in the fuck is going on?

Fuck this. You backed out and drove to the police station. You knew San like that back of your hand. From small details such as calling or texting, even if he doesn’t do it in the moment, he NEVER forgets. And now you’re being told that he has never worked there? For the past five years? Bullshit. Something bad is happening and you sure as hell aren’t going to waste anymore time.

—

You were spaced out thinking about the whereabouts of San as you sat in-front of a desk, waiting for an officer. You gnawed on your lower lip, bouncing your leg rapidly from the nerves. “Miss Y/N?” Your head snapped to the side to see a female officer approaching you with a comforting smile and water.

You stood up and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Officer Lee.” She gestures to the seat you were in, “Please, sit.” She places the cup in front of you, mumbling a thank you to her as you took a sip of water.

“Thank you so much for meeting with me.” You tell her as you adjust yourself in the seat. “I just didn’t know what else to do and I just- I don’t-“ you felt overwhelmed, losing your words.

She reaches over the table and places a comforting hand on yours. “It’s okay. You did the right thing by coming here.” She smiles once more, removing her hand to grab a pen and opening her notepad. “Why don’t we break down your day today. From when you woke up to now.”

You nodded as you inhaled and exhale. You quickly got to work. You told her how you woke up and he wasn’t home, how he’s basically irresponsible with his phone, how his job all of a sudden tells you that he doesn’t work there. You also mentioned every single detail of San. From his hair to physique, his full name, date of birth, no family, all of his habits, photos of him—you didn’t even forget to mention how just last night he proposed to you.

Throughout this Officer Lee was jotting down everything you told her, asking some questions to expand on certain things. “And that’s everything I know.” You sighed in exhaustion, sniffing as you wiped some tears with tissue paper.

“It was perfect. You gave us all information possible to make this a clear and proper search.” She nodded as you as she closes her notepad and placing her pen down. “I know this is tough for you, but I can assure you that we will do our best to figure out what happened.”

You faced down with your eyes closed. “What if I’m being dramatic? But at the same time what if something happened to him? I just don’t know-“

“Listen to me,” She cuts you off. “You know San better than anyone. If you feel that something is off then something must be off, okay? Plus, one doesn’t suddenly not work at a place he’s been at for five years.” You sniffed and nodded at her.

She stands up, which causes you to also stand up, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. “In the meantime, go home and continue with your regular routine. I know it’s easier said than done, but please try. We will handle the rest and keep you updated.”

You nodded and shook her hand once more. “Thank you so much Officer Lee.” You tell her. “I very much appreciate it.” And with that you made your way out the station, pushing the door as you stepped out into the breezy night. You entered your car and leaned your head back, feeling a sob coming out once more. Where did you go, San?

—

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months since you last saw San. Every single day you call the police to get an update but it was the same fucking vague answers. It’s as if they rehearsed the same lines over and over just for you. You felt as if you were past the point of insanity.

All you just want to know is if San was alive or not. You just want to know if there was a single trace of him anywhere in this damn world— just something. All you just wanted a peace of mind.

Here you go again, on the phone with Officer Lee, who quite literally has the patience of an angel with the way you be calling everyday—some days with more attitude than usual. “Miss Y/N, as I have said before,” she sighed, “I don’t have anything. I will call you when-“

“When you have an update.” You finished the sentence with her. Today, you just so happen to have that attitude. “I know. I just-“ you cut yourself off as you sighed and rubbed your forehead, walking back and forth in your living room.

“I just want to know if you found anything. Even is that anything is so small, I don’t care. Just anything please.” You begged her. “Like why would he lie to me for the past five years about his job? Why would he propose to me and envision this life with me only for him to leave?” You asked her on the verge of tears, exhaling a shaky breath.

These are all the same questions you’ve been asking her for months. You sound like a broken record at this point, but what can you do? You never thought this would happen to you. Deep down you know the only one who can truly answer this was Choi San.

Officer Lee rubs her forehead, staying silent as she listens to you. She too feels heartbroken for you. “I’m sorry.” You whimpered out, sniffing. “I’m just desperate. I feel like I’m going insane. It’s been months and there’s no update. I don’t know what to do with my life anymore.” You vented to her, feeling your heart slowly break apart.

There was a long, long pause on the phone as you cried. Just as soon as you were going to ask if she was still there— she spoke. “Y/N, listen to me and listen closely because this will be the only time I will be mentioning this.” Officer Lee looks at her surroundings and figures there’s too many people so she heads to a vacant stairway.

You froze at her words. Her tone sounded completely different. “I’m not allowed to speak about this, but I can’t keep letting you live like this.” You froze at her words, “There is no record of Choi San.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out feeling completely confused as you shook your head in confusion. “A few months back, I was able to find something on him. Just a small trace of his location. He was seen walking around town, nothing too suspicious. But,” she pauses. You feel your heartbeat in your throat, “the following day when I went to check the video surveillance once more, it was gone. Wiped off. When I went to search him up, it said that there was no record of Choi San.“ She said. “It’s as if he never existed.”

Your heart dropped, you felt the room spinning. “Wh-What?” You managed to let out, “As if he ever existed?” You repeated her words in disbelief. “What? Why would anyone do that? Why would that even happen?”

Officer Lee looks up the stairs to check if anyone was coming and below before leaning her back on the wall. “Can I tell you something?” She whispered into the phone. She can sense the overwhelming feeling of hurt and confusion.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears falling down your face. You bit your lips, nodding even though she couldn’t see you. “Yes?” You answered quietly, feeling your fear taking over.

“As someone who has been working in this industry for a long time, it can only mean one thing,” she says, “this man was involved in something very dangerous.” You felt your knees give up as you held onto the sofa. “Whoever this Choi San is, he disappeared for a reason.”

“Who is he? What has been done?” You asked frantically, feeling the hairs stand behind your neck. Who did I lie in bed with?

She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She sounded defeated. Truthfully, she did not know. She knew that this was not the first time someone has just up and disappeared off the Earth. She knows that there are some evil deals made behind closed doors with the police department.

“Why would he do to me then? What am I supposed to do?” You asked her choking out a sob as you angrily wiped that tears off your face.

“If I were you, I would leave.” She said serious. You were taken aback. “Y/N, you don’t know this man. He is not the man you thought you knew. Trust me. Please. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

You felt numb at this point. What else can come in and ruin your life at this point? “I will call you if I have find something. Until then, please take care of yourself.” And with that you heard the hang up tone, leaving you alone once again.

You stood there in silence, dropping your arm down along with the phone. The sound of the phone hitting the floor rang in your ears. San? Dangerous? No. It can’t be. All of these thoughts rapidly came at you at once, making it seem like a million of voices are in your head.

Soon everything just went blank and something within you snapped. You went to the fireplace and hand swipe everything off the counter, screaming in anger. You cried in misery as you grabbed a picture frame and chucked it to the wall, watching the glass shatter at the impact.

You swiped everything off your dining table, flipping the table in frustration. His absence only worsen the betrayal you felt within your fucking bones. You stood in the middle of the living room starting to laugh. Laughing hysterically as tears dwelled in your eyes.

Everything you knew for the past five years was a lie. A waste of time. Your laughter subsided to agony as you fell to your knees, unable to control this painful heartache. You sobbed uncontrollably as you clutched onto your chest wanting to take this unbearable pain out of your heart.

Fucking San? A dangerous man? The same idiot who was afraid of flipping food over because he was afraid of the hot oil? The same idiot who would drink water from his hands because he was lazy to get a cup? The same idiot who wanted to raise a family with you? No. This can’t be happening.

You leaned forward, placing your hands on the floor as you leaned on them for support as your body shook from your cries. It hits you in that moment if he knew what he was asking when he asked you to runaway. All that you envisioned is gone, just like him.

—

It’s later in the night, and you’re in your kitchen drunkenly stumbling on your tippy toes as you kept your balance to reach into the top cabinet for yet another wine bottle. You finally reached it, popping open the bottle and pouring more in your glass. You take a sip as you close your eyes, feeling this temporary relief soak up in you.

You grabbed the bottle and turned to face the living room, eying the mess you created earlier. You’ll deal with it later, you thought to yourself as you took another sip, walking through the mess as you headed straight to your room.

You sat on your floor staring into the open closet with swollen, bloodshot eyes. You took a sip feeling your eyelids getting heavy from the crying and the alcohol. You placed the cup down, grabbing the bottle and poured some more wine without taking your sight off his side the closet.

Judging from how you heard the cup filling up to the brim, you stopped and placed the bottle down. You sighed as you licked your lips. Well, might as well start moving his shit out. You drunkenly got on your knees and crawled to the closet and sat on your knees.

You reached up and yanked off one of his shirts from the hanger, watch it swing from the harsh pull. You brought the material up to your nose, inhaling it. Though your nose maybe be stuffy from the crying, his scent was so strong. You bring it up to your cheek, wishing it was his touch— his warmth.

You opened your eyes to a blurred vision. No, no tears right now. You turned around and reached to grab your drink and took a few sips before placing it back down. You slowly stood up, feeling the liquor rushing down your legs as it controls your movements. Let’s start with something different.

You reached out to the top of the closet shelve, getting on your tippy toes and grabbed a stack full of boxes and miscellaneous things. But with your wobbly drunken self, and horrible grip, you ended up dropping it on the floor, causing you to yelp out as you moved back.

You opened your eyes and looked down to see that you spilled your drink and broken the glass, “Oh, great.” You pursed your lips, “Glad to see that I’m not the only one broken.” You say, making a half-assed joke. You sighed as you got on your knees and collected some of the big pieces. Thankfully your floor is carpet, all you have to do is wet-vac it.

You started to dry off some of his things but was stopped when you saw a black briefcase with a gold lock embedded on it. “What is this?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you grabbed it and used your hands to take off some of the wine droplets.

You sat comfortable and brought it the case closer for you to examine the lock. It was a four digit code. You grabbed your wine bottle, taking a big swig of it before you went to work on this lock. You bit your lower lip in concentration as you tried multiple combinations.

Shit, you even did the good ole 1, 2, 3, 4. Now listen, in your defense, while on one hand you can kill San, or whoever that man is right now, you always laughed at him for having the most basic password ever—to which he would get offended each time. So you couldn’t help but try it out at least one time.

But, man, you were stumped. Plus it doesn’t help that you were drunk so give yourself some slack. You take a sip and groaned out loud, “What could it even be..” you thought out. You then gasp as you quickly grabbed the case and placed in those four digits. Your birthday. And with that, it clicks open.

You scoffed out a smile, “Really?” Of course he would. “Stop it.” You scolded yourself, shaking your head at yourself. You exhaled, trying to calm the nerves. You slowly opened it, eyes widening at the sight of documents. But these weren’t just regular documents— these were gang afflicted documents.

Your drunken eyes roaming all over, you grabbed the papers out and stacked them, pushing the briefcase to the side. You then start to spread out the documents in front of you, eyes widening as they captured specific words.

You get on your knees as you further spread them out. You then fall back on your knees and parted your mouth in shock at the view in front of you. These documents were filled with gruesome attacks of people, some described chilling events that took place, plans of ambushes, details reports of deaths— you felt sick. What you take notice is that whoever wrote all of this, must’ve been so numb to the brutal killings that were executed.

You then notice a familiar signature at the bottom of the paper. “Oh my god..” you cover your mouth in shock. It was his signature. He did this. You dropped the paper and picked up the previous papers to only confirm what you had in mind. All of them had his signature. He did all of this.

You then turn to the side and saw orange envelope that was filled with what you could imagine more information. You grabbed it and opened it, but dropped it as you turned to the side feeling as if you were going to throw up. You coughed as you felt your throat closing up as you leaned on your hands for support as you hunched over.

“Oh, what the fuck!” You coughed out. Never in your life did you expect to see most nastiest, gruesome photos of bodies. You laid in bed with a freaking monster. You ran a hand through your hair as you looked back the photos you dropped.

You panted heavy as you picked a photo with San standing in the center as men surrounded him all shirtless. You looked closely and saw a snake tattoo that started on their ribs and to their chest. You then had a memory come in when you asked San about his tattoo but he shook his head saying it was nothing, how he thought it was cool when he was younger.

The look casted on San’s face was a rough looking demeanor that contradicts the San you knew—but then again everything did. You dropped your hand with the photograph still in your grasp as you spaced out for a second trying to process everything.

Officer Lee was right. You just didn’t want to believe it. You looked down as took in the gruesome that were spread out. You saw all the violence San created—all the blood, guts, chopped off body parts, one with San smiling over a body. You couldn’t contain it anymore and struggled your way to the bathroom, having the walls be your support as you made it to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.

You can’t believe what your life has become.

—

PRESENT TIME, 5 YEARS LATER

"Alright, my little munchkins," Your voice full of warmness, "It's almost time to go home, let's start cleaning up!" You say to your first grade students as they in unison yelled out "Okay!" You heard the little chairs squeak against the floor as they got up preparing to leave.

They chatted amongst themselves as they worked together. You moved through the room, helping and guiding them when they had questions on where certain things go. As years have passed, you slowly rebuilt your life. You took joy in being a Pre-K teacher. The laughter and smiles from the kids help shed some light in the darkness that was roaming around you.

The kids eagerly grabbed their backpacks and jacket, helping some as you made some jokes with them causing them to giggle. They were filled with excitement knowing it was time to go home as they bounced in a file line by the door. You opened the doors seeing parents waiting outside.

One by one you watched as they left, the crowd of students getting smaller and smaller. You sighed as you closed your classroom door, stretching your neck. You organized the classroom some more, pushing in chairs, sweeping the floor, collecting left over materials and putting them in their respective place.

Finally, time to go home and shower the day off. You grabbed your purse, turned off the light and headed out the room. You lock your class room door and sighed as you take your hair out of the tight ponytail, running a hand through it.

For some reason you felt someone looking at you which made you look across the street to see a man all dressed in black standing still as he looked at you. You slowly subsided your steps, looking at this figure but with the sun and tall silver fence that wrapped around the school, it was hard to adjust on the face.

You watched as they slowly walked away, your gaze never leaving them until they are fully gone from your view. Well, that was fucking weird, you thought to yourself as you picked up the pace to your car, looking behind you every few seconds.

—

For five years you have done all that you could to forget Choi San and started anew. You blocked out everything you two shared. The memories, the empty promises, the relationship you two had—everything. You packed up your shit, got rid of everything that was San’s, and moved states. You changed your number, email, deleted any form of social media and accounts— you name it and it was gone.

To say you weren’t terrified would be a bold ass lie. You were petrified of the things San has done. Most importantly, what he could do to you. You were scared of him finding you. When you feel yourself slipping up, yearning for his love or him, you remind yourself of the deadly things this man did. He has no right to stay in your heart.

But we digressed. You slide the shower curtain open causing the steam to swirl around from your sudden movement. You bring your hair to the side, wringing out the excess water, and then slowly stepped of the tub carefully to not lose your balance. You dragged the towel off the rack and pat your self dry before wrapping it around you.

Tucking the excess at the top to make sure the towel doesn’t fall, you walked to your mirror and hand wiped the fog off. You started off with your nightly routine, wanting to just go to bed from all the exhaustion you had today. But just then as you spat out your toothpaste, you heard a faint creaking of wood in your living room.

You looked at the door and froze, feeling your heart quicken a bit at the sound. Maybe it was the upstairs neighbors. You shook your head as you opened the faucet and wiped the corners of your mouth. Maybe I just made the sound up.

But then the creaking noise comes back. You turned off the faucet, gently placing your ear and hands against the door, waiting for it once more. It’s silent—but you aren’t taking any chances.

You slowly pushed yourself off the door and crouched down to your sink cabinet. You quietly opened it and reached in and grabbed the gun that was attached to the roof of the cabinet. When you moved, you decided to arm yourself as a form of protection.

You stood up and cocked the gun back. Your free hand wrapped around the door knob, inhaling and exhaling before slowly opening it. The creaking of the door opening added to the eeriness of the silence. Goosebumps formed on your skin as a gush of cool air from the hallway hits your skin.

You raised the gun up while your other hand supported it from underneath as you walked down the hall. The mist leaving the bathroom was conforming with the fresh air, disappearing behind you as you made your way down the hallway. Your steps thudded as you got closer, faint sounds of water droplets from your hair coming in contact with the floor.

You quickly turned the corner, scanning the living room as the gun followed your eye movements. Your breathing filled up your ears as your eyes moved quickly to every shadow or movement you suspected was something, which only added to your adrenaline.

Then finally, the creaking noise made your ears twitch and this time it was clear where it was coming from. You pointed the gun to the kitchen, tightening the grip. “Show yourself.” You commanded, voice full of anger.

Soon a man slowly emerges from the dark shadows with his hands up. Your eyes widened for a second but you kept your composure, “Who are you?” A slight shaky tone gave away the fear coursing in your body. All you saw was his body as the darkness covered his face.

Slowly he dropped his hands, standing still. “Answer me.” You demanded, heart beating up to your ears.

And with that he takes a step forward and with one look at the face, everything comes crumbling down. “S-San?” You gasped in disbelief, eyes widening at the sight of him, mouth parting.

“Y/N,” he said in a low voice. Oh my god. “It’s me.” It’s really him. The voice you longed to hear after five years. The person you missed desperately. The person who was your forever. He held his gaze with yours as he walked to you.

You felt your arms slowly dropping as you stood in shock. You couldn’t believe he’s here face to face. You want to hold him—wait— “Don’t fucking move.” You tell him as you quickly regained your composure. He freezes at your words. He is not the person you thought you knew.

“Y/N,” his voice broke, eyes full of sorrow. “Please. I know I fucked up.” He tries taking a step forward. Fucked up is an understatement.

“Don’t fucking move!” You yell at him, taking a step forward, gun pointed at him causing him to take a step back. “I’ll shoot you.” You tell him.

His eyes widen at your words. “Y/N,” he whispers as tears start dwelling in his eyes. “I know you’re upset, but please let me explain-“

“Upset?” You cut him off with a humorless laugh. “You fucking asshole. You ruined me! You hurt me in ways I didn’t even know was possible.” You spat at him. “You left me. No— You disappeared. Come to find out you’re nothing but a sick piece of inhumane shit murderer.”

“Let me explain, Y/N. It’s not what you think.” He tells you as he takes a step forward to you. His heart drops at the way you look at him. He knows the damage he has done. He knows that it might be late to salvage whatever is left but he would be damn if he gives up to easily.

The two of you moved around in circles in your living room. Him wanting to hold you, to feel your warmth and to explain everything but you wanting nothing to do with him as you moved away from him. His voice broke as he spoke, “Baby, please-“

“Don’t!” You cut him off, feeling the hot tears falling down your cheeks. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to show up five years later and try to make up for all the bullshit you put me through.” You tell him as you two finally stopped moving.

You watched as he cried, looking in pain. “Leave. Never come back. You’re five years too late, asshole. I want nothing from you.” You tell him angrily. There was a pause of works between you two, all you could hear was the cries. Your vision blurred by your tears as you stared into his regretful eyes.

San couldn’t contain it anymore. He walks up to you, making you gasp in shock as you walked backwards, bumping into the wall arms still extended out. You felt a slight push from the gun when its cold metal was pressed on his chest. “I have killed men.” He starts to explain what you saw in the photos. “Those men you saw in the photos have done most vile, disgusting things to people. Things that would keep you up at night.” He whispers at the end.

He clears his throat, “Let me explain,” he pleads. “Let me explain and then I’ll leave. I’ll do whatever you ask of me but please, Y/N…”

You fucking trembled as you let out a sob. He sighs in relief as he raised his hands, enclosing them on yours as he gently removed the gun from your hands. You don’t even fight it, you just hug yourself. He removes the ammo and cocks back the gun watching the bullet jump out, dropping the gun to the floor.

The thud made you jump back, wishing the wall would engulf you and would disappear. Slowly he raised his hands to your shoulders, causing you to look away in fright. You swallowed your nerves as you stiffened a bit, feeling his hands rising up to cup your face, making you turn to face him.

He leans his forehead on yours, sliding his hands from your face down your arms, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses on your knuckles. He places your hands on his cheeks and leans into your touch, let out a shaky sigh of relief. Enjoying your warmth, missing your touch.

You stood there as you took in his gentle gestures. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you fucking missed him. You missed everything so much, but can’t fall for this. You removed your hands from his touch and looked at him in anger. He fucking left you.

You shoved his chest with all your force, watching him stumble backwards. He looked at you in shock. There was a moment of silence before you walked up to him and started pounding him on his chest, hitting him as you released everything you’ve been suppressing for the past five years.

“How could you do this to me?!” You screamed at him. “Who the fuck are you? Why would you come into my life if you were just going to disappear?” He stood there, taking it from you knowing that he deserves this and more.

You slapped him so hard across the face, making him almost lose his balance. “Okay,” he said groaning out in pain as he adjusted his jaw, feeling that burning sensation. “I deserved that.”

You shoved him once more. “I gave you everything.” You told him, panting heavily. “I fucking loved you. You were my everything. We were going to get married and have this life together.” You cried to him. You placed your hands on your head, feeling as if you were going crazy, “I just want to know why.” You shook your head, “Why, San?”

“Baby,” he tells you and you just close your eyes not wanting to hear the pet name he had for you. “I-“ he tried finding the words. “I was involved in something that I never, ever wanted you to find out. I know, sounds hypocritical considering you found the documents and pictures and for that I’m sorry. I genuinely forgot to take the case because- because-“ he sighs as he shakes his head, cutting himself off to change the topic.

You stayed quiet as you looked at him. He sniffed, “I have done terrible, terrible things.” You watched as he looks down and then back up to you, “But I had no choice.” He tells you as he got closer to you, grabbing your hands as he brings them to his lips once more “Part of what I did was something I needed to do in order to get out.” He places a kiss on your hands, looking at you. “In order to be with you.”

You wanted to stay silent. You didn’t want to know but your curiosity betrayed you, “What-“ you let out a shaky breath, “What did you have to do?” You said quietly.

He leans his forehead on your hands, not being able to look at you when he confesses. “In order to get out—to show my loyalty to them and to prove I was done with that life— I had to kill very important people.”

You took your hands from his grasp and looked to the side as you covered your mouth, not being able to look at him. “Oh my god.” You whimpered out.

“Baby, please, it was the only way for me to get out of this life that I didn’t even want to be to begin with.” He says, searching for your eyes. “But that was the only way for me to survive. Once I was in, there was no easy way out.”

He cups your face and wipes your tears, “But when I saw you,” he lets out chuckle with tears streaming down, “I’ll never forget when I first laid my eyes on you. I knew from the bottom of my heart I wanted to be with you,” he looked into your eyes, “I did what I did to be with you. I would do it a thousand times over for you. Because I love you.”

You closed your eyes, whimpering as he kept going on. “I left because I wanted to live a free life from all that shit. I left because I wanted to live in peace with you. Listen,” he cups your face, making you look directly at him, “the men I killed deserved all I did. They have hurt innocent people. Woman, children, Y/N, they don’t care who it was. Scumbags like that deserved to be punished.”

He fell to knees, placing gentle tender kisses on your thighs. “I was so, so afraid of losing you that I hid everything from you. I fucked up for not telling you but I was just trying to protect you.” He cries out as he leans his forehead on your thighs.

He wraps his arms around your legs, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry for leaving you. I’m so sorry for all the misery I have caused you. I promise you, I was done. But-” he fumbled with his words, “But someone informed me that they were looking for me to get revenge. To get back at me for all I did to those people.”

He looks up at you, “And I just—… I could never live with myself if they killed you.So I decided to just leave and disappear before they found you with me.” He caresses the back of your thighs as he leaned his forehead once more on your thighs. “I thought it would be better this way. I paid off the men at my job to lie to you if you showed up. I threw my phone away. I had all of my records cleared off the database. I just couldn’t risk anyone having single link of you from me. ”

Your sobs filled the room as you take in all his words. This man who went from your lover to a stranger to now you being conflicted. You watched as he stood up, cupping your face once more. “For the past five years, I never once let you out my sight.” He confesses.

It then hits you. “Was that you today?” You asked him and he nodded.

“It fucking broke me watching you from the distance but please, Y/N, understand it was for your protection.” He tells you.

You held onto his wrists, “San,” you licked your lips as you closed your eyes. “I just- I don’t know what to think or what to do.” You sniffed as you opened your eyes and looked at him. “Why now? Why now after all these years did you decide to come back?“

“I’m free,” he whispered to you, “I took care of everything.” He tells you and you felt a shiver go down your spine as you gulped. “Listen to me, they deserved it.” You remove his hands, feeling sick as you remembered the photos and documents.

He sighs in defeat. “Y/N, the things they have done to others,” he shakes his head, “it’s indescribable. What I did to them isn’t even half of what they have done.” That makes you feel even more in shock. Those photos and detailing was already horrible enough, you can’t imagine what they did to others.

You looked at the floor thinking. Does it kind of make you feel better that San basically did justice in killing bad guys? You don’t know. Are you trying to make an excuse? You don’t know. But one thing is certain, you were afraid. You looked at him as you let out a shaky breath, “Would you ever… hurt me?” You hesitantly asked him.

You saw as his face broke at your question. His heart dropped at your words. “What?” He whispered out. “I would never, ever do such a thing to you. You’re the love of my life. The reason I woke up and did what I did for the past five years just so I can be with you again. Y/N you changed me for the better.” He grabs your hand and placed it on his chest. “This is for you.” He says as you feel his heart beat, insinuating that it beats for you and only you.

“The man you saw in the photos and read in the documents that’s not me anymore. I gave up that life for you. I wanted to change for you. I love you, Y/N, believe that.” He pulls you to him as he cups your face once more.

You planned to never see San ever again in your life. As a matter of fact you wanted to kill him if he ever came across your way. But now listening to him and him explaining, granted he needs more explains to do, you can’t help but fucking want him again in your life. You fucking missed him.

You let out a whimper. “San,” you say, “I hate you so much. I hate that I missed you. I hate that I still love you.” You squeezed his wrists. San lets out a sad chuckle at your word, “I hate myself too. I hate for leaving you and for hurting you.”

You softly hit his chest once as you cried, not having any strength left in your body. You looked up at him, “Are you going to leave me again?” You asked him with tears in your eyes, in a broken voice that was full of pain.

He leans his forehead on yours, “Never. I will never leave you again.” You felt his rough hands roaming up and down your arms, giving you goosebumps. You bit your lower lip—fuck. It’s as if nothing has changed for the past five years. You just give into him so easily.

You looked into his eyes, love and lust swirling around. “Please,” he said lowly, as he wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Let me take care of you tonight.” He places a kiss below your ear, “Let me show you how sorry I am.” He trails kisses down your neck, “How much I’ve missed you.” He hovers his lips over yours.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction from his touches. You slightly nodded as you looked into his eyes. He leans in and captures your lips, you melted into his touch. He wasted no time in picking you up causing you to wrap your legs around him.

You gently tugged his hair as the kiss started to heat up. He glided a hand up your back, tugging your head back by your hair as he trails kisses down your neck to your collarbone. You let out a moan when he starts sucking on that sweet spot. You look back down to him and kissed him again.

“Mmm, where is the room?” He broke the kiss, panting slightly as he catches his breath. “Down the hall.” You whispered, panting as well.

—

He burst into the bedroom, both of you still in the heated kiss, closing the door with his leg as he walked and threw you on the bed. “San!” You yelped out in shock. You sat up as you clutched the towel that still covered your body, giving him an angry look as he hovers over you, “Don’t do that shi-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, “I’m sorry, baby.” He whispers to you, gently pushing you to lay back down on the bed, “I’ll be careful, okay?” He whispers in your ear, kissing below it. Bullshit but okay. Nice to know that something’s don’t change.

He sat up as he takes off his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him as he leans back down to kiss you. You unconsciously roam your hands all over his muscular arms, squeezing them as he grinds his clothes hard member against your bare throbbing, achy pussy.

His lips slowly moves down and stops at the top of your towel. He takes his forefinger and slowly drags it from your lips down to neck and between your breast. He never once took his eyes off you as he slowly unravels your towel. He looked at you as if you were a meal—starving and craving you for the past five years.

He leans down and latches onto your nipple while massaging the other one causing you to arch your back as you clench you pussy onto nothing. He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose as his tongue flicks your harden nipple. He switches from one breast to the other.

He trails the kisses down your stomach making you inhale and exhale at his trailing wet kisses, making you excited for what’s to come. He gets off the bed, kneeling on the floor between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your legs as he drags you closer to him.

He places your thighs on his shoulders, kissing your inner thighs as he eyes your glistening pussy. His hands caress your thighs up and down. “San, please.” You begged to him, turning your head to the side in desperation as your chest heaves at his actions.

“Shh, baby, just relax.” His hot breath hovers over your throbbing area, making you clench once more. “Let me handle it, okay?” He asks you and watched as you nodded frantically causing him to smirk.

He then sucks on your clit, slightly hollowing his cheeks from the suction as he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud. You let out a moan as he lays his tongue flat, moving his head up and down. You gripped on his head, using your free one to grip the sheets. The sounds of suction adds to your pleasure.

He reaches over your thighs, spreading your folds wasting no time to fuck you with his tongue. San swears this is the most beautiful state he has seen you in. Screaming as you arch your back, unable to deal with the pleasure as it takes over you.

He moves his tongue in and out your hole, feeling you clench around him. He moves his tongue all around your folds before going back in. He then freed one hand and uses his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. “Shit.” You breathed out turning your head side to side, gasping.

He freed his other hand and sticks in two fingers, curved upward, moving at a medium pace. “O-Oh!” You moaned out, throwing your head back as your mouth parts in delight, “Ri-Right there!” You gripped the pillow on either side of your head.

He continues the rubbing and fingering as he looks at you. His cheeks hurt but he doesn’t fucking care. “I missed you so much baby.” He said in a deep voice, “I’ve dreamt of this everyday for the past five years.”

He places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Can you cum for me?” He asked you before getting back down. He quickens the pace, sucking the lower half of your clit as he uses his thumb to rub the top part rapidly, adding pressure to it.

You screamed out his name as a mantra. “San! San, I’m going to cum!” You said as you looked down at him before throwing your head back. You clamped his head trapped between your thighs, feeling your orgasm building up. You fisted his hair as you breathed heavy.

“Shit! Shit!” You say as you screamed out as you reached your orgasm. All the built up emotions just released in that moment as you felt like you saw stars. You breathed out uncontrollably as he help you ride out your high with his fingers and mouth. Your shaky legs let go of the grip it had on his head as you tried collecting yourself.

He stands up and removes his pants and boxers in one go, watching you all fucked out on the bed. His member was leaking with precum, eager to feel you and to fill you up all deliciously. He hovers of you, getting between your legs, “You okay, baby?” He asks you.

“Yeah,” You breathed out as you lazily wrapped your arms over his neck, “That was amazing.” You lazily smile which caused him chuckle. You pull him to you, kissing him as you tasted yourself on his lips.

He pulls back, “Are you ready?” He asked you. You nodded at him, “Yes.” You whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves to his hand to align himself, both of you remaining eye contact. You closed your eyes as you feel his tip going in and then him full stretching you out. He drops his head down, feeling the tightness engulf him.

He takes a moment for you both, taking in the sensation. You can’t help but to clench down at him, enjoying this longed for feeling. He slowly starts to thrust back and forth, biting his lower lip. “Oh.” You moaned out in pleasure and a slight stinging pain from the stretching.

He kisses your lips. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.” He comforts you through the slight pain. “Are you gonna take what I give you?” He asked causing you to flutter your eyes open at him.

“Anything you give me, I’ll take it.” You nodded at him. As soon as you gave him the permission, he puts his hands behind your knees, moving them up to the sides of your head. He starts pounding in you causing him to groan out in delight as he closes his eyes, throwing his head back.

The position made you feel his rough thrusts deeper causing you to scream. The bed frame started hitting again the wall from how hard he was going. “You like that baby?” He asked you looking back down at you.

“Ye-Yes-s!” You managed to choke out. Your tits bounced from his actions as you tried finding something to grip onto, feeling overwhelmed. You then let out a gasp when you felt him dropping your legs, turning you to lay on your stomach.

He drags your hips up, quickly inserting himself back in as his hand forces to arch your back. He smacks your ass which makes you moan out, loving the stinging. “Touch yourself for me, baby.” He says. You adjusted yourself on your arm as you reached out and rubbed circles on your clit. The rubbing makes you clench on him, “Fuck,” he moans out, bed creaking underneath you both. “Fucking love when you do that.”

He then grabs a fist of your hair, pulling your head back. You whimpered at the pulling as he smacks your ass again. You whined as you bit your lower lip, loving how his balls smack against your clit. “You’re mine.” He leans down and whispers in your ear, hand sliding to your neck, squeezing it. “All mine.”

“All yours, San.” You say with the little air you have in your body. You then leaned forward when he lets go of you, gasping for air. But you have no time to compose yourself as he turns you around one last time, laying you on your back.

“Cum with me.” He tells you, rapidly thrusting into you. Your hands reached to his back, scratching it deeply as he rubs your clit. His balls hitting your ass as he tries chasing his high, letting out a low groan.

All the sounds from skin slapping to the bed frame legit about to break added to the electrifying atmosphere. He reaches up and holds your jaw in place, “I'm gonna cum.” You tell him. “Me too, baby. Cum with me.” He tells you as he leans down and kisses you.

A few more strokes and you both are moaning into each other’s mouths as you both came at the same time. He paints your walls white as his hips movements slowly starts to subside, riding out both of your highs. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavy. Hot, sweaty sticky bodies in each other’s embrace. Your hand reaches up and caresses his sweaty hair. “I love you.” He tells you as you feel the vibration in the crook of your neck.

“I love you too.” You tell him as you stare off to the ceiling, slowly closing your eyes as you felt the exhaustion take over, caressing movements subsiding in his hair.

—

You wake up with the sun shining in your eyes. You scrunched up your face as you turned away from the light, reaching out to feel San. You shot your eyes open when you didn’t feel him there. No, not again. You sit up straight, looking at the empty spot. “San?” You called out, looking out the door way— nothing answers you back.

You remove the covers off you hastily, ignoring the overall soreness in your body as you walked to your drawer grabbing underwear and oversize shirt. You quickly put them on as you walked out the room, “San- Oh.” You called out once more as you walked down the hallway but stopped abruptly in your steps.

All your overwhelming emotions flushed away when you saw San cooking in the kitchen. “Ah!” He screamed out in pain when a small drop of oil jumped onto his skin. You covered your mouth when you saw how he was standing— body arm length away, hips pushed out, completely away from the pan as his arms are extended out. One hand holds a fork and the other holding the handle of the pot.

Through the sizzling, San heard your chuckle, causing him to snap his head towards you. “The stupid oil burned me again!” He said with a pout.

You sighed out a chuckle as you shook your head. “Let me do it, you big baby.” You said smiling as you walked to him. You take the fork from his hand and flipped some bacon pieces. He crossed his arms, “I’m not a big baby.” He said in a whining tone.

You snorted. “Sure.” You say, eyeing the bacon as you smiled. “You have the temperature too hig-“ You froze in your words when you saw a ring on your ringer finger with a huge diamond on it. How did you miss this big ass rock?

You then felt arms wrap around your waist from behind, lips kissing on your neck. You let out a shocked scoff as you felt tears dwelling in. “I told you I was going to get you a ring with a big gem on it.” He smiles into the kisses on your neck.

You turned to him with tears falling down your cheeks. He smiles at your reaction, cupping your face as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears. “I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you so much more.” He tells you. “I promise I will make up for all my mistakes. You’re my life, Y/N. I will prove it to you.” He knows it’s going to take a long time before you fully trust him again, but this a first step for that.

After a moment of silence he grab your chin and places a few more kisses on your lips. “So,” he whispers which you hummed in response, “why don’t we start on those six kids, mm?”

You rolled your eyes, swiping his hand off your chin turning to focus on the bacon. “We are not having six kids, San!” You tell him, giving him a glare over your shoulder. You looked at the bacon and smirked, “Maybe we will have them when you stop being scared over cooking oil.” You teased him.

He let out an offended gasp. “Excuse me?!” He put a hand over his chest. He pursed his lips as he hip bumps you out the way and sassily takes the fork out of your hand. “Watch. I’m not scared of some stupid oil.” His voice trembling through the fake confidence.

He flinched slightly when he sees the oiling jumping all over the place causing you to burst out in laughter. You placed a kiss on his cheek, patting his back. “Sure baby.” You say crossing your arms as you leaned back on the counter.

He then shouts once more , dropping the fork on the counter when the oil jumped on his skin. “Forget it!” He said walking away with attitude which made you stifle a laugh.

He stops in his steps and turns around, a smirk growing on his face. He walks to you, “What are you doing?” You asked him as you stood up, standing with your guard up. He bends down and throws you over his shoulder as he heads to the bedroom. “We can start with one.” He said as you yelled at him to put you down as he smacked your ass. You don’t see it but you two are smiling at each other’s actions.

THE END

[hellothereobiwankenobi]

yellow ribbon on the door | chapter one

⟢ summary: Tommy invites the widowed wife of his old Army sergeant to Sarah’s 14th birthday party. Over the past few months, she has slowly become a regular fixture in the lives of the Miller family. And Joel hates it.

⟢ pairing: joel miller x afab!reader (femme but not descriptive as to actual features)

⟢ wc: 1.8k

⟢ warnings: no outbreak au, flower shop au, idiots in love, small age gap, joel is 35 and reader is 29 about to be 30, war widow, operation desert storm mentioned, reader is a single mother to ellie, joel is in love with the reader but because he’s such a dumb fuck when it comes to love he thinks the feelings he has for her must be hate, eventual smut, no beta reader we die like men

⟢ authors notes: this story is inspired by “sunlight & sawdust” by @pandapetals. i started reading the first chapter of their work and it planted a seed (no pun intended) for my own story. so, hope that’s cool.

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Joel pulls a glass beer bottle from the ice-filled cooler. He pops the bottle cap off and takes a long swig. Sarah’s fourteenth birthday party was underway, and his home and backyard were filled to the brim with family, friends, and neighbors. Joel adored his daughter, but standing in front of a hot grill in late July was hardly his idea of a good time.

The heat was starting to get to him. Standing in front of the grill under the blazing Texas sun was already enough, but the way his pulse increased every time he heard your voice. That was making this summer day unbearable.

Your laugh carries across the backyard and directly to Joel’s ears. He watched you sitting perched on the arm of the grey Adirondack chair Tommy was currently occupying. Your head thrown back, eyes closed, a toothy smile plastered on your face. Tommy was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, as he recounted a story about his time in the army. Probably the one where he gets up in the middle of the night to take a leak only to find a spider the size of a dinner plate leaping out of the latrine. Always a crowd pleaser. A small group had joined the two of you on the deck, standing in a semicircle, captivated by Tommy’s words. He always had that ability. A magnetic way of speech that could keep a room full of people wrapped around his little finger.

Tommy leans back into the chair and goes for another sip of his beer only to realize it was empty when two small drops touched his lips. “Guess this one's done for,” he chuckles to himself. He moves to stand up from his sitting position, but you're on your feet in a second “Let me get it for you.”

The corners of Tommy’s mouth curl into an easy smile “Always so good to me, Sugar.” You roll your eyes, but let out a soft giggle. Joel had only met you twice before this, but both times he noticed you were always doting on Tommy. Refilling his drinks, laughing at his jokes, giving him unprompted compliments. Big doe eyes filled with stars as you hung on every word he spoke.

Could you be any more fucking obvious Joel thought to himself. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but seeing you treat his brother like the only man on earth drove him crazy.

You make your way across the yard toward the row of beverage coolers. He feels his body temperature rising again. He decides to do the mature thing and act like he didn’t see you coming.

You stop in front of him before looking up, trying to meet his eyes “Umm, mind if I-” you nod down toward the cooler sitting behind him.

Joel awkwardly shuffles over, giving you more than enough space to complete your task. You bend at the waist, a white and yellow floral sundress riding up and exposing the back of your thighs. He stays facing forward, but he can’t help himself when his eyes travel down the soft curve of your body. Moving discreetly from your round ass, along your legs, all the way down to your exposed manicured toes peeking out from tan, strappy sandals. He’s convinced you know exactly what you're doing positioned like that.

Again, fucking obvious.

You grab the cooler’s lid with one hand, and search for Tommy’s drink of choice with the other. You pluck the red and silver beer can from the ice before closing the lid and returning to a standing position. Joel swiftly adverts his gaze back to the group surrounding his brother.

“Thanks for the invite by the way” You turn to look up at Joel, trying to offer a show of peace. It had been made very clear that he did not like you.

Over the past several months, Tommy has brought you to one family dinner and the Annual Miller Brothers Super Bowl Party. Both times Joel had been frigid toward you, like being in the same room as you was some sort of inconvenience.

When Tommy told you he had a brother, you expected a mirror image of him. Just a slightly older version. Someone who shared his charm, who was quick with a joke, and always craving to be the center of attention. During your first interactions with Joel, you realized the only thing they had in common was a family likeness. Joel shared Tommy’s brown eyes, naturally tanned skin, soft curls, but lacked the same magnetic personality. For you, speaking with Joel was like speaking to a brick wall. A brick wall that hated you for some unknown reason.

Joel doesn’t bother looking in your direction to speak. With an uncaring tone, he reminds you “Tommy invited ya”

“Right,” you let out a sigh, defeated. You couldn’t figure out what you did to make Joel dislike you so much. When Tommy would bring you around, you learned to steer clear of the elder Miller brother.

From the corner of your eye, you catch a bright flash of yellow and orange coming from the barbeque. “Umm, Joel.” you point in the direction of the grill. Joel’s eyes finally move from their fixed position and look in the direction you're pointing.

“Shit-” is all he says before running to the grill, flames rising from the coals.

· · · ──────── ⋆˚ ✿ ❀ ✿ ˚⋆ ─────── · · ·

Joel pulls the glass sliding door connecting the backyard to the house open with one hand. The other balances a tray of the last darkened hamburgers and hotdogs from the grill into the kitchen. You were standing at the kitchen counter, preparing two meals on paper plates. One with a hamburger stacked with lettuce, onion, and pickles. The second plate holds a single hot dog, a small pile of potato chips, and a few blackberries from the fruit tray you brought for the party. He places the tray on the counter beside you before grabbing a plate for himself. Joel comes to stand at the counter, keeping a sizable gap between the two of you. He grabs some chips and store-bought potato salad and places them on his plate.

“That for Tommy?” Joel asks without thinking, gesturing to one of the two plates in front of you.

You glance up at Joel and flash him a small grin “Tommy is a big boy. If he wants something to eat, he knows where to find it.”

Joel felt a new type of heat creeping up the back of his neck. You let the silence hang in the air for just a moment, allowing yourself to enjoy the flustered look on his face. “It’s for Ellie.”

Of course, Ellie. Your daughter. He had seen her earlier running in the backyard with the other younger children. Sarah was spending her birthday party keeping them occupied by blowing bubbles and letting the kids chase them down. That didn’t surprise Joel though. Sarah could always be found keeping the kids busy during family functions. Joel was more than content with the situation of just him and Sarah, but a part of him always wanted to give her a younger sibling or two. Tommy was a pain in the ass even on the best of days, but he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without him.

Joel finally snaps out of his thoughts and finishes fixing his plate. He exits the kitchen and sees you struggling to open the sliding door with your elbow. Your hands are full with a plate in each one, forcing you to get creative with the door.

Joel stands behind you, reaching around your body to pull the door open with his free hand. You look over your shoulder to see him standing close behind you. Closer than he’s ever been before.

Before you can put too much thought into it, you step out onto the deck and move to find your daughter.

· · · ──────── ⋆˚ ✿ ❀ ✿ ˚⋆ ─────── · · ·

The afternoon sun had finally started to shift behind Joel’s two-story home, flooding the back deck in shade. Joel sits with Tommy in the Adirondack chairs, eating in comfortable silence. He watches as you sit in the grass with Ellie. Joel can’t help but notice the way the sun caresses your exposed shoulders and chest. Its golden rays making your skin glow.

You try to scold her for eating too fast but it’s clear it has no effect on her. Her hot dog is gone in three bites, followed by a whole handful of the blackberries, and then three chips at a time. She asks you a question Joel can’t hear from this distance and shows you her empty plate. You let out a defeated sigh and nod your head. You take the paper plate from Ellie, and she bolts across the grassy yard to rejoin the other children.

“Must be hard,” Tommy finally breaks the silence. Joel looks at his brother, eyebrows pinched together.

“Doin’ it alone,” Tommy continues, “figured you’d understand. Thought y’all could bond over that.”

Joel remembered Tommy mentioning you were a single mom but he always tried to tune out most of the other information Tommy offers about you.

“Good thing she has you around.” Joel remarks plainly. Trying his best push down the bitter feelings he has associated with their relationship.

You stand up, flattening out your skirt and brushing away any loose pieces of grass. You throw away the paper plates and make your way to the two brothers. After climbing the steps to the deck, you return to your spot on the arm of Tommy’s chair.

“Still havin’ a good time?” Tommy asks you, “Despite Joel’s embarrassin’ barbeque skills.”

Joel rolls his eyes with a grunt, wishing Tommy would just let it go. Next time he could stand in front of the hot grill in one-hundred-degree weather.

You let out a soft giggle “I don’t mind my meat a little well-done.”

“Well-done is generous” Tommy laughs, giving his brother’s arm a shove. “Think Joel forgot you’re supposed to cook with the coals. Not feed ‘em to your guests.”

You want to laugh, but the look on Joel’s face cautions that thought away. You decide to change the subject “Tommy, I actually wanted to ask you for a favor.”

Tommy looks up at you with a soft smile, “Anythin’, Sugar.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes “I was hoping you could come by the shop sometime this week. The A/C unit in the walk-in cooler is still leaking. I called the repair guy, but it’s going to be at least two hundred dollars for him to just come and take a look at it. And then who knows how much for him to fix it.”

“Course I can.” Tommy leans back leisurely, “I got a couple jobs scheduled, but I’m sure I can squeeze my favorite girl in somewhere.”

With that, Joel makes his leave. He had enough of the two of you and your little flirtatious games.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

⟢ more authors notes: so i have not written fanfic in maybe a decade. ive only recently rediscovered my love for it. posting this makes me nervous but i just really loved this idea and had to run with it.

as of right now, the rating is teen. explicit will eventually happen, but not for a few chapters. but miss girl, once we get to the smut… it’s gonna be nasty and i honestly can’t wait.

also, i will say this now. ive only watched the tv show, never played the game. so idk if tommy calling reader “sugar” is based on canon. i just read it in a fic once and i thought it was so freaking adorable and really tracks with pre-outbreak tommy.

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 29

Word Count- 8.3k

Warnings- swearing, death, and canon violence

PSA- THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF RACISM, HOMOPHOBIA, DEATH, AND ABUSE OF GAY POC. 

“You’re a bitch.”

“Good to see you too, My Love.”

I let out an almost animalistic growl as I turned over to Alastair, who was sitting beside me in the driver’s seat of his new Porsche. When I saw him after all this time, standing in the Mikaelsons’ foyer, I was surprised and slightly happy to see him, now that I remember everything he had done in the past few months, all I am is pissed. It doesn’t help that he gave me puppy eyes and pretty much begged me to let him drive me home since I didn’t have any way to get home, and oddly enough, Elijah was off doing whatever Elijah does in the shadows, and Klaus was plotting…again. I had told Alastair I’d rather walk, and then he said if I tried that he’d just follow me to make sure I got home safe, and he knows I hate walking. 

I’ve really got to stop giving my secrets away to strangers who end up being vampires.

“So you’re going to talk to me?”

I don’t turn away from the window, “Nope.”

“You technically just did.” I’m going to pull out my gun.

The ride continues in silence until we reach the gravel driveway of my house, which seems so much tinier after spending so long in the Mikaelson mansion. Mom’s car is in the driveway, parked along mine. 

Without another word, I hop out of the car as soon as Alastair puts it into park. 

“Y/n! Please just give me a second to explain myself, alright!”

“Nope.”

I hop up the stairs as I hear the vampire trail me. 

“You don’t understand why I had to do what I did,” The yearning was clear in his voice. 

I whip around and glare at him, “Then explain to me why?! Explain to me why you pretended to be my friend all this time, just for Klaus! Why are you so loyal to him!?”

Alastair rubs a hand over his face and then gestures with the same hand towards the staircase of the porch. With a dramatic huff I place my ass on the top step and Alastair sits on the one right below it. 

“I’m gay.”

“No surprise there.”

Alastair sends me a dirty look, and I respond with a raised brow. Obviously, I knew he was gay. He’d told me plenty of times when we would hang out together, especially when we talked about Supernatural and how he’d like to do certain things to Dean Winchester. 

“What I meant was… I’ve been gay for a long time. Like 200 years long. And being gay in this century is hard enough, can you imagine how hard it was for someone like me 300 years ago? I’m literally a gay black man, Y/n, times were and are hard for me.”

A wave of sadness washes over me at his words, and I nod for him to continue. 

“Even though I had to hide who I was… that didn’t stop me from falling in love,” A soft, sorrowful smile comes across his face, “August. His name was August and he was the most beautiful man I had ever laid my eyes on. And not to brag, but he thought the same of me. We kept our relationship a secret, hidden in the shadows. Meeting behind alleys, or whatever dark corner we could find, even if it was only for a single moment. Any moment with him was enough.”

He’s quiet now, as if he’s reliving the memories.

“We met up on a Friday night. He was in my embrace when the first hit came. The next thing I knew, a group of white men were kicking us. It went on for so long that I didn’t even know at what moment August had taken his last breath. One of the men had his boot on my throat, and I waited with bated breath for my final moments, but the next thing I heard was screaming. At first I thought it was my August, but when the man had moved his foot off my throat and I was able to turn over,” Alastair stops and I know what he must have seen, “Anyways, my eyes were practicality swollen shut from all the hits I had taken but I still made out the man ripping the others apart. I was about to lose consciousness when I felt something warm spill down my throat. A few hours later, I awoke and saw the same man sitting before me. He told me that August was dead and so weren’t the men that killed him, except one, who had run away during the bloodshed. He had told me that he could make all the memories go away and I’d forget this ever happened…Or I could become something no one could ever lay a hand on again.”

Alastair’s solemn face morphs into one of anger, “I chose the latter. Not being able to see the Sun was kind of a bummer then, but it didn’t stop me from finding the last man who took my August from me,” Alastair turns to look at me, “I ripped him apart. Tore him piece by piece. And it felt good…until it didn’t. Until I realized no matter how many people I killed, it still wouldn’t bring back the love of my life. That’s when Klaus found me again and took me under his wing, showed me control, and got me a daylight ring. As years went on, we kept in touch; he’d ask for a favor here and there, and I’d do it. Not because he made me, but because I wanted to. He had saved my life that day and then given me a new one. So when I got the call from him that only he trusted me to watch over his soulmate…I knew I had too. I know what it was like to lose the love of your life. I didn’t want that for my friend either. I had expected to be watching over some hot-headed nuisance like Klaus since y'all are bound, but… I didn’t expect to meet you. I remember the first time I saw you,” He laughs to himself, and I find myself smiling, “You were with Elena, and you guys were outside the Grill drinking Shirley Temples and then you proposed to see who could down theirs first,” He raises an eyebrow at me and I nod.

“And I won…”

“And then you threw it up in the bush,” Alastair's laugh is melodic, “And I remember watching you with…honestly disgust, but then you did something that made me pause. You laughed. You laughed so hard you fucking threw up again, and then Elena started laughing and you both were on the ground looking bat shit crazy next to a pile of vomit while passerbys gave you dirty looks. And at that moment, I knew you weren’t like him, like Klaus. You weren’t some copy…you were you. A girl thrown into a world that she wasn’t ready for, and I knew that I needed to make sure that world didn’t ruin that laugh of yours. And then a few weeks went by and I compelled myself a job as a bartender, and before I knew it, you weren’t just important to Klaus…you became important to me, too. You and you’re dumbass,” He points to me sarcastically, “moodswings.”

“So why did you leave?”

Alastair rolls his eyes, “Your boytoy got jealous. It must’ve been the night when you were on the verge of a panic attack, and all my immortal life I’ve always stood by Klaus’ side, but in that moment when he told me to leave you…I couldn’t. It was the first time in over 100 years I had chosen someone over him. And it didn’t help the way you clung to me, even when you were supposed to be mad at me. So he shipped me off to Denver to watch over your brother’s friend. He called me a few days ago and told me it was time to come home and that his brother would be taking my spot.”

I shake my head from the information overload, “Wait, you were stalking Jeremy?!”

“Stalking…watching over,” He makes a thoughtful face. 

“So, where does this leave us now?”

Alastair stands up and brushes himself off, and reaches a hand down for me to take. I think it over for a second and then place my hand in his, which makes a soft smile fall onto his face.

“That’s up to you. I’m here for the foreseeable future. And I kind of miss my work buddy, so…”

“For fucks sake,” I mutter before throwing my hands over Alastair’s shoulders and he quickly wraps his arms around me.

“You missed me, loser. Admit it.”

“Never.”

We part, and I give him a sideways grin, “Thank you for telling me everything, and I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

Alastair slightly shoves me and then shrugs, “Just don’t be going around town spilling my secrets, alright.”

I do a crossing-my-heart motion. 

“Y/n?”

My light mood instantly shifts as I hear my mother’s voice come from behind me. 

Alastair and I both turn to the dark-haired woman who stands at the front door with a blue robe wrapped around her. 

“Oh, Alastair! We haven’t seen you around here in some time,” My mother smiles at the man next to me, and he nods.

“I was away,” His now curt voice makes my mother nod.

“Well, Y/n’s got school in the morning, so she should be going to sleep now.”

I roll my eyes at my mother and then turn to Alastair, who is glaring at my mother. Ever since I told him a bit about my childhood, he’s always had disdain towards the woman. 

“Bye, loser,” Alastair places a kiss on the top of my head and then makes his way down the stairs. 

“Bye, Alastair.”

I turn back towards my mother and then push past her and go into the house.

“Why are you home so late, and whose clothes do you think you’re wearing?”

“Like you actually care,” I say as I continue to walk towards my room, but still hear her following after me.

“I am your mother and you’ll answer me when I talk to you,” She yells, and I whip around towards her. 

“Why don’t you just go back to work, Mom. That’s what you’re good at. Trust me, Theo and I are quite fine without you here. I’ve got the whole mother and father thing down.”

My harsh words stop her and give me the chance to open my door and shut it in her face. I sigh as I place my forehead on the frame of the door.

I hear a cough, and I whip around in surprise to see Theo lounging on my bed.

“Welcome home, Harlot.”

—--

“Theo, we are not having this discussion… GET IN THE CAR!”

Theo has been on a tangent about why I wasn’t home for a day, and then proceeded to come home in men’s clothing. He even camped out in my room so he could be all dramatic and catch me as soon as I came home. I eventually got him out of my room by grabbing him by the scruff of the neck like a mom cat does with her kittens. But of course, as soon as I was ready to be out the door for school this morning, Theo was camped out waiting for me. 

“I’ll get in the car if you tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened, you freak!”

Theo, who is standing by the passenger door of my car, crosses his arms, “So why’d you come home a day late in men’s clothes?”

“None of your business.”

Theo groans, “C’mon! Ok, how about this, you tell me which one it was and then I’ll get into the car.”

I narrow my eyes at my brother, “You do realize how weird this is, right, Theo?! You’re my little brother, we’re not supposed to be talking about this stuff.”

Theo thinks to himself for a moment before nodding, “Ok yeah, but c’mon. Jeremy’s gone, and I’ve got nothing better to do than hear you’re fucked up life.”

Damn.

“Just tell me.”

“Nope,” I open the driver’s side door and step in, “Theo if you don’t get in right now I’m leaving your ass.”

Theo doesn’t move until I turn on the car, and he’s quickly getting into his seat.

“Damn fine,” He’s quiet for 3 seconds, “So….”

“Shut the fuck up Theo.”

—-

The rest of the school day consists of me avoiding Theo and Rebekah. Theo, who was somehow lurking around every corner, and Bekah whom I had every class with. She kept staring at me with a knowing smirk, and whenever I told her not to start, she would shrug and then ask me to help her set up for the upcoming decade dance, to which I denied each time. 

Caroline found me as she was leaving school and said she was going to be having a little talk with me soon, since she heard from Bonnie that I was at the Mikaelson’s looking, in Bonnie’s words, “perfectly fucked.” Caroline said she was pissed she wasn’t the first to find out but after she runs some errand she’s doing she’s going to have a chat with me. Great.

—-

The next morning, I awoke to a loud knock at my bedroom door. 

“Theo, I swear to God!”

“It’s me,” A soft, feminine voice comes from the other side, “It’s Elena.”

Oh Jesus. 

“Come in.”

I sit up in bed as I watch the doppelganger slowly enter my room with a shy smile. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

We both watch each other until Elena clears her throat, “How have you been?”

“What do you want, Elena?”

Elena frowns, “What do you mean?”

I give her an annoyed look, “I haven’t seen you in weeks, after you all continuously tried killing my soulmates and their family, and all of a sudden you’re here. Why?”

Elena is quiet as she walks over and sits on my desk chair, “I missed you.”

I give her an annoyed look, and she shakes her head.

“I swear I do. And I promise that I would never do anything to hurt you. Yes, I know that we tried to kill Klaus, but as soon as I found out that it would kill you, we stopped. We’ve been trying to find a way to break the bond you have with him and Elijah to free you.”

“What if I don’t want the bond to be broken?”

Elena pauses and gives me a weird look, “Y/n…what do you mean? Klaus, he’s a monster, he killed me! How could you want to be with him?”

“Didn’t Damon kill Jeremy?”

Elena flinches back in shock, “Well… yes, but he’s alright now!”

“And aren’t you?”

Elena stands up and shakes her head, “Why are you acting like this?! We’re trying to help you.”

“Elena, I don’t want to be helped! I don’t need it! I like Elijah and I like Klaus, even though they both get on my fucking nerves… I-,” I pause and run a hand over my face as I stand up, “Do you not even realize that at just the thought of losing the bond, I feel like I’m literally going to die? I know what Klaus did to you and I’ll never forgive him for it, but…you guys can’t act like the Mikaelsons are the only people who have done wrong in this town.”

“Y/n, I didn’t know…”

“Of course you didn’t,” I raise my hands in exhaustion, “How could you? You never call or text anymore! All you guys care about is killing the people who have actually given me the time of day in the past weeks. You all were supposed ot be my friends, but at this point, it seems like the only times I hear from you are in passing moments or when you need information about Klaus. I’m sick of it, and I think you should leave.”

“Y/n..”

“Get out, Elena!”

Elena flinches at my outburst but still nods as she makes her way to my door. Her hand is on the knob when she turns back towards me. 

“Damon told me what he said to you,” My shoulders tense at her words, “He was wrong. You are worth fighting for, and I plan to fight for our friendship and winning back your trust. And I told him this,” She pauses and cringes, “After I punched him in the face for saying that.”

I don’t say anything, which makes Elena frown and then sigh, “Well, the decade dance is tonight and I’ve got to go set up with Caroline. I would ask you to join, but I know how much you hate stuff like that. But… if you do end up coming tonight, save me a dance, ok?”

With those final words, she walks out of my room. 

“And you say Jeremy and I are gay for one another,” I hear my younger brother say as he enters my room.

“Theo screw off.”

—-

“I’m really liking this idea of having supernatural in-laws,” Theo says as he enters the living room of the Mikaelsons.

He walks into the room wearing a 20s-style suit he borrowed from Kol since they’re around the same size. 

“Looked better on me,” Kol, who’s back from stalking Jeremy, mutters from beside me.

Theo lets out a loud laugh as he admires himself in the mirror. 

“Please, as if anyone could pull this off better than I.”

Kol says something in return, and then Theo responds, and their bickering continues on as I stand up and walk out of the living room.

I walk into the entryway, careful not to trip with the pumps I’m currently wearing, courtesy of Rebekah, who is nowhere to be found. 

“Beautiful.”

I turn towards the stairs where Elijah stands in a dark 20s style suit that only makes him even hotter. If possible. 

I brush my fingers over the beaded dark blue flapper dress I'm wearing and shrug, “Rebekah has good taste.”

“Although the dress is nice,” Elijah walks over to me and smiles, “I was talking about the woman wearing it.”

My face heats up at his smooth words, and I roll my eyes, trying to cover it up.

“I don’t want to go to this thing. You’re sister is making me, and yet she’s nowhere to be found.”

Elijah's face contorts into one of slight suspicion, “Yes, that is odd, but my guess is she is already at the dance, preparing finishing touches and yelling at the poor workers.”

Elijah's words settle in me, but I can’t fight the odd sinking feeling I have that tells me something bad is about to happen. 

“Just enjoy tonight, Elskan. I won’t leave your side.”

I sigh and smile at Elijah, “You know you don’t have to go to this thing, right?”

Elijah smirks, “And leave you alone in a room full of hormonal teenage boys looking like this,” His eyes, filled with something dark, travel down my frame, “Never in a thousand years.”

“Oh, Brother, she wouldn’t be alone, she has me,” Klaus’s sarcastic voice comes from around the corner as he enters the room wearing a white suit. Good Lord.

I laugh as Elijah rolls his eyes and turns to his younger brother, “Yes, Niklaus.”

Klaus’s smirk softens as he turns his attention away from his brother and over to me. He doesn’t say anything as he strides towards me, grabs my hand, and presses a soft kiss to it. 

“Breathtaking, Astin Min.” 

“Um, I think not, Dog,” Klaus is quickly pushed away from me by Theo, who has just entered the room with Kol.

“Call me dog again, Child and I-”

“Niklaus, please,” Elijah says tiredly.

Klaus glares at Theo but doesn’t say anything else, making Theo smirk. 

“Knock it off,” I slap Theo in the back of the head, and he screams dramatically.

He quickly runs over to Kol.

“Tell me she didn’t ruin my hair!”

Kol assesses the damage and then fixes one singular hair, “Still looks horrible.”

“I take it back, I hate this family…Except Rebekah. I like her. Why couldn’t you have been mated to her instead of these things,” Theo points a finger at Elijah and Klaus, who both look tired of Theo’s antics. 

“Theo, be nice. They’re the ones who gave you that suit you’re wearing.”

Theo turns his glare at me, “Only because you called them an hour ago asking them to. You know she doesn’t need you two tonight, right? Kol and I are perfectly fine protecting her.” 

“I still can’t believe I’m being made to go to this bloody thing,” Kol mutters to himself.

Klaus takes a step forward, and I place a hand on his chest to stop him, “Enough! All of you. Everyone get your asses in the car, right now.”

No one moves. 

“Fine, then I’ll go by myself. Maybe I’ll see if Matt Donovan wants to dance.”

As soon as I walk to the front door of the mansion, I hear all four of them follow behind me. Idiots.

—-

The most annoying car ride of my life is finally over as we pull into the parking lot of the high school. Dozens of students pile into the school, all wearing different assortments of 20s clothing. 

Where tf is everyone finding these old ass clothes?

Elijah gets out of the driver’s seat and makes his way over to the passenger side door to open it for me.

“Thank you, kind sir,” I smile at him, and he gives me the cutest grin ever. Almost makes you forget he’s literally a serial killer.

“Get me out of here!”

I turn to see Kol, Klaus, and my brother all push past each other to get out of the back seat, where they were all squished in together.  

“God,” Kol stands out of the car and brushes himself off, “I’d rather go back into the coffin than ever ride with you lot again.”

Klaus, who steps out behind him, glares at his little brother, “Arrangements can be made for that to happen.”

Kol just smirks at his brother and then walks over to me and grabs my shoulder, “Can’t dagger me, brother, Y/n said so.”

“I literally didn’t, but ok.”

Kol shoots me a glare, “We had a deal, Little doll.”

I roll my eyes, “Just keep an eye on you know who tonight.”

Kol and I both turn our attentions to Theo as he falls out of the call, landing on his ass.

Kol sighs, “Maybe the dagger would be easier.”

Kol shakes his head and then walks over to my brother, picks him up, and pulls him toward the school’s entrance, “C’mon, Little Nuisance.”

I watch with a small smile as Theo continues to talk Kol’s ear off as they enter the school.

“I don’t like that pairing.”

I look over to Klaus, who narrows his eyes.

Elijah responds, “No one does.”

A cold wind sends chills down my spine, “Well, you two can stand out here, but I’m going in.”

With that, I begin walking towards the entrance. It’s not even a moment later that I feel both brothers grab each of my arms. 

“You guys do realize how many people are going to talk about me entering the dance with two dates, right?”

I see Klaus and Elijah peer at one another, and then Klaus shrugs, “I’ve never been one to shy away from public attention.”

—-

Loud music and bright lights fill my senses as all three of us enter the dance. The gym is decorated with red and white decorations, and the entire floor is covered with people dancing to swing music. 

“How…human.”

Klaus’s remark makes me smirk. 

“You made it!” 

Caroline’s loud voice comes from beside me, and I turn to see her dressed in a beautiful flapper gown. She looks at me for a moment before her attention turns to the men by my side.

“Um…hi,” Caroline says less enthusiastically. 

“They’ve promised to behave,” I speak for both men, “No bloodshed tonight. They’re just here as my dates.”

Caroline seems to ease up with that. 

“Ok cool…in that case, I need to ask a favor,” She reaches a hand out for me to take, and I turn to Elijah and Klaus. Elijah gives me an encouraging smile whilst Klaus looks annoyed. I still grab Caroline’s hand and let her guide me through the crowd of people. 

“What’s going on?”

Caroline brings me to a table full of snacks, “Tyler’s here.”

“Oh.”

I remember bits of Klaus telling me how he was going to kill his hybrid for leaving him, so him being here isn’t the best idea. 

“Is there any way you could ask Klaus to just give us tonight?”

I let out a sigh, “I don’t know if he’ll listen to me, Care.”

Caroline gives me a look, “Seriously Slut! That man would burn everything in his path if it meant you’d never feel cold. You walk all those Mikaelsons like dogs.”

I roll my eyes at her antics, “Fine. I’ll ask.” 

I begin to walk away, but she quickly pulls me into a hug, “Sorry! I know you don’t like touching, but I’m just so happy. And trust me when I say tomorrow you’re going to give me all the dirty details about your trysts with those brothers,” Caroline beams at me, “God, I can’t believe I just said that! My baby is growing up and spreading her legs!”

My mouth drops open in shock, “CAROLINE!”

Caroline just smirks and pushes me towards the crowd. 

What the fuck.

I push through hordes of dancing teenagers as I try to find my guys. 

“SISTER!!!”

A strong grba pulls me from the crowd, and I see Theo smile brightly at me, “Look who’s back!!!”

I turn to look at Jeremy, whom my brother is pointing at, and smile at him, “Nice to see you, Jeremy. Now Theo has someone else to both now.”

“Hey!”

I ignore my brother and watch as Jeremy gives him a soft smile. Kol stands beside them and stares at me with an annoyed look, making me smirk. 

I wink at the Mikaelson and go to say goodbye to my brother, but he’s already talking to Jeremy’s who listens intently. 

I continue on my venture until I see Klaus and Elijah standing with Stefan and Elena. Oh Goody. 

I walk up to them cautiously, and it doesn’t even take a moment before they notice me. 

“Y/n, Hi! I’m so glad you came. You look so pretty,” Elena smiles at me, and I force a smile in return.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re calling for a truce,” Elena says quickly, “For you. I listened to what you said earlier, and even though I don’t like Klaus and never will,” I hear Klaus mutter something under his breath, “I’m willing to live with him if it means you stay safe.”

“And you’re cool with this,” I turn to Klaus, who definitely doesn’t look cool with this.

“He’ll agree with it if it means you’re safe and out of harm's way,” Elijah speaks up for him, “Right, Niklaus?”

Klaus glares at Elena and Stefan for a moment before looking at me, instantly dropping the glare. I give him a hopeful look, and I instantly see his shoulders loosen. 

“I’m up to listening to them.”

Phew, well, that solves things. 

“Well, not that we’re good, I should probably tell you this now. Tyler’s here!”

Klaus’s look instantly shifts into one of pure murderous rage.

I quickly grab his hand before he can go kill someone, though, “Dance with me!”

I pull Klaus behind me, and surprisingly, he doesn’t need much force to pull him onto the dance floor. Once we’re on the dance floor surrounded by people, I freeze. 

“Ya, so…I don’t know how to dance,” I shrug, and Klaus rolls his eyes before grabbing me and pulling me into him. 

He sways me to the soft music, and I watch him as he is clearly in his head right now, planning many murders. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” I softly say, knowing he can still hear me over the music. 

My voice shakes him from his plotting, and he gives me a soft look, “And let me brother bore you all night long? Never.”

“Elijah isn’t boring,” I chastise, and he gives me a look, “Don’t be mean.”

“The twenties were a vivacious time. Music was loud, liquor was spilling, and people lived freely,” Klaus says as he spins me. 

“Sounds nice, y’know, except the racism, sexism, and homophobia.”

Klaus ponders for a moment before nodding, “Yes, that did make the period much worse.”

“Thank you for letting Alastair come back.”

Klaus’ eyes meet mine, “You’re welcome.”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Ask for anything and it’s yours,” His voice comes out strong, and I know he means it.

“Don’t kill Tyler.”

“Anything besides that.”

“Klaus, come on, please! He’s my friend and Caroline’s boyfriend, and technically, you were the one who uprooted his entire life and quite literally killed him.”

“He went against me,” He growls.

“One, don’t growl at me, and two he’s a fucking teenager! He’s going to act out!”

Klaus and I glare at each other until he finally breaks.

“Only on one condition.’’

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

I fight back the grin fighting to break onto my face, “You’d really spare Tyler’s life if it meant I gave you one tiny kiss?”

Klaus smirks, “What can I say? I’m a man with a horrible addiction.”

"And what addiction would that be?"

Klaus smirks down at me, "You."

I shake my head and laugh, “You’re pathetic.”

Klaus’s face shifts, and I realize I must’ve hurt his feelings. I don’t give it a second thought as I lean forward and place my lips onto his. The kiss, unlike our usual ones, is soft and filled with something unspoken.

I pull back and smile at him, “I’m starting to think I like my men pathetic.”

It’s Klaus’s turn to laugh as he throws his head back at my words.

“I fear I’m stepping into an odd conversation,” Elijah says from beside us.

“Then leave,” Klaus remarks, giving his brother a look.

“I was hoping I could steal you for a dance,” Elijah says, looking at me.

I turn towards Klaus, who looks annoyed, and I kiss his face softly, “Get me a drink?”

Klaus rolls his eyes but still makes his way towards the refreshments table. 

“Hmm, maybe Caroline was right.”

Elijah takes my hand in mine and swings me, the music having a faster pace now.

“Right about what, My Love?”

I look at him and shake my head, “Oh, nothing.”

“You wouldn't be hiding something from me, would you,” Elijah smirks as he spins me so my back is pressed to his front and he sways us. 

“And if I were?”

Elijah leans down so our lips are mere millimeters away, “Then I’d have to find a way to get that secret out of you, wouldn’t I?”

I giggle at his words and then let out a louder laugh as he grabs under my arms and swings me on either side of him, my legs flying in the air. 

He sets me back on the ground as I laugh, “Now I’m starting to wonder what you were doing during the 20s.”

Elijah places a chaste kiss on my lips, “If you can have your secrets, My Dear, then so shall I?’’

The song comes to an end after another minute, and Elijah leads me over to Klaus, who is standing with a scowl, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He hands me a cup of punch, and I smile at him. 

“Enjoying yourself,” I ask him.

“Not as much as our brothers,” Klaus nods forward, and I look to see Theo, Jeremy, and Kol all dancing off beat to some newer age song. 

“That’s unsettling.”

Klaus and Elijah both hum in agreement. 

“Ugh, Y/n?”

I turn to see Elena approach all three of us cautiously. 

“Hey, Elena.”

Elena seems to be relieved that I’m actually speaking to her, “Could we talk?”

I look towards Klaus and Elijah, who watch Elena skeptically.

“Ya,” I walk towards her and feel both brothers follow me.

“Give us a minute alone,” I say to them, and they both look stressed about the idea of leaving me alone with someone in the Scooby gang, but they still let me go with Elena out to the hallway. 

Elena and I made it to a small bench in the hallway and we watch some students walk by as we sit together in silence. 

“I missed you. I mean… I miss you.”

Elena’s words make me frown, “Continue.”

“I know I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I was…I was just scared I was going to lose you, too. I promise it had nothing to do with Klaus being your soulmate. Yes, I hate the man, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. I could never. Lately, I’ve been so self-centered with the Salvatore brothers and everything that’s going on that I didn’t even think to see how you were doing with everything, and I’m sorry. I wish we could just go back to it just being us and our little book club,” Elena sadly laughs.

I watch a clearly drunk girl be held up by two of her friends as they walk by us, “That feels like another lifetime ago.”

“It doesn’t have to be, though,” I turn to Elena at her words, “I promise from here on out I’ll be a better friend to you. No secrets between us. If I know something, you’ll know it too. I swear…just please give me another chance?”

I’m really just forgiving everyone today, aren’t I? Who am I the fucking Pope?

“Fine…but only on one condition,” I tell her, and she nods her head so fast I think it might shake off, “No more plotting behind my back. I don’t want to break the soul bond, so tell Bonnie to stop looking.”

Elena pauses for a second but then nods her head, “If that's what it takes, then ok, I’ll tell her.”

We sit there for another moment, but I can see Elena practically buzzing with energy.

“So we’re good,” She asks.

“We’re on probation.”

Elena lets out a small squeal and pulls me into a tight hug, “Can we have a sleepover tonight? We have a lot ot talk about?”

“Uh, ya ok. I’m sure Jeremy and Theo will be having a sleepover too since he’s back in town.”

Elena's smile gets bigger, if possible, at the mention of her brother, “Ya, Jeremy was talking about how excited he was to see Theo the entire way bringing him home.”

I groan, “Ugh, tell me about it. As soon as Theo got the call from Jeremy telling him he was coming home, he literally squealed and ran into my room, hopping on my bed like a kid on Christmas morning.”

“If they were anyone else, I’d think they were in love with each other,” Elena jokes, and I laugh.

She laughs.

Then we both stop laughing. 

Wait. 

Oh. 

They couldn’t…

“They’re not…”

“I mean…”

Elena and I both sit in silence and stare forward as we think. 

We both turn back to each other, and I open my mouth and then close it. She does the same. 

“Let’s put this conversation on the back burner,” Elena says as she sees Damon and Stefan approach us.

“Definitely.”

Damon and Stefan approach us, and Stefan gives me a smile, to which I ignore.

“I’ll be leaving now.”

I got to leave, but Elena grabs my hand, “Nope. No things from you. Whatever they want to say to me, they can say in front of you.”

“Fine by me,” Damon says and then turns to me and gives me a small smile, “Hey Pukey.”

“Die in a hole.”

Stefan snorts out a laugh, and Elena clears her throat. 

“What's going on, Stefan?”

—-

So remember when I said I had a feeling something was going to go wrong, and everyone told me to chill out? Ya. Guess who was right?!

So, from what the squirrel eater was saying was basically that Alaric is a serial killer, but it’s not technically him since he’s being possessed by his evil self that he now has because of the ring that brought him back from the dead too many times. And now his evil self is fully in control, and he’s not taking the herbs Bonnie made him to get rid of his evil self. 

Cool.

 “Why don’t we get him off vervain and compel him,” Stefan suggests.

“To do what, pretend to be Alaric? The guy that we know is gone,” Damon says, “We’re talking about someone who not only hates vampires but vampire sympathizers, which makes one of his targets, oh, I don’t know, you two?”

Elena and I eye each other. He’s not wrong. 

“What? You think he’d go after Elena and Y/n?”

“Just another Tuesday,” I say to myself casually. 

“So wait. What are you suggesting we do?”

Damon looks at Elena, “I’m suggesting we put him out of his misery.”

I laugh, “Of course you suggest killing your only friend.”

“What!”

“No way in hell,” A loud voice comes from behind us, and I turn to see Jeremy.

“Oh, come on,” Damon looks at the boy, “It’s what he would want. It’s a mercy killing.”

“You are out of your mind.”

Elena takes a step towards her brother, and he stops her, “Jeremy..”

And the next thing I know, Elena’s dragging me down the hall after her brother. Now that she’s got me back, I’m really starting to doubt she’s going to let me go anytime soon. 

—

“Jeremy, stop!”

Elena and I follow Jeremy outside. 

“This is Alaric we’re talking about. He looked out for us, and we need to do the same for him.”

Elena shakes her head, “No one is going to hurt him.”

Jeremy scoffs and begins walking away. Elena follows him.

“Hey, look at me. I promise.”

“Elena.”

Oh I know that fuckass British voice.

Esther, mind you, a supposed to be dead, Esther stands before us.

“Oh no way in fucking hell. You were dead!”

“I was brought back, hello Y/n.”

“Elena, if you wish to help your friend Alaric, I suggest you come with me.”

“Jeremy, go inside and take Y/n. Go get Stefan and Damon now,” Elena tells her brother.

Jeremy goes to grab me but I shake my head, “Someone needs to stay with Elena and I’m not letting that bitch out of my sight,” I point to Esther who side eyes me, “Go get Elijah and Klaus.”

It might just be me, but I think my vampires would fare better in this fight than Elena’s. 

Jeremy leaves us, and I go to stand next to Elena, who grabs my hand in hers. Old habits die hard, I guess. 

“I mean you no harm,” Esther tells Elena.

I snort, “Funny how she doesn’t say that to me. Wonder why,” I raise an eyebrow at the witch.

“I apologize for my actions in causing you harm, My Dear. I’ve had time on the other side to think over my ways, and I realize now that what I did was wrong. You are nothing but a victim of fate.”

Forget Elijah, I’m going to rip this lying bitch’s head off myself. 

“You will come with me, Elena.”

With that the bitch turns around and starts walking. Elena looks at me and then starts following her. I grab her hand, stopping her.

“What the hell are you thinking?”

“It’s Ric, Y/n. I have to. You stay here, I’ve got this.”

Elena pulls her hand away and follows after Esther. I watch them for a moment before letting out a loud groan and running after them. 

A machete would come in real handy right now. 

—-

“You’ll forgive me for taking you from the dance this evening, ” Esther says as she leads Elena and me through a dark cemetery, “That’s the burden of being the doppleganger, I’m afraid. Your blood is a potent binding agent for a witch’s spell.”

I roll my eyes at her words. 

“Please just don’t hurt Alaric,” Elena begs.

“She’s not hurting me.”

I look forward and see Alaric come out from behind a tree. Very dramatic. 

Elena goes towards him with a smile on her face, but I stop her as I look at the cold glint in Ric’s eyes. 

“What’s going on? What are you doing with him?”

“I’m going to remake him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Make him strong, fast, like my children,” Esther gazes at me as she says that, “Indestructible. For one final time, I’m going to tap into the dark magic I used a thousand years ago. Like my husband Mikael before him, I will make Alaric into a true hunter, the vampire to end all vampires.”

“You can’t create another original. What if he turns out to be a bigger monster than your children?”

“He won’t. Now that he’s embraced his darkest aspect. His hatred for them will become more pure and uncompromising. In death, that hatred will be magnified.”

“You really are a crazy bitch,” I shake my head at her amazed.

“You don’t know anything about him,” Elena tells her.

“That is where you’re wrong. Each time he died with that ring during his brief journey into death, I was there on the other side. I spoke to him. I nurtured him, knowing that every death brought him closer to his true self. Vampires took everything from him. Now he’s getting his vengeance.”

“So you’re basically saying you groomed him? I knew you were evil, Esther, but that has got to be a new low even for you,” I glare at her, and she shakes her head at me. 

“My child-”

“I am not your child,” I growl at her and release harsh breaths through my nose, trying to calm myself.

“You defend my children, but you have only known them for a split second of their millennium. They have lived 10 lifetimes more than I don’t blame you for falling for their charms.”

I let out a sick laugh, “You know nothing about me.”

“I know what the birthmark on your shoulder means.”

My eyes narrow.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Confusion clouds Esther’s eyes for a moment before a look of sorrow comes over her face, “You defend my children, and yet they hide from you who you truly are.”

“Once again, what the hell are you talking about, Esther?”

“That birthmark on your shoulder isn’t just a coincidence, My Dear. No, it has a long history of bloodshed and misery that comes with it. My children know what it means, and yet they haven’t told you.”

“So why don’t you tell me right now,” I challenge her.

“You’re a monster bound to the moon, My Child.” 

—- 

Elena has just stuck a stake through Alaric’s heart, and yet I can’t feel anything. I’ve been staring at the stone wall in front of me for the past 10 minutes since Esther just dropped a bomb on me.

“Monster bound to the moon.”

A wolf. 

Maybe she was lying. Maybe this is some kind of psychological warfare. Maybe she's…

“Y/n, someone's here,” Elena pushes me u,p and I feel myself stand up and follow her, my mind is still buzzing and I’m not really sure what is going on, but I watch as Matt and Jeremy stand before us with bows. 

Esther says something to them, but I’m so out of it that I notice the shift when they both pull their weapons on to one another through Esther’s control. 

“Esther, stop!’”

Elena’s yells are interrupted but a gasp from Esther, and I turn to see Alaric stab her right in the back.

—-

“How many times will we have to deal with our mother’s dead body?”

I look up from my seated position on the dirty ground to see Kol, Elijah, Klaus, Theo, and the Salvatore brothers, all staring down at Esther’s dead body. 

Theo’s eyes meet mine, and he instantly runs over to me and kneels in front of me, “Y/n, are you ok? What happened,” He places his hands on the side of my face, checking me over for injuries, “I swear, if that witch did anything to you, I’ll find a way to bring her back to life just so I can kill her myself. 

Elijah and Klaus both stand behind my brother now, both assessing me.

“Elskan?’”

“Luv, tell us what’s wrong?”

“Did you know?”

Both of them frown in confusion, and Kol joins us.

“Know what, Luv?”

“Did you know what my birthmark means,” I finally look up at them to gauge their reactions, and even though they’ve had a thousand years on me, I can still read them clearly. 

They knew. 

Elijah sighs deeply, “Y/n, I swear-”

“Go.”

“Elskan, please…”

I stand up so fast that Theo almost falls over; thankfully, Kol grabs him and helps him stand up. 

“I said, go, Elijah! I don’t want to see either of you! Grab your deaad mother and leave me the fuck alone,” I snarl in anger at them and Elijah and Klaus both have looks of hurt on their faces. Good. 

Klaus steps forward, but Theo quickly stands in front of him, blocking me from his sight. 

“She said leave, Klaus,” Theo’s words come out strong. 

Jeremy, who was standing next to Elena, comes to stand next to my brother, blocking Elijah from seeing me. 

“You heard the lady, brothers,” Kol steps in between Theo and Klaus, “You grab mommy dearest, and I’ll make sure everyone gets home nice and safe.”

I don’t see them, but I hear a low growl and then footsteps. I peek around Theo and see Klaus pick up Esther’s body, and both brothers leave the graveyard. 

“Thanks,” I choke out, and Theo instantly turns back to me.

He wipes a stray tear from my face and pulls me into a tight hug, “Stop getting kidnapped, please. You’re giving me wrinkles.”

I pull away from Theo and smile at Jeremy, who nods and then walks over to Alaric. 

“Did you know,” I ask Kol.

Kol gives me a look, “Not a clue what birthmark you’re talking about, Doll. But if you want to show me,” He smirks, and Theo punches him in the shoulder.

—-

The next hour consists of everyone saying their goodbyes to Ric, who decided not to complete the transition and to let himself die. Everyone here is filled with sorrow and has tears in their eyes, well… except for Kol. Kol looks clearly uncomfortable at the emotions being thrown around and clearly just wants to go home. 

Jenna exits the tombstone with a sob, and I hold out my arms for her, and she dives into me. I feel her tears coat my shoulder as I shush her. 

“I’ve got you, Jen. I’ve got you.” 

Theo stands next to Jeremy with a hand on his shoulder, Bonnie, Caroline, Tyler, and Matt all stand together, and Elena walks out of the tomb next, and I don’t even have to say anything because she’s already diving into my arms. She and Jenna both cry into my shoulders for another moment before Jenna leans back to look at me.

“Do you want to…”

I don’t say anything but just nod, leaving both women to console one another.

I walk into the tomb to see a ghostly-looking Ric sitting against the wall. He notices me and gives me a painful smile. 

“Hey, Kiddo.”

“Heya, Ric.”

I sit across from him in silence. 

“Are you scared?”

Ric looks at me for a moment, “I’ve already died like a thousand times, what’s one more?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Kiddo,” Ric tells me with tear-filled eyes, “You just stay you, alright? Don’t let any of this supernatural stuff ruin you like it did me. You’re too good. You, Theo, Elena, and Jeremy look out for each other, alright? You guys need each other.”

I release a shaking breath, “Will do. And I’m sorry I never turned in my paper on the Industrial Revolution,” I try to joke, but my tears just make it even sadder.

Ric laughs, though, so it was worth it. 

“No problem, Kid. I’m sure it would’ve been brilliant.”

I stand up and give him one last look before walking to the door.

“Y/n?”

I turn around. “It was a pleasure to meet such a bright mind like yours. You will always be my best student.”

I give him a sad smile, “You were a pretty good teacher yourself, Ric.”

—-

Theo, Jenna, and both Gilbert siblings walk in front of me as we enter the Gilbert household. Kol walks beside me, keeping his word on making sure everyone got home safe. 

“Alright, I’m done here.”

I look at Kol and give him a smile, “Thank you, Kol.”

Kol eyes me for a second before shrugging, “Just keeping up with our deal, Doll.”

I give him a look, “Ya…sure.”

He rolls his eyes and runs off without another word. The cold wind brushes through my hair, and my gaze makes its way up towards the star-filled sky. My eyes lock onto the daunting crescent moon in the sky, and a sick feeling washes over me. 

“Y/n?”

I turn towards the front door, where Elena is standing with her hand held out for me, then give one last glance at the moon, and then turn back to my friend.

“I’m coming, Lena.”

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley returns home to good news and an exhausted wife. Making plans for the future is something he lives for now, but thoughts from his week in Fort Worth seem to linger.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, masturbation, oral sex, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Sweetheart," Bradley sighed. His heart rate finally calmed down after trying several times to reach you by phone. "How are you? How's the Nugget?"

You were quiet for a beat before saying, "We're okay." You did not sound happy, and it was probably because he'd missed several of your calls over the past few days. It wasn't like he meant to, there was just a lot of work and other distractions for him here. 

"Yeah? Not amazing?" He couldn't tell if your laugh was one of annoyance, so he plowed on as he stood from the steps outside the barracks, still sweaty from his run. "I'll be home the day after tomorrow, and then I'll take care of Rosie and everything at the house."

You sighed. "First thing we need to do when you get home is talk."

Bradley froze, brow creased in concern as his hand froze on the door handle. "About what?"

Another soft beat of silence. "We'll figure it out when you get back."

"Figure what out?" He didn't know if you were intentionally being vague, but it was irritating him a bit. "Can't we just talk about it now?"

"Shit." He could hear Rose starting to wail in the background, and it sounded like you dropped your phone. "Roo, I need to go. She had another blowout. I love you."

"I love you, too, Baby Girl."

The call ended before he got to tell you about his week. He was hoping you'd ask him about work, but you didn't even check to see if his first few days fully engrossed in his new role were going well.

You were either stressed close to your breaking point, or something else was bothering you. He went back inside to hit the shower, but his thoughts lingered even when the hot water streamed along his skin. Like there was something he was supposed to remember. He couldn't focus on any one thing, which was irritating in itself. He was ready to head home and get back to work in North Island, but he also wanted to make sure he left Texas with everything in order. He and the admirals needed to make their final selections tomorrow, and then he would know who would be joining him in San Diego in a few weeks.

In his opinion, there were ten exceptional pilots here that would be a good fit at Top Gun. Indigo and Rex were at the top of the list with very promising careers ahead of them, and Bradley was looking forward to eventually joining them in the air.

He really wanted to get home to you and Rose, but he had to get through a dinner in his dress blues first. The young pilots would probably be surprised when he finally joined them for a drink.

When he eventually got into bed, he looked through all of the pictures of his daughter on his phone. There were hundreds of them, which seemed impressive for someone just a few months old. Then he scrolled through wedding photos. And then honeymoon photos, not all of which were rated PG.

"Oh, I remember that night," he murmured to himself when he got to a beautiful collection of pictures of you with your ass in the air, looking back at him over your shoulder. "I remember it very well."

Jesus. You looked so good in these photos, it was absolutely insane. Even the PG ones were hotter than hell. But when you wore that red bikini? Perfection. And now he was hard and already searching for the video you and he made together many, many months ago.

He jerked off in the extra long twin bed, getting harder as he watched the recording of him spanking you and calling you his filthy slut. Then he came all over his abs, thinking about how many times he took you rough in his barracks room in San Diego early on in your relationship. When he thought about the Craftsman house he bought for you more than for himself, he couldn't stop smiling. You made it the first home he had since his mom died. And now he had a daughter.

Counting his blessings was pointless when he knew they all came from you. One more long day and he'd be home with his family. He couldn't stop yawning as he cleaned himself up, and he passed out for the night as soon as he was under the covers.

The next day was a flutter of activity. There was a classroom session in the morning that Bradley had to lead. He wasn't used to talking so much and actually found it exhausting. And everywhere he looked around the room, he could feel indigo eyes on him.

Then the afternoon was filled with flight analysis which solidified in his mind the pilots he wanted to select. After a quick conversation with the admirals when everyone else was dismissed, they were all in agreement.

Later that night at dinner, Bradley got to announce to everyone who had been chosen. There were definitely some unhappy expressions, but he was met with Indigo's smile as she shook his hand after the champagne had been served.

"Congratulations," he told her, juggling his champagne flute to his other hand. 

"Lieutenant Commander," she replied. "You'll have to let me in on the secret of the best bar in Coronado so I know where to hang out in a few weeks. You found the best one here on your own, after all."

He had to chuckle. He hadn't been back to that bar since his first night in Texas, despite the best efforts of some of the officers. "I have no doubt you'll find it without my help."

She released his hand, eyes roaming his face before settling on his mustache. "I'm sure I will. Are you sticking around for another drink?" she asked hopefully when he set his empty glass on a passing tray.

"Early flight tomorrow morning," he shrugged. "And I'm still not used to this time zone, so I shouldn't. I don't want to miss it."

She nodded once as he turned to leave, and her parting words stuck in his mind. "I can't wait to see you at Top Gun, Lieutenant Commander."

Bradley was going to have to keep an eye on her. He didn't want her trying to gain any sort of advantage over the others. Her gaze was warm on his back as he headed to the silent barracks alone.

--------------------------

The flight to San Diego was turbulent. You would have hated it, but Bradley slept the whole time like a pro. He should have spent the time reading his notes for work on Monday, but he decided it was more important to get a nap in so he could let you rest for the weekend. He had everything planned out on his mind, including making dinner tonight and taking Rose and Tramp for a beach walk tomorrow. That would give you sufficient time to rest.

He was expecting you to look worn out, but when he rushed through baggage claim to find you, he was still surprised by what he found. Rose was crying in your arms, and you looked on the verge of tears yourself. You were wearing one of his ratty shirts he reserved for days he was doing yardwork, and you had on his sweatpants which were rolled up and tied at your waist.

"Baby Girl," he called out, drawing your gaze to his. There was spit up on the burp cloth draped over your shoulder, and Rose seemed to cry louder the closer he got. "Are you okay?"

When you started nodding, it quickly turned into you shaking your head as he got close enough to wrap his arms around both of you. Bradley was immediately lost in the sweet smell of his daughter as he buried his nose against her fuzzy hair and inhaled. He let his lips trail soft kisses along her forehead before taking her from your arms.

"Tell me what's wrong," he whispered, kissing your lips. "Tell me so I can fix it."

He hushed Rose and kept his face close to yours as you cried softly. "Nothing's wrong. Or maybe... I don't know, Roo. I'm fucking pregnant," you sobbed.

Surely he'd misheard. "What did you say?" he gasped, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you in tighter as you cried and nodded. "You're seriously pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Holy shit." A dizzying smile curled along his lips. "Hell yes!" This was incredible news as far as he was concerned, but you were still crying as your face came to rest against his chest. Then his stomach lurched, because he'd missed several of your calls this week. You must have known for days as you'd been trying to reach him.

He bounced Rose gently in the crook of his arm, listening to her cries soften until she settled against him as well. "Sweetheart. You're not happy about this?"

Your tear streaked cheeks drew his lips as you looked up at him. "I don't know, Bradley," you whispered, voice harsh. "I just don't know what to think at all. I'm sure it happened in La Jolla, when I was supposed to be on the pill."

When your voice broke on a fresh sob, Bradley led you toward his duffle bag which had appeared on the baggage carousel, and he scooped it up seamlessly. Somehow he kept both of his girls close all the way to your red Bronco, his heart hammering the whole time. He was obsessed with his role as a father, and to him this was a best case scenario. He just needed you to understand how he felt about this.

After buckling Rose into her car seat, she was immediately asleep. Then he laced his fingers with yours, leading you around to the passenger side door, kissing your forehead.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he promised, tipping your face up to meet his eyes. "And I'd love another baby. Is this what we needed to talk about?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "This week was so long, and Rose has been miserable. And I could barely reach you on the phone, and-"

"I'm home now. Let me take care of my family." He let his hand trail down to your belly as he kissed you hard.

Once you were buckled in as well, you were sound asleep before Bradley had the Bronco out of the airport loop. By the end of the weekend, he would have your doubts about baby number two erased, replaced with the joy he felt over growing his family. 

-----------------------------

You weren't sure how he managed to get both you and Rose inside the house without you waking up, but he did it. Hours later, you rolled over in bed, eyes cracking open when you heard Bradley playing with the baby in the living room. Your whole body ached from exhaustion, but it was your tender breasts that sent you to find them so you could get some relief.

The fact that you still didn't know how you felt about the positive pregnancy test now that Bradley knew about it as well just added to your fatigue. It was almost too much to consider at the moment. Another baby. Another smaller baby crying at night. A chorus of cries, and two babies spitting up.

When you found your shirtless husband laying on the floor with Rose giggling as she balanced on his chest while Tramp licked his face, you couldn't help but smile. He was singing a ridiculous song and tickling her sides. You felt guilty for being so scared about having a second child when you let your fingers rest on your tummy and watched him. He was a natural. Sometimes you felt like you were struggling through parenting, but Bradley made it seem so easy.

"I know it's a lot of responsibility for someone so small, but you're already getting your first rank promotion," he murmured, leaning up to kiss her cheek. "Big sister Bradshaw, you need to report for duty next year."

When you found yourself laughing, Bradley met your eyes and smiled. "How was your nap, Mommy?"

"I feel a lot better," you replied, yanking your shirt over your head, drawing your husband's gaze to your chest as you unhooked your bra. "How did you get her to calm down?"

Bradley looked a bit dazed as he stared at your bare chest. "The Nugget just missed me," he murmured, breathing a little heavy. His cheeks were tinged with pink as you reached for Rose to feed her. "Holy fucking shit, Sweetheart. We're having another baby." You nodded a bit helplessly, feeling so overwhelmed as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as you were sitting on the couch. "Two Nuggets," he said, petting Tramp as he stood. "And another year or more of my wife lactating."

You were dreading the weight gain and nausea and lack of sleep, but when he looked at you like this, it was hard to feel unappealing. Bradley's eyes were absolutely fixed on the beads of milk rolling down to your belly as Rose eventually switched sides.

"Can I have a turn when she naps?" he rasped, adjusting his gym shorts, absolutely unashamed. "It's been a week. I need it."

Soon enough, you had him in bed, practically curled up on your lap with his lips all over your breasts. "We're supposed to be talking about plans for another baby," you whispered, loving the scrape of his mustache against your skin. "I have a lot of concerns."

Bradley moaned, releasing you with a soft pop. "We can talk while I enjoy you," he promised. "What are you concerned about?"

He ran his nose along your taut nipple, and you moaned his name. "Bradley. One baby is expensive. How are we going to manage two? And we'll need to get another crib. And I have to make an appointment with Dr. Morris. And I can't believe you got me pregnant again while Rose is still a baby."

His lips grazed along your sensitive skin, and you were helpless to do anything but let your fingers thread through his hair. "What's so hard to believe?" he whispered. "We worked at it for months to have Rose, so this seems fair. And it's not like I can keep my dick out of your pussy. It was bound to happen whether you missed a pill or not." His tongue was warm as he lapped at you, his big hand splayed low on your belly. "I couldn't be fucking happier."

"Bradley," you gasped, back arching at his touch.

"We'll figure it out. I promise," he crooned. "Two babies. I'm so in love, Baby Girl. And you'll be nice and round again soon. Holy hell."

You didn't want to point out that your belly was still chubby and your hips were still round. Not when he was praising everything about you and the situation the two of you were caught up in. Two babies. Two. He was whining your name and rubbing himself against you, and next thing you knew, he had you on your back, legs flung over his shoulders. 

He ate your pussy, taking his sweet time about it while his thumb traced your tattoo. He drew out your orgasm slowly. His lips were latched onto your clit as his big hands kept you spread wide. "Missed you. Love you," he hummed, kissing his way along your slick. "Making me a Daddy all over again, Sweetheart."

"Roo," you whispered, keeping him where you needed him with your hands in his hair. "Daddy."

You came on his face, pussy needy and clenching at nothing before he shoved his cock inside you. The feral sound you made as your orgasm intensified, gripping him as he groaned and grunted in your ear, was loud enough to wake Rose from her nap. But you couldn't stop when he made you feel so good you nearly blacked out.

"I love you. And Rose. And our perfect baby we haven't met quite yet."

--------------------------

By the end of the weekend, you were smiling more. The naps you were afforded by having Bradley back home definitely helped, he could tell. But you seemed more at ease with the idea of two children close in age the more you and he talked about it.

"We have some options," he whispered, kissing you as you snuggled up with him on the couch on Sunday night. The episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills was playing in the background, but he'd lost interest in it before it even started. "We can move Rose to the bedroom by the stairs, or we can turn that into nursery number two."

You crinkled your nose. "That's so far away from our bedroom."

"But we can't move Rose upstairs yet."

"No way," you agreed. "Maybe they can share a room?"

"Hmm. That would make it easier for Tramp to nap with both of them at the same time."

Your laughter made him feel so much better as he snuggled you closer. He could happily fall asleep like this until it was time to go to work tomorrow.

"Oh," you murmured, "I didn't even ask about your time in Texas."

Bradley immediately pictured startlingly blue eyes as you laced your fingers with his. "Was good," he replied, realizing just how much busier his life was about to become. A new role at work and a new baby. Students to teach and two kids at home.

"Tell me all about it," you murmured, stifling a yawn.

He found there wasn't much to talk about other than Indigo and Rex, and he didn't want to bore you. "Maybe I was a bit stingy, but I only invited ten pilots to come to Top Gun. Two will more than likely make it through the program. The rest... we'll see."

"Who are the two that will make it through?" 

Your yawns grew in intensity as you closed your eyes, and he knew you needed to get plenty of sleep. Bradley kissed the tip of your nose, figuring you would be asleep before he finished his sentence. "Rex and Indigo, but Indigo is the best."

---------------------------

Baby number two! The Nuggets are multiplying! Roo needs to keep his head in the game if he wants a happy wife. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 30

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[sanjisblackasswife]

Gojo is a virgin. part 1

Black Fem! Reader in Mind

Bad Summary: are you a virgin because you’re gojo satoru or are you gojo satoru and that’s why you’re a virgin?

CW: PWP, Mentions of Past Relationship with Toji, Trying so hard to make this as close to CANON Gojo as I can, Reader is not a virgin, making out, fingering

Not by choice either and he knows it.

Does it bother him?

It didn’t until you pointed it out to him one day.

“Why y’teasing me, huh? It’s not that big of a fucking deal.”

“It isn’t, I just assumed you were a man whore.”

He doesn’t know whether to be insulted by you calling him out on his sexless life or you assuming he’d fuck anything with a pulse.

It’s not like he WANTED to be 29 and a virgin he just never found anybody that peaked his interested and if he did he wouldn’t have time for her. He’s a busy man living a dangerous life, he doesn’t have much time anymore to go out and meet people to form a close enough bond because one night stands with a stranger is completely out the question.

You could almost feel his eyes burn a hole in your head as you watched a movie with him that evening, your smile crept into his field a vision with made his jaw clench.

“Looooook at the movie, big boy.” You direct his chin with your fingers to watch the TV, but he snaps his head back at you.

“You think you know everything huh…”

“Whatchu mean.” You shrug, popping another popcorn into your mouth, eyes still on the television.

“I’ll have you know if I wanted to have sex right now I can…WITH ANYBODY.”

“Like Suguru.”

“NO NOT HIM.”

“Good because he is so out your league.”

“You—-“

Without thought you straddle him, it’s not really anything you haven’t done before. As teens he always would grab your waist to make you sit on his lap and then tease you for getting shy about it, because you swore up and down he couldn’t hold your thick ass up so the contact wasn’t something necessarily new to him. Especially with how his hands automatically flew to your hips.

Gojo never was really the type to be flustered nor be at lost of words, but feeling your plush, soft body against his as you adjust your body on his lap to face him, deemed difficult to mask.

“Y’know if you stopped being so annoying and acting like you are the shit I’d probably would have taken your virginity myself.”

“Oh?” You raise one eyebrow, almost amused with his little smart mouth despite clearly having pink toned cheeks, “Well you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t since you let that piece of shit Toji take it.”

You can hear in his voice it was more than sarcasm, it was genuine animosity and maybe even jealously. When Gojo found out you slept with Toji a year ago he nearly didn’t talk to you for a week.

If only you DID let him take it. It wouldnt have been taken from just some guy you were going to dump 2 months later.

You wanted to thread lightly with him, seeing as you can feel Satoru’s hands around your waist about to lift you up, you sit firmly back on his lap.

Just as you were about to apologize Gojo instead looks away. Pouting like a child while crossing his arms, “You pissed me off again.”

“HELLO? Look Satoru—I am sorry. If I would’ve known you wanted me I—“

“Who said i WANTED you?”

He knew the second your face dropped he fucked up. That wasn’t even the truth he was just upset and was tired of being reminded of your past with Toji. Even though he brought it up.

“Alright.” You begin to rise up from his lap, a bit of pride he had left left his body, and he takes a breath and manages to ignore it for a moment to grab your arm.

“Wait…my bad.”

“Uh huh. Move, Satoru.” You wave him off trying to get up so you don’t bust your ass hopping off his lap. “Go ahead and have sex with anybody you want like you said—“

“Then let’s go.”

His eyes locked on yours, You never really felt as uncertain with Satoru as you do right now. One of his long strong arms still thrown across the couch, staring you down.

Satoru knew exactly what he meant and got dammit he will repeat it if needed be.

“What?”

Gojo huffed in annoyance, picking you up by the butt with one hand. You shrieked a little causing him to squeeze one cheek firmly.

“Your ass is so soft.” He mumbled against your ear, you could almost feel a smirk growing against your skin while he walked you both to your bedroom.

“SATORU?…what are you doing? Where are we going? You clearly said you don’t want me so obviously—oh!”

You sink into the soft mattress and Gojo comes in seconds later to fill the gap between your legs, he somehow looked even bigger when on top.

Gojo really had no initial plan, he did know he hurt your feelings about a clear lie so instead of apologizing with words he’d rather do it with action.

His lips were so soft on your neck, he peppered the entire area of it before finding a spot right below your ear to suckle, earning a choked out whimper from you.

“Sat….Satoru, but you said—“

“I lied.” Was all he could muster up, his voice was lower than usual, “I fucking want you is that so wrong?”

His tone was filled with sarcasm, but you could see it in his eyes he wasn’t joking. He always had a weird way of expressing his feelings to you.

“I mean…that’s only if you want me too. Which obviously you do I mean look at me. You are probably wet—“

“Wanna find out?”

You wanted to chuckle hearing the small choke in Gojo’s voice mid sentence, you give him no room to try and talk back, instead grabbing his left hand and guiding it to the tiny damp spot on your shorts you apply pressure on the tips of his fingers on your clothes clit.

“Shit..” He exhales gritting his teeth, looking down at the lewd sight below him you nip at your bottom lip in satisfaction. It was a new feeling to his finger tips even though he was only feeling the outline of your little clit.

“Well aren’t you a little pervert.” He punctuates his sentence with him taking control of his fingers and doing some temporary small tight circles against you. You hum against his ear trying to tighten your thighs closed, but obviously his hips were in the way of that.

The gap between you both began to slowly close with how much your best friend was leaning into you. Whatever space was left was filled with each others breath. You could almost taste the sweet candy that gojo was previously eating.

“You ganna kiss me now or what?”

Gojo’s fingers didn’t falter. Although you could tell this was his first time rubbing a clit the pressure and speed he had was so painfully good you felt your back arch unto him.

“Oh..” You held your strained moans to come up with a quick witted comeback by chuckling, “So ladies first huh?”

Your mouth softly pressed against his. Damn, he had soft lips. The kiss was timid at first, more on Gojo’s side than yours. You took charge, holding yourself up by the elbows and tilting your head a bit for more access as you spread your legs to give him more access.

Gojo’s fingers slowed down , too excited to finally touch more of you he furrowed him eyebrows while kissing, wanting to rid of the shorts and panties you wore from blocking him to what he really wanted to touch.

He felt impatient but he didn’t want to pull away, you smelled so good, your soft moans being swallowed by him made his SWEATS feel tight, for the first time his mind was all jumbled up and couldn’t figure out a solution.

But since you’re his best friend. A good one that can understand body language you caught on pretty quickly.

You push him back gently with one hand in his chest. A small smack noise pop from his lower lips, “You really want me to take your virginity…?”

You were absolutely prepared to hear him make a snarky line or even roll you over to take charge, but when you cupped his pink cheeks he looked up at you with a unreadable face, “Of course i do.”

It’s like Gojo read your mind, seeing that you almost went “AAWWWWEEE” and eloped him into a wet smooch on the cheek he scoffed to kiss you instead. This time his little experience improved, he held you by the back of the head and licked at your tongue.

His lips became hungrier, lapping you up, and even groaning in between breathes, he’s been waiting for a long time for this.

Gojo trusted you to take his virginity, you were the only one he could see taking it.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

29 / 2.1k / soap soulmate au, part 6

...

Ghost looks up as Soap storms out of the weapons closet.

"Still herself, I take it?" Ghost asks.

"She's a stubborn pain in the ass is what she is."

As expected. Soap misses the dry amusement that crinkles the corners of Ghost's eyes very slightly. "Didn't talk, then," Ghost says.

Soap scowls. "Not a goddamn word we can use. She won't listen to reason. Thinks she can face down an army. Dense, irritating--"

"Strong-willed," Ghost says.

"To a damn fault. Canny see what I'm trying to do for her. I'm-- she's--" Soap can hardly articulate his frustration. He's got this sick feeling in his stomach like he's been kicked in the gut hard enough to make him hurl.

It's not just you being too stubborn to give up the intel. What happens when you’re freed? You’re not going to stick around. What if Graves snaps his fingers and you go right on back to him?

Soap lets out a rough sigh. "There's more than Graves keeping her from talking. I don't like it."

"You've got a plan?" Ghost guesses.

Soap nods. "Aye. I need to talk to Laswell--"

"Done." Ghost produces a beige folder and drops it into Soap's hands. "Had her look into it for you."

"I'll be damned." Soap flips through the pages in the folder. "Christ. Bloody thin file." He fans the pages inside like a flipbook as if checking for extra pages. "Where's the rest of it?"

"Not much there to dig up."

"Then she's gotta be missin' some--" Something catches Soap's eye as he skims through, and he pauses, lingering on a photo.

Hell's fuckin' bells.

"Think that'll help?" Ghost asks.

"I'd wager so."

"Good. You goin' back in?"

"Aye.” Soap folds the file into his jacket and gives Ghost a good-natured fist bump to the arm. Then he brushes past him, knocking into his shoulder.

Ghost grabs Soap’s arm again before he slips past. "We don't have much time. Price wants to move on Alejandro. Says if you can't get the intel, we go in blind. Rodolfo leads."

Soap sets his jaw. "How long?"

"Three hours. Tops." He claps a firm hand on Soap's shoulder and turns to leave. "Get some sleep."

…

A moment later, the metal grate door slides open. You straighten back up and steel yourself again.

There's something different about the way Soap carries himself this time. He's not wound as tightly. But the way his eyes settle on you is... odd. The shift in his expression puts you on edge.

He sits down across from you. "We've not got much time. If talking gets us nowhere, we'll try something else."

You lean back, mirroring his posture. "You gonna torture me?”

“That what you’re expecting?”

“Maybe. You ever tortured someone before?"

"Aye. Can't say I care for it, but I know how if that's what this takes." He examines you again with that sharp gaze. You don't feel like he's undressing you with his eyes anymore. It's more like he's searching for something. "Why ask? You want me to put my hands on ya?"

You ignore the mental image that imprints. "I want you to waste your time."

Soap smirks. "What I wouldn't give to let you waste my time. You, me, all this animosity between us... I've got a few negotiation techniques I'd very much like to try." He leans back into the chair, his hands folded in his lap with an easy grin. "But you're no' the type to break under pressure."

"Better men than you have tried."

"Tried torturing you?" His grin tightens just slightly. "Anyone I know? Names, locations?"

Your cheeks heat up again. At that, for some reason. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can."

He produces the thin file and tosses it onto the table between you.

You look down at the papers that slide out. They're grainy and covered in redactions as if printed and bound, pulled from the deep end of some filing cabinet, scanned, rescanned, and printed again. But you glimpse your name. Your real name--the one printed on Johnny's skin, too. Your chest twists and your stomach sinks.

Soap sees the change in you and leans forward, elbows wide. He opens the file and pushes it across the table. "I'll do anything to protect you, darlin'," he says. "But I need information."

The file is everything you don't want anyone to know. But what catches your eye is that photograph. "Who else has seen this?"

"Me and Laswell. Maybe Ghost if he was feelin' nosy. Does Graves know?"

You pull on your cuffs, wanting to reach for the pages and push them away. "Captain Graves said he'd make this disappear."

Soap leans back, broad palm sliding out to touch the edge of the pages, and his expression softens for a moment. "Some things you can’t make disappear."

You look at him, twisted up with pain and anger. "So, what, if I don't talk, you're threatening to expose all this? Is that it? It won't work," you add with false confidence. "Captain Graves knows everything."

"What I want to know," Soap says, voice quiet, "is what he did with it."

"What?"

Soap leans forward again. "Did he threaten you? Did he say he’d make this go away if you worked for him, hold it over your head?"

"No!” you snap. “After this happened, I couldn't-- I was discharged from the military. I couldn't find work. He reached out to me. Said he didn’t mind if I had… history. Then he offered to have it scrubbed if I wanted.” You stare down at the papers. “He never threatened me. He helped me."

Soap lets out a breath. He was prepared to deal with something a lot worse than that. Maybe he hoped for something worse. If Graves were blackmailing you, the solution would be easy. He'd give you protection, offer to have Laswell erase that file from existence instead, CIA-style. After all, if Graves got his claws into you and onto his payroll that way, why couldn't he? Probably got you dirt fucking cheap, too. Bastard.

Part of Soap wants to press that angle. He could tell you Graves never intended to deliver on his side of the deal. But the truth is that Graves would've had little control over this. Seeing the state of the file, Graves likely did what he could to have it redacted, sealed, destroyed--but someone over his head intervened. Shepherd, maybe. There'd be nothing Graves could do.

Soap wants you more than anything, but the pain in your eyes when you look at these documents tears him up inside. He can’t manipulate you that way. Even if he got you to himself in the end, he'd never forgive himself.

"That's... that's good. He protected you." Soap crosses his arms, squeezing his fist hard around the object inside, the one he pickpocketed off Ghost a few minutes ago. Much as he hates Graves, the man kept you safe. But that's his job now.

"I don't care who you tell," you snap, suddenly full of anger and spitting fire. The sight of those pages puts you on edge. You feel like a cornered animal. "I'm not telling you a goddamn thing. Do whatever you want to me. You're no better than--"

"Am no' blackmailin' ya." Soap's expression sours. So much venom in that mouth of yours. He runs his thumb over his tightened knuckles to suppress his own temper. He's amazed at how easy it is for you to get under his skin, how you push all these buttons when he's the one who's supposed to be pulling the strings.

But he realizes how this must seem. You act tough, but you're vulnerable, exposed, and he has every reason right now to drive the knife in and twist it hard. Maybe he should. Going into the Las Almas base blind means danger for his squadmates.

Christ, he’s tired. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Darlin’, I... I know now you've done things you're not proud of. But that doesn't change anything. Not to me, not to Ghost-- hell, none of us would bat an eye. You don’t need to protect yourself anymore. I need you to talk to me. We're out of time."

He thinks this is about you protecting yourself? You shake your head. "If you’re storming the Las Almas base, you're going up against Shadows. You're asking me to help you kill my own."

"If that matters to you, then tell me how to get to Alejandro without alerting the guards. Nobody has to get hurt."

You scoff, looking away. "There's no way to do that and you know it."

"We don't have to shoot them if they stand down first."

"That's not going to happen. They'll shoot you on sight. It'll be a bloodbath."

"Not for us."

You close your eyes. "I know. That's what I'm worried about."

Soap lets out a frustrated breath. "We're going in whether you talk or not. The blood's on our hands. Not yours."

You keep your gaze angled away, clearly not believing that. "I don't see why you care about security. I don't see why you need intel at all. This is what you're good at, right? This is what 141 does. You break in doors, you kill people."

Soap grips the edge of the table. "The only thing gettin' you out of here is information. I don't care what it is or if it's useful. Price wants intel."

"I don't have it." Your voice is flat and cold. Whatever you can do to make him understand you're not worth the effort.

He leans in and grabs your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. "Then lie to me."

"What?" You stare at him, feeling pinned under that intense gaze. "Are you fucking insane?"

"Might be," A small, sly, half-smile curves his lips. "I'm also desperate, runnin' out of time, and at the end of my rope after starin' at you this long, knowin' I can't have you." He runs his thumb along your cheek. "Maybe I'm bankin' on you losin' your mind before I do."

You swallow. "You'll be waiting awhile."

He smirks. His thumb moves from your cheek to your chin, fingers trailing down the side of your neck. "Do you think you're a good liar?"

Before you can answer, someone bangs on the metal door, rattling it. Price's voice echoes in from outside.

"Get some sleep, Soap," he calls. "We're briefing soon. Give it a rest. We’ll press her for more intel after we’ve got Alejandro back.”

Soap tenses at the sound of Price's voice. "Wasn't planning on sleepin'," he calls back.

"Wasn't a question," Price calls back. You hear him walk away.

Soap withdraws his hand, letting out a soft curse.

"Why would you give your own Captain false information?" you hiss. "You could lose your job. You could get court-martialed. Even if it worked, what if Shepherd finds out? He's still in your chain of command."

"Guess that's a risk I gotta take."

"Then what if I tell you something that gets your teammates hurt, huh?"

"Won't happen. I'll be in the front when things get risky."

"Then how do you expect me to-- if it means you're the one who's--" You huff, words failing you. "You're so goddamn thick."

"Am I? Because here I am, tryin' to make plans and get a read on you, and all you wanna do is piss me off and run your mouth. I'm learnin' a lot." He tilts his head. "In fact, it's startin' to sound like you're worried about me."

"Absolutely not."

"Could always tell me the truth. Extra insurance if you do. Maybe it’ll keep me alive."

"You don't need it," you snap.

"I think I do." He leans in, crossing his legs and folding his arms. "Got a bad feeling about this one. No Shadow worth their salt wouldn’t send us straight to hell if it meant finishing the job. Especially Graves."

You feel another pang of dread in your gut. He's right.

He watches you for another long moment. Neither of you speak.

Finally, he stands, sighing deeply as he goes to the door. "Alright."

"Are you coming back?" The words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them.

He pauses in the doorway. Then he turns back, staring at you like there's something he wants to say. He looks down at the stolen object still clutched in his hand--the key to your cuffs.

He opens the door, slipping through without another word.

...

← previous part / [part 6] / next part →

more Soap / masterlist tag

[lesbikaiser]

Hellooo :3

could you write how Lorenzo and Barou would react to if reader sent them nudes, please?

hii <3 ofc i can! im so sorry for taking so long :( idk how exactly to write reactions but i hope you like it!

proofread but you never know, so im sorry if there's any errors!

don lorenzo

lorenzo feels like drool might start leaking from his mouth. there's no way he isn't spotting a hard-on right now, he knows that. all thanks to the notification popping on his screen just when he got his break, his intention being only checking his phone to see if you left any texts and oh, sure you did.

"been missing you... [02:38 PM]"

'"come back soon <3 [02:46 PM]"

the first one was sent a few minutes before his break, he could even hear your whiny voice actually saying it, and just from this one message alone, he would be beaming for the rest of his practice while thinking about you.

well, that's until he noticed the image attached to the second one.

surely he'll be thinking about you for the rest of the day after seeing it. the one that made him click on your chat, the one that got lips curving into a smirk, the one that got the boner on his shorts.

it's a picture of you. your body lays on your shared bed, breasts free of any bra with your nipples perked up, one of your hands holding your phone up to your face while the other disappears inside the lacy panties adorning your hips, hinting what you've probably been done for the past minutes.

it's a mirror picture. the same mirror he got on the ceiling of your bedroom, specifically above your bed because he wanted you to watch when he fucks you in missionary.

he's totally making that picture his lockscreen. because he's just this kind of freak.

and he's totally excusing himself to the locker room to enjoy his break, fingers quickly moving to text back a response.

"keep cumming till you can't anymore [02:50 PM]"

"ya better be nice and wet for me when i get home [02:51 PM]"

oh, and he's 100% snapping a few pictures of his hand covered in his cum and sending it to you when he's done.

shoei barou

shoei barou can't believe his eyes. he thinks you might've gone insane at this point.

he knew it would come back to bite him in the ass sooner or later, to date such a nasty person like you... but what could he do? he loved you after all.

even when you decided to give him a boner in the middle of his cleaning.

he couldn't help but worry a little when his phone rang non-stop, the exclusive sound he gave your number so he would know it was you just from hearing it, indicating you'd sent him a few texts. and as much as cleaning was sacred to him, you were way more important than the dishes he was doing.

oh, what a right regretful choice.

"shoeeeeei [04:28 PM]"

"miss u sososo muchhhh [04:28 PM]"

"wanna be with youuuu [04:29 PM]"

unlocking his phone, the first messages got him to calm down, at least he knew that you were safe. he smiled to himself, reading through your sweet texts. he really thought nothing of it at first, he was used to your clinginess – especially when you had to go to work –, that was probably just you being your lovely self.

that's until he scrolled down and saw the image attached to your chat.

it was a picture of you. probably hidden in the restroom, your face is off the screen, just lips and chin showing but surely not the most eye-catching element in the pic.

his gaze is unconsciously attracted to your uniform, with enough buttons open to show your cleavage and the red, lacy bra framing your breasts, he can't deny his dick twitches at the sight. like a cherry atop the cake, a necklace hangs from your neck with a 'B' pendant resting right in the middle of your tits, a faint bruise on your skin thanks to the hickey he gave you a while ago.

he reads the caption.

"yk, it's soooo hot today [04:32 PM]"

"can't wait to be home and get rid of these clothes >.< [04:33 PM]"

he's too stunned to even think of responding, eyes bulging as he stares at his screen perplexed. he can feel his dick straining against his shorts, breath heavy as lust washes over him, heat creeping up his neck and reaching his cheeks the longer he looks at the picture.

it's your next message that takes him out of his trance, his heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing through his veins, eagerness getting the best of him when he places his hand over his bulge, squeezing it slightly as he reads your text.

"hopefully i'll be home soon [04:35 PM]"

"so wait for me my love <3 [04:35 PM]"

he's looking forward to it.

[httpsserene]

can you do Franco Colapinto established relationship prompt 29??? Love your writing!!!

🛞  tread’s uneven: time for a tire rotation! — send me a driver and a prompt from this list of pre-relationship prompts, or these established relationship prompts, or these hurt/comfort prompts, and i’ll write a blurb or drabble for you xxx (prompt lists are made by me!)

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. didn't realize there were so many franco stans on this app...don't worry, i understand it now ;) happy 3k 🩷 babe !!! thank you for requesting xxx

⌕ 3k v-day celly nav | all 3k requests | main nav | table of contents ↻

#𝟐𝟗. "stop staring at my ass, please." fem!bipoc!reader x franco colapinto

One thing you’re going to do after a trip to the mall is perform a runway show when you get back home.

As soon as you step through the doorway, Franco is rushing to grab the bags from your arms, because while he may have not been able to accompany you on your shopping spree, he’s going to resume his chivalrous boyfriend activities when you’re back with him. He always roots around in the bags to see what you’ve bought as the two of you head toward the bedroom, it’s routine for him to make predictions about what pieces of clothing he’s going to like on you the most.

Your fashion show starts with making him cover his eyes as you change—so you don’t spoil the pieces you're putting together before you complete the total outfit, not because you are concerned with him seeing you undress; you’re well past that point. 

After catching him peeking between his fingers three times, you’re forced to change in the bathroom because your boyfriend is never going to turn down a chance to admire you. 

Those are his words, not yours! You can read between the lines, knowing that he really means that he’s not going to miss a chance to ogle at the sight of you in your undergarments.

He also doesn’t miss a single opportunity to drool over you if you’re fully clothed.

You can see the way his attention is glued to the spread of your hips in the best-fitting pair of jeans you’ve ever worn, and as you turn around to examine the full outfit you’ve put together in the mirror, you can see how he doesn’t even attempt to hide his (admittedly flattering) smirk when he sees how great your ass looks. 

There’s something about wearing a white tank top with a pair of light-wash jeans and heels that makes you feel like the hottest woman on Earth. 

Bending down to fasten the straps of your heels, you glance at the reflection of Franco in the mirror. His mouth has dropped open, and his hands twitch at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to reach out and touch.

Straightening up, you spin around to stare at him with an unimpressed tilt to your lips, your hands resting on your hips as you feign annoyance, “Stop staring at my ass, please.”

Franco pouts, not hiding the way he leans to the side to look around your body to stare at your ass in the mirror.

“Babe!” You yelp, the brown skin of your cheeks heating with a blush at his over-attention. 

The Argentinian man eventually manages to wrangle himself into meeting your eyes after he’s happy with the amount of time he’s spent appreciating your figure. He offers you a picture-perfect grin, his fingers hooking into the belt loops of your jeans to tug you between his legs.

“¿¡Que!? You chose these jeans because you know how good they make your ass look—How can you be mad at me for staring?!”

© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos in header from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[dissvicious]

Alone in Wano - 1 / 2

A/N: it's been an eternity since I posted a fanfic here & I deleted the last one I posted here because I was too self conscious so words can't fathom how much I'm nervous right now lmao. No much content warnings but contain Wano spoilers, canon violence & also apparently it makes people cry. thanks @a-killer-obsession for beta reading, & @wyvernslovecake for letting me play dolls with Shriek ♥

Part 2

One month.

29 days.

690 hours or so.

Nina sighed, grunting as the baby kicks in her belly kept her from sleeping. She tried to change position in the uncomfortable futon discarded on the ground, to relieve the pressure her womb was applying on her guts - without any effect. She closed her eyes, and, as usual, images of what happened flashed in front of her eyes. Kaido falling in the ground at Ozzy’s birthday party, Kid refusing to submit, the beast pirates destroying the castle and locking everyone in the jails of their ships, sending them to Wano. Quincy, Heat, Wire, Hip, Papas…Thanks to gods, she didn’t see Shriek in the cramped cells. She must have locked herself in her room, just like Nina asked. She silently prayed for her safety and rolled on her back again, looking at the ceiling.

She hadn’t felt this lonely for a long time. Not since she joined the Kid pirates, in fact. She almost managed to believe that life was going to be ok, she almost touched that peace from the tip of her fingers, but Kaido took everything away from her. Nina rubbed her eyes, trying to chase the tears that threatened to flow on her cheeks. One month without Killer tenderly spooning her in her sleep. 29 days without Kid playfully grabbing her ass while passing by in the morning. 690 hours, or so, without passing her fingers through the soft fur of Shriek to untangle it.

"MAMAAAAAAA"

Ozzy’s tears took her out of her reverie. She sat up in the futon, and took the toddler on her lap, before opening her kimono to allow him to latch on her breast and take some milk. She passed her hand through her son’s pink hair, looking down at him tenderly. At least, Kaido didn’t separate them. She was so scared at first, when he discarded them to Orochi, saying that a pregnant chick and a toddler was no use for him. Nina wasn’t strong, she didn’t have any power, she didn’t have haki, and without her chainsaw, the only thing she could do to protect her heir would have been to run and sink her teeth into whatever neck presented to her. Thankfully, Komurasaki seemed to have pity for them and asked Orochi to keep her and Ozzy in her court, which Orochi accepted. Not that he seemed to be able to refuse anything to Komurasaki, though. Nina and Komurasaki immediately understood each other on this - Nina, too, had to pretend to like men for her safety in the past. And staying near the shogun, she could maybe learn a thing or two about Kid or Killer’s fate. Ozzy finished eating and she hugged him tight, seeking comfort in the scent of his hair. God, she missed her lovers so much. Ever since he helped her sober up, she had never been separated from Killer for this long. And as much as it cost her to admit, she missed Kid just as much. After years of being used and tossed away, she finally had a home, a family. She just wanted them back.

Loud screams coming from Orochi's banquet dragged her out of her spiraling. She put back her breast in her kimono and held Ozzy close to her chest, mother instinct going full mode as a little girl with a big grin and pink hair ran to her, crying, holding her close as to seek reassurance in her arms.

“Toko… ?” 

Nina bent down and managed with some effort to take Toko under the arm that wasn’t holding Ozzy, finding, by some miracle, space for the little girl, the toddler, and her big round belly.

“Toko… what happened?” 

Toko looked up at her, unable to answer, her breath cut by a burst of laughter. Nina bit her lip to restrain any reaction that could hurt the girl’s sensibility. Even if Komurasaki explained to her the whole shit about SMILE and its effects, she still needed to process that Toko could have a big grin or laugh, but still be sad, angry or scared. One thing for sure, the more she learned about Kaido, the more she wanted him dead.

As she was about to question Toko again, Komurasaki and Kyoshiro barged in the room. Nina's eyes went wide open and she stood up as she saw the blood on Komurasaki's clothes.

“The hell?” she asked. 

Komurasaki seemed to do great, though, and she walked in with a hurry to take Toko in her arms after changing into a discreet, more modest robe than her usual attire and throwing her jewelry on the ground. Nina turned an inquisitive glance to Kyoshiro who frowned at her.

“No time to explain. All of you need to leave the castle.”

“But…”

“NOW!” 

Nina frowned, sensing the urge in Kyoshiro’s voice. She nodded and, holding Ozzy close to her chest, she followed Komurasaki and Toko through a secret escape.

One month.

31 days.

738 hours or so. 

Nina’s eyes didn’t leave the hearth, fire crackling and flames casting a warm light through the little wood shed. Toko was sleeping peacefully next to her, holding Ozzy against her, her permanent grin not leaving her face. Nina looked up at the green haired  woman sitting across her, a protective hand on her belly.

“So what do I have to call you now?” Nina asked. 

“Hiyori.”

Nina studied her face. When they arrived at the secret hideout, Hiyori explained everything to her. How she was actually Oden’s daughter. How she was born on the Oro Jackson, a long time ago. How she had to watch her little brother jump forward in the future thanks to some time travel devil fruit, while her mother was dying in the flames. How a plan to take down Orochi and Kaido was in place, silently building in the shadows for the past 26 years. Once again, Nina met her eyes and a silent comprehension passed between the two women. They both experienced what true loneliness was, they both saw the ugliest face of men. At this exact moment, Nina understood why Hiyori took care of her. Seeing her alone with her baby, pregnant with the second, must have reminded her of her own family. 

“That’s not everything.” Hiyori said, a serious glance on her face. She bent aside and grabbed a newspaper on the ground before giving it to Nina.

Nina frowned and took the journal, and her eyes went wide in shock as she read. The news was about a pirate captain sent to Udon jail, and even if the picture below was only an ink drawing, she couldn’t help the tears flooding down her cheeks when she recognized Kid.

“I need to go there.”

“Nina…” Hiyori started to sigh, but Nina cut her off.

“No, you don’t understand!” 

She looked at Ozzy, still peacefully asleep in Toko’s arms, occasionally twitching in his sleep.

“His father… Ozzy’s father. One of them. He’s maybe there, I can’t-”

“Nina.”

Hiyori's tone was stern now, and Nina sighed, knowing already where the conversation was landing. Since Hiyori saved her, they had it on a daily basis. Nina sat down, putting a hand on her belly.

“I know, I know. I’m pregnant. I have to be careful.” 

Hiyori smiled softly, looking up at her with her big, soft eyes, and Nina smiled back. Both women looked at the fire in silence for a moment.

“I hope they’re doing fine.” Nina whispered, caressing her belly softly, where her little one was giving high kicks again. “I can’t live without them.” She cursed herself mentally for being so sappy. 

When did she become so sensitive? After the whole Perona disaster, she thought she was done with romantic bullshit. She was a tough girl, picking up fights in bars and sailing alone, surviving out of thieving and brawlings. She sailed for months, years maybe even, alone, and she held herself alone, even if she had to rely on drugs or sell her body to keep on going. But destiny made her cross paths with Kid pirates, and Killer saved her, and she allowed herself to fall in love again, and then she fell for Kid as well, and the crew adopted her, and she adopted them. And then there were the children, and soon she was surrounded by more tenderness and affection than she could handle. She wiped her tears. Fucking mood swings.

Hiyori seemed to notice her demeanor change, because she moved ever so slightly to wrap an arm around her shoulders, slowly comforting her.

“They’re alive. I would have heard of it if they were dead,” She whispered. Nina nodded, nuzzling against Hiyori's shoulder, closing her eyes.

“I hope so.”

Nina woke up the next morning, snuggled against Hiyori. She sighed in relief. It was good to feel the warmth of another human being again - well, an adult one. With regret, she withdrew herself from the green haired woman's embrace. She stood up and took Ozzy in her arms, cradling him tenderly. Behind her, the fire was dying slowly. It was cold outside, they would need to light another one, and there was no more dry wood left. She wrapped Ozzy in his carrier and tied it on her back. Hiyori would scold her for not resting but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to feel like a burden. She didn't want to feel useless. Hiyori had saved their life, the least she could do was to ensure her a warm room to wake up in. She walked out of the small cabin and closed the door behind her.

Nina was out in the snow, gathering some dry wood, when a deafening scream pierced the ambient silence. She jolted her head as she recognized Hiyori's voice. Without thinking, she put Ozzy in safety next to the wood carrier, wrapping her vest around him to keep him warm and safe, and ran to Hiyori as fast as her round belly allowed her to. 

Her mind went blank at the scene she was witnessing. 

Hiyori was hidden behind a green haired samurai who looked a bit like the mugiwara sword guy… Roronoa? She was shaking, terrified, holding Toko close in her arms. And in front of them…

This laugh. 

This blonde mane. 

Those icy blue eyes. 

Nina eyes went wide and without thinking, she ran to them as Roronoa was about to attack.

“NO!!”

She yelled, throwing herself between Roronoa and his opponent. Hiyori screamed, but Nina couldn’t care less, her focus on the laughing figure in front of her. Tears perked at the corners of their eyes and she took a few steps forward. At this moment, Roronoa didn’t exist anymore, Hiyori didn’t exist anymore, even Ozzy was far away in her mind. The only thing that mattered for her were those beautiful icy blue eyes piercing through the bandages. So soft. So familiar. The eyes that looked at her with adoration every morning and always managed to make her feel safe.

 She took a few steps forwards, wiping her eyes with a relieved chuckle.

“Killer? My lion?”

The blonde looked down at her, a grin plastered on his face. Killer didn’t usually grin without his mask, but after a month without seeing each other, he was probably happy to see her too. She took another step forward, still chuckling in relief. Killer looked down at her, immobile. She looked up at him with pure adoration and sobbed. 

“Killer, I'm so…” 

She froze when he suddenly arched back, letting out a loud burst of laughter. He laughed. Loudly. Killer laughed. In front of perfect strangers. In front of an opponent. 

Puzzled and worried, she held a hand to caress his cheek, an attempted comforting gesture, but before she could touch his skin, she was violently thrown in the snow, kicked in her belly by the wood of his scythes. She felt an intense pain bowing her in half, then, nothing. 

The last thing she saw before passing out was Killer's frame passing by her side as if she was nothing but an insect he brushed off his shoulder. The last thing she heard was his laugh fading in the distance, and then everything went black.

[hypernova-writes]

Kinktober Day 29

[Double Penetration - Scout/Sniper]

"You're such a cutie when you're all whiny like this babe."

"Such a slut..taking both of us at once, 'roo."

"Ya doing so so good babe.."

Scout was laying on your bed, you were on top of him, your back was against you as his cock was nestled in your ass. You could feel it twitch as he was just waiting to move.

Sniper walks up, getting between your legs with a smirk on his face. "Mhm..you look so needy 'roo. You'll be able to take us easily.."

You blushed as Sniper readied himself, his cock laying against her inner thigh. You whines as she watches as he presses against your entrance before pushing in, slowly until he was buried to the Hilt.

You gasp out as the two of them were now deep and nestled inside of you, you squirmed as you wanted them to finally move.

"Mick..Jer..please.."

"Hmm?..what's that dollface?"

"I think our little Sheila wants us to move.."

Sniper starts moving first, slow thrusts that's were deep and in a rhythm. You gasp as Scout starting moving too.

You whimper as you lean your head back against Scout as they started to move in sync. You squirmed as it felt good, they were groaning as they had you sandwiched between the two of them.

"Don't she feel so good Scout?.."

You whine as you feel Scout's hands trail up to feel your breasts, playing with your nipples as he continues his motions.

"Mhm, fuck yea she does, our cutie all for us.."

"Mhm..skeep moanin' louder fa us 'roo."

Sniper leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth before backing away to admire the way your face would contort and how you tried not to get too loud.

Sniper looks at Scout past your head before smirking, you glare at him before they suddenly picked up their pace, making you nearly scream out, Scout held your arms, preventing you from covering your mouth.

"Nah dollface..we want da base to hear how good ya sound when ya moaning for your boyfriends."

"We're not stopping til ya leakin' from our cum sheila.."

[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 28: Fingertips To Flesh

Content warning: Violence, murder, vomiting, blood, angst, light body horror (?).

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Slow Decline - Elsiane We Are Shadows - Kittie Changelings - Gazelle Twins

Chapter 27 | Chapter 29

Your ability has always come with its flaws. It’s not just that you hate using it or the sick aftermath it leaves behind, but that it requires closeness—skin-to-skin contact, your fingertips pressed against something alive—for it to work.

It’s a disturbingly intimate way to kill.

And now, it seems, you may have no choice but to use it once more.  

Each sedate step the armed Kasai takes toward you sends your mind spiralling for a plan—a way to slip past him, find your father, and end this before he flees.

But because of the cool weather, the approaching figure is well-covered, leaving only his hands, neck, and face exposed. You’ll need to close the distance without arousing suspicion and without giving him the chance to draw his weapon.

Charming him is out of the question—you’re sopping wet in blood, garment-tattered. You’re certain pieces of someone’s skin are tangled in your hair from your husband’s brutality. So, playing the damsel is your only option. You just hope Sukuna was being an ass when he said you’re a terrible liar—because you’re going to need one hell of a performance.

Sweat licking its way down your palms, you’re surprised when your gloves peel away smoothly. You tuck them into the back of your obi before letting your shoulders fall inward. With the man already halfway down the empty corridor, you take a breath.

Inhale.

At least being a woman, you can lean into everyone’s perceived helplessness of you.

Exhale.

“Please!” You stumble forward, pitching your voice higher to sound desperate. “You have to help me! The King of Curses, he’s—he’s killing everyone down in the main hall.” A hitch in your breath. A glance over your shoulder. "He’ll come for me next."

The smile on the man’s face reams up into a sneer, and he stops walking to take you in. His eyes carefully drag to your bare feet and then to the tattered hem of your garment before he laughs.

“And his wife, barefoot and blood-soaked, escapes without so much as a scratch on her skin? You must think I’m stupid?” He cocks an eyebrow before he continues walking, that one hand on the hilt of his weapon tightening.

Your mouth dries out.

Shit. 

Not the reaction you’d hoped for.

Stay calm. Keep going.

You take another staggering step and raise a hand to touch your chest to appear docile. Not a threat.

“I—”

Below, in your lowered vision, you catch on your fingers. Discoloured veins creeping from the fingertips to the knuckles just like they were last night in the rocky overhang. But you shove the worry aside, hoping the blood smeared all over you hides the unnatural hue.

Another step forward.

“I admit, I was lucky to escape,” you say, forcing a pathetic wobble into the words. “But I’m afraid for my life. He’ll come for me.”

Hopefully not.

“Please.”

Two more steps.

Closer.

Another.

You stop just within range—close enough that he could unsheathe and strike with his katana if he wanted to.

Then, suddenly, you can’t think.

Soft vibrations, followed by stronger tremors, roll along the floor and travel into the soles of your feet. There’s a surge of dark energy, his energy, a distant swell and then a dull boom that makes your whole body shudder.

For a moment, feeling it even this far away gives you comfort but is quickly chased down by a searing ache inside your chest.

When did it start to feel this way? This longing. It hurts. Too much.

Forget him.

Clinging to what could have been will only bring heartache. This is the right choice. Leaving Sukuna was the right choice. Because beyond this cage, these shitty walls, and his shrine is liberation and a life with your sister. Her promise to take care of you—something you’ve had little of and yearned for.

You cut your eyes to your shoulder as strong, unwelcoming fingers grasp around their curve, and the distant sounds of fighting are swallowed into the background.

“Fine. This way,” the Kasai grunts, his hand leaving his weapon only to drag you back down the corridor from where you came from. Not what you wanted.

“Shouldn’t we be going the other way?” You bite down on your tongue when your voice doesn’t sound as fragile as it should.

His eyes dart down to your face, letting them wander before his grip turns choking, making you wince.

“You’re safe with me,” he smirks, teeth and gums flashing while he drags you along.

Liar.

You get the feeling you’re not, and at this angle, your reach is off, no skin to tamper with.

Mind scrambling for a new plan. You remember your blade hidden inside your obi. If you can stab him, there’s a chance you can get away without needing to use your gift.

Maintaining pace with his long strides, you discreetly shift your hand to your sash, angling the sheath just enough to grant you better access while keeping it out of his line of sight. Your fingers slip inside, brushing over the hilt. Feeling the engraved markings, you steady yourself. Slowly, carefully, you begin to slide it free.

The man’s gaze remains fixed ahead, though his eyes flick to the side whenever the walls creak and groan under the constant rising pressure of Sukuna’s energy.

He’s distracted.

Now’s your chance.

Do what needs to be done.

Blade in hand, jaw set, you swing the weapon toward his abdomen and lunge.

The metal punches in. It disappears into fabric, through flesh, and sinks deep between the bones of his rib cage until the hilt meets resistance. Blood coaxes over your hand, and more splashes free when he frantically turns, releasing your shoulder and accidentally tearing open the wound.

“What the fuck?!” The man’s shriek contains such fury it feels like it punctures your skull.

Yanking the tantō free, you step back on trembling feet, pivot, and run in the opposite direction.

“You traitorous little bitch!” he roars from behind, voice rattling along the corridor. “Get back here!”

You don’t look back. You can’t. You keep running.

The blaze inside the floor lanterns dance and bend as you race past, your arms pumping wildly, breath tripping into the next.

You’re fine. Keep going.

Plunging down the vacant passage and nearing the corner, you’re nearly at the turn when another armed Kasai steps into your path.

Shit.

His brow furrows softly as he sees you coming, his eyes scanning your dishevelled form, landing on the bloody blade clutched in your palm. You realize he looks younger but bears a resemblance to the man you just stabbed.

“What’s happen—”

“Please!” you interrupt, stopping in front of him. You lower your weapon in a placating manner, though the tremble in your fingers is real. “You have to help me! The King of Cur—”

“Brother! Don’t listen to her!” Staggering footsteps thud close behind. “The lying cunt just stuck a blade in me!”

Your attention shoots to the younger man, eyes catching on his face as it flips through a wave of emotions—sympathy, regret, apathy… anger.

Anger.

A sibling’s anger. Lots of it.

You understand it too well.

A need to protect.

Before you can react, he moves, and his fist crashes into the side of your face.

You let out a cry of pain as firm knuckles crack into your cheekbone with enough force to send black spots spilling into your vision.

With a strangled cough, your hand slips, and you drop the blade to the floor, the clattering of it mingling with your gasping breaths.

“Don’t drop your weapon. It’s your lifeline. Without it, you have nothing—you’re dead.”

Uraume’s words tiptoe into your mind.

Agony pushes through your face as you drop low, crouching and blindly groping for the hilt.

But before you can grab it, his foot connects, kicking it out of reach.

The metallic rasp of a katana being drawn follows, cutting into the air. Then, the creaking of the floor as he shifts into a killing stance.

You tilt your head back, looking up at him.

But his hands tremble, hesitating—like yours once did with Sayuri.

This is your chance.

Do it.

Now.

You have to. You need to. Because if you don’t, you’ll die here.

It’s either you or him.

Him or me.

No. 

What did she say?

Everyone.

You roll your eyes forcefully upward and reach inward, clawing for the power you despise. It feels distant, like trying to grasp something buried in thick mud.

So much untapped potential lodged so deep within you.

But then, your grip catches. You pull it closer, feeling energy hum at your fingertips.

A dull recognition crosses the man’s face, and he starts to bring down the weapon.

Do it!

In a burst of speed, you dive forward, fingertips targeting the soft, exposed flesh at his throat where the panels of his kimono overlap.

The world shrinks to a single point.

Somewhere in the background, the injured brother shouts a warning, but it barely registers. For once, everything has gone so perfectly quiet inside your mind. All that matters is your hand stretching, reaching closer.

Closer. 

Closer…

Then, contact.

All that raw, solitary power, and it’s yours.

The weapon’s descent halts.

The man freezes, standing so still, it feels as if the world has paused. He blinks down at you, your bodies close, both locked in place.

Your eyes meet.

His face crumples in confusion.

“I’m sorry…” you whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

And finally, you release it.

There’s a pulse. Skin ripples. You pull back.

His katana clatters to the floor, and his hands tremble before clawing desperately at the spot you touched.

But it’s too late.

The skin darkens, turning mottled grey from the point of contact, spreading like an old stain.

He falls, knees buckling into the floor.

You know what’s happening below the surface—his insides rebelling, twisting, succumbing to rot. The stench of it already chokes the air sour.

His body starts to bloat as swollen innards fight to break free. You step back, your stomach rioting, fully aware of what’s about to happen.

The worst part of it.

The sick part of it.

The rotten part of it.

Something cracks inside. Bones. He screams. Loud and frightened.

At that moment, you think of your mother.

Shame crashes into you, and you turn your head away at the last second. The sound giving you a vivid image of his body rupturing, fluids spilling onto the floor. A hiss of air and the horrible warmth trickling into the passage tell you the body has torn open.

Breath held, it falls silent—until you hear the other brother’s wet, howling cry.

You turn to face him and see everything. His hurt, his agony, the anguish of what you’ve done.

What I did.

His expression grows darker, and tears brighten his eyes, but they don’t fall.

“You fucking witch!” Snarling and spitting, he turns his gaze from his sibling’s broken carcass to you.

He advances, teeth bared, and you scramble backward.

“I’LL KILL YOU!”

His weapon is out, and he’s on you immediately, the blade arching down toward the floor.

You dodge, only saved by the stab wound you inflicted earlier. It slows him, making his movements sluggish. As he pulls back the katana, it takes him a moment to recover—but a moment is all you need.

Stepping close, you slip your palm up, cupping his face.

It really is a disturbingly intimate way to kill.

And this time, as you watch the slow, putrid decay trace across his features, your lips shape the word “sorry,” but no further apology comes.

* * * * *

Out in the garden, the cool night air touches the warm sweat and dried blood clinging to your body, the sticky stench of rot still lingering in your nostrils. For a moment, there’s relief—but it doesn’t last.

Where the hell are you?

Heart pounding, you sprint down the stony path, your weapon tucked back into your obi, gloves still stripped off.

There’s no sign of him—your slinking, cowardly bastard of a father. Nowhere to be seen on the compound grounds. The passage you took should have cut him off unless he’s already reached the stables. But he couldn’t be that fast.

Unless…

You stop.

Unless you’re hiding.

Just as you once did when you were younger, hiding whenever he came for you. But why would he hide now? Unless he’s afraid. Afraid of what you’ve unleashed upon this place. Or perhaps he’s running from something deeper—his own regrets. Regrets over how he’s treated you, your sister, and even your mother, like nothing more than cattle.

You hope he’s hiding. There’s something satisfyingly sweet about that idea.

A breeze rolls over you. You look up. Let your eyes sweep across the area, scanning the mounds of shrubs. Their squat, plump forms make it easy to hide against the darkness.

You take a step forward, bare feet tapping against stone.

But you pause when you hear it coming from behind—footsteps.

Rushing. Urgent.

They melt into the ongoing fight at your back, the rolling booms of explosive energy.

You turn, but it’s too late.

A sharp blow lands on the back of your head. The ground rushes up to meet you. Your hands claw frantically at the air, grasping for something but finding nothing.

Knees slamming into the rigid path, pain shoots through your legs. You try to get up, but before you can react, a kick to your stomach folds you inward. The cold, hard ground presses to your cheek.

“This feels familiar,” a voice drawls from behind.

Groaning and clutching at your abdomen, you watch a pair of feet step into view. A tongue clicks, drawing your gaze upward to meet your father’s hollow-faced scowl.

“Don’t be so dramatic. You should be used to this by now,” he says, circling you like a vulture. “Now get up.”

Feeling the blood drain from your face, you force yourself forward, but his foot slams into your side, punching a second breath from your lungs.

“I said get up, girl!” he shouts. “No one’s here to protect you now.”

He’s right. There’s nothing between you, no one standing at your side. There never really had been—until recently.

Sick with rage, you slowly push yourself to your feet, and something flashes sharp from the corner of your eye. Righting your balance, you see him and the tachi he wields—a sword designed for combat on horseback. It’s long and curved in its reach. Perfect to keep you and your fingertips at a distance. A spineless tactic.

Slipping your hand into your obi, it closes around the sheath, and with a quick motion, you draw your tantō free and point it at him.

His lip curls back, nose wrinkling with disdain as his eyes flick to the smaller weapon.

“Did the creature truly teach you how to wield a blade?” he laughs as if the sight of you armed is the most absurd thing he’s seen all day.

“No.” You swipe away some blood caked to your upper lip. “Uraume did. And they’ve been more of a guardian to me these last two months than you’ve ever been!”

It’s something you’ve never considered until this moment, and regrettably, you’ll never have the chance to thank them. There’s also the realization that you’ll never see Ren again, either. But for now, you shove that all aside.

Focus.

Footwear scuffing along the path, your father widens his stance, keeping his presence guarded and watchful.

“Hmm, a pity neither of them knew about that.” His gaze drops to your shaking hands, the colour staining them. “It might have been something to see them try to teach you discipline—what you could’ve been if you weren’t so shamefully usele—”

Stupid. Useless girl.

“Shut up!” The words emerge as a snarl, your mouth tightening in anger. “I don’t know why I haven’t done it, but I should have killed you years ago.”

There’s a beat of silence before he bursts into heavy laughter.

“I know why!” he chuckles, alighting his free hand to his temple. “There’s no clarity up here for you.” He pauses, and he smiles. “The answer sits right in front of you. It’s been sitting with you for twenty-five long years.”

What?

Nothing he says makes sense. Nothing.

It’s all nonsense. Gibberish.

Sneering, he continues to laugh.

And he doesn’t stop laughing.

You need him to stop laughing.

Need him to stop breathing.

You want him gone.

Everyone. Gone.

Just like she said.

“But you’re too broken and naive to understand,” he adds after calming himself. “Too desperate for scraps of affection to see the truth.” 

“Desperate?” You take a long step forward, the broken edges of your kimono swaying with the movement.

Your father’s eyes narrow, the grip on his weapon shifting defensively.

“I’m glad I was desperate enough to witness the downfall of this clan. Everything you’ve built, all the power you’ve fatted on, is about to be taken in one single, glorious night.”

You let the words settle, let them crash and reform as you watch his face turn rigid.

“And it’s all because of me,” you add, mouth twitching into a smile that doesn’t fully settle.

He stares at you, his eyes betraying uncertainty for the first time, as though he doesn’t recognize the person standing before him—neither his daughter nor his victim.  

Good.  

You didn’t want to be either. You want to be your own person—not something your father can twist into a means to an end.

Your own damn person.

Free to be greedy. Selfish.

To want things you’ve never allowed yourself to want.

And god, you think, you knew what that was.

Through slitted eyes, you watch him carefully.

Waiting.

The corner of his mouth curves. The veins in his neck bulge. His fingers loosen briefly on the hilt of his weapon, only to tighten again.

Then, with a sudden burst of motion, he uncoils, charging straight for you.

You lift your weapon in preparation.

Your father might be older, but his experience shows. He’s lived through battles, he knows how to fight. You are running on reckless adrenaline. And your blade is no match for his reach.

But all you need is one touch.

Which leaves you only one choice.

Pulling back your arm, you aim, and you throw. The tantō spins through the air, curving as it tumbles toward him. And while it flies, you run.

You should be thinking—recalling everything Uraume taught you about footwork and intent. But you’re angry. So fucking angry. And in your rage, you’re almost mindless.

Distracted by the incoming projectile, he swats it aside. The weapon clatters to the ground, the sound bouncing off the stones.

It’s enough.

In the next instant, you slip past his guard, lunging for the exposed skin of his wrist where his sleeve has rolled up.

Terror flashes across his face as your fingers make contact, his weapon too long to angle back in time.

Do what needs to be done!

You heave, and you pull all your power into you, feeling its scurrying energy at your fingertips. Pulse quickening, you prepare to end him, to watch the life drain from his eyes as you release it.

And you do.

And you wait.

Ready.

But nothing happens.

No rippling flesh. No rot. No torn body. No satisfying end.

You glance down.

Panic stiffens you.

The discolouration of your hands is gone. But that shouldn’t matter—it should have worked. Why didn’t it work?

You press harder, frantically digging your fingers into his skin, pushing so forcefully the flesh indents and puckers.

A little more.

Nothing.

Please. Please?

Still, nothing.

You look up and find furious eyes looking back at yours. Furious eyes you’ve seen looking back too many times.

A snarl explodes from your father’s throat as his knee drives into your stomach, sending you sprawling backward. Your feet catch on the uneven path, and the next thing you know, you’re on your backside, blinking up at the inky night sky.

He steps forward, his outstretched shadow falling over you.

“You think by sicking that thing on us, you can destroy everything I’ve built?” he hisses, flicking the blade tip across the top of your left hand to draw blood. “Enlighten me, girl, what part of yourself did you give to him in return?”

The blade flicks again. You hiss at the bite of metal cutting through flesh. Watching him carve a wider, deeper trench from your wrist to elbow.

“It doesn’t matter what I gave him,” you spit, your eyes wandering to where your tantō lies paces away.

Not close enough.

Your eyes wander back.

Another swipe.

More blood trickles down, soaking into the fabric of your kimono sleeve. 

“Ryomen Sukuna does what he wants,” you breathe, trying not to move while the monouchi glides to coax out more red. “He always has, and he always will.”

As exhausting as that is.

But he is untamable.

A force. A menace. A monste—

A pressure prods against your skin. A pressure that is familiar. A pressure that feels as if it’s searching and looking for something.

“... and besides,” you continue, ignoring Sukuna’s aura, even when it’s strong enough to lift every hair on your body. “What I give to my husband is none of your fucking busi—”

That tendril of energy suddenly bursts, shattering your sentence.

Your head turns. Your father’s does as well.

Gaze sweeping toward the compound, you focus on the distant main hall at the estate’s center.

From deep inside, energy gathers, pulling inward, tighter and tighter—

And then it snaps.

Every part of you freezes.

For one heartbeat, silence, save for the distant sounds of screaming.

The air feels thin, suffocating under the King of Curses’ hold.

The earth trembles.

And then…

...

BOOOM!

A detonation of raw energy erupts.

The force spirals upward into a towering column before expanding outward in an uncontrollable wave.

Unseen slashes tear through the air, eviscerating everything—the compound, trees, rocks, wildlife, everyone still inside.

It’s both mesmerizing and horrifying to witness. 

You can’t look away.

The shockwave rolls forward. Rubble shoots skyward, curling and tumbling like an angry plume before raining down.

There’s no time to shield yourself as the aftershock bursts past, slamming against your body, throwing your hair back, and peppering your skin with sharp, stinging debris. Dust fills your lungs, carrying with it the faint taste of blood.

Squinting your eyes, you realize that it isn’t stopping. It keeps coming and coming, devouring and pushing forward faster and faster.

Fear spears through you as you brace yourself to be torn into tiny pieces.

But then, all at once, it stops—just shy of your bare feet, your toes nearly severed.

The barrage settles, the power flickering and fading into a sudden, deafening silence.

You blink.

A shaky exhale escapes you as your eyes take in the destruction—the massive crater where the estate once stood.

The corner of your mouth pulls up.

The other fight has been decided.

No one can survive that. Not anyone but one.

You keep looking, but not for long. 

Quickly, you pull away.

With your father distracted and gaping at the devastation, you throw yourself across the ground toward your weapon.  

Reaching, you grab it and whirl.  

In a blink, you surge forward, driving the blade deep into the muscles of his thigh.  

He lets out a pained grunt as his legs buckle, his body collapsing into a tangle of exhausted limbs.

Teeth bared, he struggles to push himself up, but you don’t let him.

With a burst of strength, you lunge at him. Your injured hand grabs his wrist, pinning his weapon hand to the ground.

Another surge, and you’re face-to-face, the tip of your blade pressing into the hollow of his throat, drawing a thin line of blood.

Your breath catches.  

Then you freeze.

And you look.

And the face staring back is your father’s.

His eyes meet yours, frail and tired-looking.

You both remain like this.

Quiet. Waiting.

“Once…” he starts, his chest heaving with shallow, laboured breaths. The rhythm pulls at threads buried deep within you, grounding you, like you’re a child again, as if he’d once loved you.

“Once, I think I cared for you, just like your mother had, but—” He blinks like he lost his train of thought in mid-sentence. “But I forgot what that felt like.”

Something inside your chest twists, hollows out, dissolves.

Forget?

Forget?

How could he forget?

Your head falls back, and a raw, animalistic laugh rips through you while tears shimmer as glass in your eyes.  

You squeeze your weapon.

“You think I care?” you exhale.

But maybe you do, because you think back to yourself as a child and how knowing this might have broken you even further.

“All I care is that Yuna and I will be rid of this.” You nudge the blade harder into his skin. “Rid of you.”

His breathing stills. Your gaze drops back to him.

The sharp angles of his face, his eyes—everything is the same. And yet, all at once, it’s not.

“Yes… your sister,” he murmurs. “Kasai’s most radiant and perfect gem. Flawless on the surface, isn’t she?”

You don’t answer him.

He laughs, low and bitter. And he doesn’t stop laughing.

You need him to stop laughing.

Need him to stop breathing. 

You want him gone.

For years, you’ve endured. And endured. And endured.

No more.

Everyone. Gone.

“Next time you see her,” he says, his voice cracking, “ask her...”

Something wet rolls down your cheek.

His eyes lift and fill with an emotion terribly close to pity.

“Ask your sister how your mother—”

You drive the blade into his neck, a half-cry tearing from your throat.

In the secluded garden, his eyes bulge, the whites so bright in the dark that it’s unbearable to look at.

With a short twist of your arm, you push the metal in until the hilt grazes skin and meets resistance. He coughs, and blood bubbles up, flecking his bottom lip. Red weeps in fine tracks down from the wound, and he flails.

You let go of his weapon hand, giving him space to shudder in his final death throes.

Where his feet lay in the garden, they twitch, his heels digging into the dirt and pushing up small piles as if trying to crawl away.

You won’t let him.

After years of trying to escape, he finally understands what it feels like—what he made you feel. Powerless. Hurt. Unloved and unwanted.

No more.

Your eyes follow your hand as you pull the blade free. But instead of sheathing it, you drive it in again.

Hot liquid spurts out, spilling over your bare, trembling fingers.

Then, you pull it out, then push it in again.

You think of your mother.

Then out, then in again.

You think of your sister.

Out, then in.

Again.

And again, until nothing remains but a dark red hollow where his neck once was—just like the gaping crater Sukuna made into your home.

Home…

You have no home.

Your father stops moving, and you pull back. The gurgling in his throat falls silent, eyes rolling soft and distant. 

Gone.

For a long moment, the world falls quiet, filled only with the calming sounds of a soft and gentle breeze rustling overhead. But as you sit there, panting and straddling the body, the metallic tang of blood and the weight of death wander into your nostrils.

Three times you killed tonight. Three lives taken. Three lives never coming back. And there is also the heavy knowledge of what you asked the King of Curses to do for you.

Wiping your brow, you feel the adrenaline slowly ebbing and falling away from your body. Then, leaning over, face angling toward the dirt, you vomit.

Feeling empty would be easier. Better. You want to feel nothing at this point so you force it all out.

Watching the sick and bile seep into the earth, you slowly gather yourself, your stomach emptied, and your trembling eased.

There is still more to do.

Blade in hand, you bend down and cut a strip of clean cloth from your father’s kimono. Quickly, you tie it around the wound on your arm to staunch the bleeding. Without Sukuna’s healing, it will scar.

Pushing up to your feet on unsteady legs, you tuck the weapon away and take one last glance down at the body lying half on the path, and half on the darkened soil.

Freedom—yours and your sister’s—stares lifelessly back at you.

Safe. Finally.

Hopefully…

You shiver. A pulse beat inside your head throbs.

Take Ayana. Find Yuna.

You need to leave. Now.  

Slowly stepping away, you turn, and you run.

* * * * *

Scattered pieces of debris from the King of Curses’ destruction crack and shift underfoot as you pick your way toward the stables. You don’t allow yourself the chance to pause or look at it. You just keep moving.

As you near the edge of the garden’s soil, your escape route comes into view. Then you stop.

You hear them before you see them—voices.  

Sinking low, you flatten yourself against a shadowed shrub for cover.

“—the hell is taking so long?” someone grumbles.

Tilting your head for a better view without exposing yourself, you spot two armed men standing outside the stables. From their appearances, one is Kasai, the other a Zen’in.

Odd. Because you thought the Zen’in clan had left after they were rejected in favour of Onishi.

You shuffle closer on your haunches, feet pressing into the dirt.

“The aberration should have tired by now,” one of them—likely the Kasai—says. 

“Doubtful,” the other replies. “He’s probably already wiped out the entire Kamo clan. And if that’s the case—” A disgusted sound rises from his throat. “We can only hope that psychotic fuck doesn’t become their next clan head.”

A pause.

Silence.

The other man says nothing.

In the distance, the thunder of hooves suddenly tears through the night.

You lift your head, listening. A nervous twist forms in your stomach. You don’t know who’s coming, but something feels wrong. Just like this whole harvest festival has felt wrong.

Muscles tensing, you prepare to run for the stables and retrieve your mount.

“What about Lord Kasai’s daughters?”

You freeze in place.

“I heard Lady Yuna took a horse and rode west. Apparently, the other one slipped away.”

“Don’t we need her?”

“So I’m told.”

A chill drips down your spine.

“And ordered to remain untouched and unharmed. If not, well...”

Your heart pounds at their words and the approaching sound of hooves and baying horses, each second narrowing your chance to escape.

You can’t get caught.

But should you risk slipping past these two and whoever is coming, or turn back and find Sukuna?

No.

You’re on your own now.

Turning your head to the left, you know of the private door at the back of the stables—the one you and your sister used to sneak through as children. It’s your best option.

Breathing deeply, you pull away from the shrub and steady yourself. If you don’t move now, the delicate sense of freedom you’ve killed for will slip through your fingers.

You rock back and forth on your heels, tuning out the voices and hoofbeats.

Inhale.

You can’t get caught.

Exhale.

You launch forward.

Feet digging into the dirt, they barely leave the ground before a hand clamps around the side of your head. A panicked scream rises up your throat, but the hand shifts, a palm pressing hard over your mouth to smother it. Another arm snakes around your waist, dragging you backward into deeper shadow. You stumble, colliding with solid warmth.

Even with your strength drained, instinct takes over. Your right hand flies up, clawing at the stranger’s grip—but a third hand catches your wrist, pinning it to your side.

Three.

Three hands.

No.

No.

Injured arm exploding upward, you make a desperate attempt to break free. Why you thought that possible, you’ll never know. His fourth hand locks around your other wrist, rendering both arms useless.

One wrench backward, and you go still. Another pull, and so does he.

Caught.

In the darkness of the garden, quiet, shaking breaths pass between you two.

And with your back flush against the strong planes of his abdomen, he cages you in so close.

It’s an embrace of sorts—one you can’t fight as your bruised body goes limp against.

A dark part of you aches with relief that he’s found you, and you can feel the steady pulse of his heart.

But you know you can’t stay. You need to be gone—from here and from him.

You need to leave him.

No—

Pain sizzles along your spine, only to burst behind your eyelids.

Yes.

Leave him.

The words circle endlessly, strangling your thoughts.

You start to squirm, start to thrash, but his grip tightens. Soft breaths turn shallow, escaping your nose as the hand covering your mouth tilts your head back, forcing your gaze upward.

The King of Curses’ face swims into view. Short strands of pink hair pull away from his forehead, crimson eyes glowing bright in the darkness.

“Going somewhere?” he hisses, flashing a grin.

Red paints the inside of his mouth and teeth. He reeks of death. Of fire, and broken bodies—the aftermath of what he’s done for you.

For me.

Before you can even react, your hair crashes wildly across your face as he suddenly moves, spinning and pulling you away from where you stood moments ago.

From the corner of your eye, the stables—your path to freedom, to your sister—begin to slip away.

Panic surges in your chest.

You fight.

Kicking your legs wildly into the air, the momentum has you writhing and squirming while the mantra in your head builds, rising in desperation louder and louder.

Leave him!

Leave him!

Leave him!

Without loosening his grip, you bite down hard on the hand covering your mouth, enough to draw blood. It piles and flows onto your tongue in streams, hot and metallic.

Sukuna tenses, exhales softly, unfazed, and doesn’t let go.

“I was wondering when the little snake would finally show her fangs,” he growls with excitement.

Feet dangling uselessly in the air, you watch the surroundings blur, his strides quickening as he moves toward the limestone barrier. Using his shoulder, he pushes through a side gate, passing into a cluster of cypress trees. Only then does he set you down.

Cold grass presses against the soles of your feet, and you stagger back, putting space between you. You quickly wipe your mouth and spit out the blood sitting on your tongue.

You turn.

For the first time, you both stand before each other, drenched and covered in splashes of red and gore. No. That doesn’t feel right.

Why doesn’t it feel right?

Taking in your appearance, Sukuna’s mouth twitches.

“Wife,” he murmurs, his eyes trailing a languid path over every part of your blood-soaked body, heating as they roam. The intensity matches the warmth steadily rising in your chest.  

“Look at you…” His voice drops, turning low and raspy. “You’ve gotten even filthier since the last time I saw you.”

Fuck.

That voice.

It almost makes you forget everything that has just happened. Completely wiping away what you’re meant to do, where you need to be.

When his hooded eyes return to yours, they darken, and the red around his pupils nearly disappears. You wish they wouldn’t do that. Want them to look elsewhere because your heart skips a beat a thousand times over and slams so hard into your chest that you edge backward.

“Blood red.” He steps closer.

Your knees threaten to tremble inward as his bare upper body moves with fluid, unnatural grace. 

“Just like a flower.”

He stops before you, head dipping low and levelling you with a stare. Your pulse quickens to an unbearable high.

“It suits you,” he whispers softly into your face.

“Lord Sukuna.” You exhale, then swallow, his lower eyes flicking to track the movement of your throat. “You found me.”

He smirks—but then he blinks.

His expression darkens.

“You’ve always been easy for me to find…”

Snapping branches and the whining of horses burst into your ears, breaking the spell.

You look away, glancing toward the source. There, Ayana and Sukuna’s mount stand, tethered beneath a tree. Your brow furrows in confusion. They shouldn’t be here—you were just about to barrel into the stables to retrieve her.

But cypress. You noticed the scent of cypress on Sukuna’s kimono. That’s where he had been. He had moved them earlier in the evening—while you were dressing.

Turning away from you and stepping closer, the King of Curses begins untying the animals.

“It seems you’ve misplaced something,” he remarks cooly over his shoulder, casting a glance at your hands.

Your eyes dart downward.

Gloves.

You say nothing, your fingers twitching before reaching into your obi to gather them. The effort takes a moment; the blood and sweat clinging to your skin make the leather stick as you pull them on. Once encased, your gaze lingers there. The gloves remind you—it’s over. There’s no longer a reason to end his life.

Your mind settles back, watching Sukuna prepare the two mounts. The reins creak with each move of his four hands, the fastenings of the saddle’s buckles clicking into place. When he’s finished, he pats both horses on the neck.

All while you watch, your mind chases down reasons to find a way out.

“Lord Sukuna,” you say, keeping your voice steady. “What are you doing?”

Above, the wind stirs the leaves.

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” he mumbles, annoyed. “You have eyes. Use them.”

He doesn’t turn as he guides the mounts forward, their hooves parting the crackling grass.

“That’s not what I mean,” you murmur, stepping closer to Ayana, who is tucked near his side. Just a simple slip past him, and you could mount her. “My father’s dead, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s bottom hands slide down both reins as he turns to face you.

“What of it?”

What of it?

Does he not understand?

You exhale quietly, straighten your posture, then lock eyes with the man, who is your husband in name only.

“The Kasai clan is gone. Your arrangement was with my father—” You motion between the two of you. “This thing between us… it’s over.”

There's no purpose to this anymore.

The treaty is void. It’s done.

“So please,” you continue, your voice quieter now. “I wish to be released from this union.”

The space between you grows still.

Sukuna studies you for a long moment. His eyes soften, his expression unreadable. Then his gaze shifts, tracing every detail of your face, starting with your hair, gliding to your lips, then your nose, before finally settling on your eyes.

Then, he cocks his head slightly.

And laughs.

The sound is as loud as it is cruel, and you feel another cage closing around you.

“Is that what you thought?” He arches his slitted eyebrow, taking a step closer, guiding the two flanking horses by their reins.

“After what I just did for you. You thought this was over?”

The air seems to grow thin.

“After what I did, in which you now owe me.”

Another step.

“After I’ve told you time and time again that you belong to me.” The tone of his voice shifts, turning low and threatening. “You thought this would be over? ”

Another step, longer in length.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

You step back. He stops.

“I—” You hesitate, unsure of anything anymore. “Yes?” you manage, the word barely holding together. “Neither of us ever wanted this, did we? So… what’s the point?”

His eyes turn dark as they narrow to slits, and he’s moving again.

“Point?” he spits. The sound is broken glass. “You’re asking me if there’s a point? Even after I heard you cry out so desperately for me?”

Another step.

Your eyes dart to your mare.

“When I’ve seen how those once-timid eyes now look at me?”

One last step, and he’s before you. He dips his head, his gaze locking with yours.

“This thing between us is not over,” he hisses.

Another feeling claws its way into your chest.

“Then… what is it that you want from me?”

Sukuna tilts his head, his four red eyes fusing onto yours. The question seems straightforward, but his expression suggests there’s more to it.

In the distance, shouting voices. It snaps both of your heads toward the commotion. Along with it comes a faint, dull pressure. You recognize that pulsing energy now, the signature of someone like you. Someone like Sukuna.

“It’s time to go,” the King of Curses growls.

You pull away from him, darting toward Ayana, but he grabs your wrist and lifts you up, placing you into his mount’s saddle.

The moment he touches you, something hurts. Pain stabs into your skull. That same chanting mantra tripping over itself again and again.

Leave him. Leave him. Leave him. Leave him. Leave him.

“Please, just release me from this!” you breathe, trying to slip off, but his hand clamps down on your thigh, keeping you in place.

“No.”

Gripping his horse’s mane and swinging his leg over, he positions himself behind you—a solid wall with no chance of escape. His lower hands slot around your waist and take Ayana’s reins with his upper left hand, and his mounts in the other.

“Say goodbye to the north, wife. You won’t be seeing it again. But I’m sure you’ll find it comforting when we return home.”

Home.

Home…

The shrine.

“No!” You lurch forward, your battered body thrashing in his grip, setting both horses on edge as they toss their heads with alarm.

“Yuna!”

The name tears from your throat. A desperate plea. The last fragile hope you cling to—wherever she is.

Was she safe? She has to be safe.

She’ll come for me.

Won’t she? To protect you. She has to. She promised she would.

Sukuna’s hands tighten. He lets out a frustrated breath.  

“When will you learn?” he growls, his mouth close to the crest of your ear.

One of his hands releases your writhing frame, moving to the side of your head.

You freeze, sucking in a tight breath as his energy suddenly spikes.

Leave him!

Leave him!

Leave him!

“Sukun—!”

Flick!

His fingers snap against your temple. 

A sharp pain erupts behind your eyes. An even sharper pulse eats its way through the fragile tissue of your skull like fire, devouring a blight that was never meant to be there. All at once, it silences that screaming chant into a whisper, and clarity comes in the form of a heartbeat. The rhythm of two heartbeats, yours and his, the one knocking into your back.

Your lips part, weakly moving to form words. They try to tell him you’re grateful for what he’s done. Try to say you never wanted to leave him. Try to tell him more. Try to open that bottled-up jar and show him things still tucked safely inside.

But no words come. Just slurred mumbles, your eyes swimming, your head sagging until it rests against his sternum.

“Shh, you’re okay,” he coos against the side of your face, his voice mingling with the creaking of leather.

Black rots the outline of your vision as the mount sways into motion.

You feel your husband's hand trail from your temple to your scalp, softly combing his fingers through your tangled hair.

It feels nice.

You want more.

I want you, Sukuna.

The shadows come closer, swallowing the last of your consciousness.

I need you, Sukuna.

Eyes collapsing shut, your body becomes weightless, but he doesn’t let you fall.

His lower hands slide down, steadying you. One braces your hip, the other presses firmly against your waist, holding you securely as though you might shatter if he ever let you go.

The warmth of him spreads through you, filling you up. You feel safe, protected. Feelings you haven’t known in years… decades… a lifetime… ever.

You want more.

You need more.

I think… I know… my heart is yours… Sukuna.

Like sinking into honey, you lose yourself to the weight of exhaustion until, at last, you surrender to the dark embrace.

🔗 Chapter 29

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 29

Fic masterlist

Guys it's 3am five hours past my bedtime I'll do the header tomorrow lol

HAPPY FAKE BIRTHDAY @sirius-blacks-official-girl who 100% came up with a fake one to milk this chapter out of me.

JOKING love you Flora this chapter was so overdue I'm actually a little embarassed. But I DID write most of it on my notes app in ubers and in between classes because my studies are killing me so..

Warnings: mentions of inflation

Words: 7k

“The kids did say you have a bug up your ass today,” Fenrys said from his doorstep, somewhere between frowning and laughing at Rowan’s frazzled look. 

Perhaps he did. He did snap at the recruits more often today, and it was naive of him to think people wouldn’t notice or comment. Thankfully they had a gap in their schedule this month, hence why he and Fenrys were at Rowan’s and Aelin’s place mid-afternoon on a work day.

Rowan was well aware that soon Maisie and Fleetfoot would arrive like a tornado—one from preschool and the other from daycare—and Aelin… he didn’t even know. What he did know is that she’ll be more willing to talk about whatever she’s going through if Rowan isn’t looking like a truck just ran over him—his current state. 

His friend eyed him warily and stepped in. As annoying as Fenrys could be when he assumed his life-of-the-party persona, it didn’t get on Rowan’s nerves like when the man was being perceptive. 

He didn’t feel like talking yet and, at that moment, it was hard to tell something more unsettling than when his lifelong friend scanned his soul with bottomless onyx eyes. 

“How 's Aelin?”

Rowan didn’t answer. He didn’t know it himself.

Tired.

Those are the only five letters he gets to hear after asking her the same question.

His Fireheart seemed so tired these days, it was hard to discard a depressive episode. He even asked her if she was pregnant when Lorcan joked about it last week, but she said it was unlikely, and Rowan was getting ahead of himself.

He wouldn’t dare hope. It was too soon, and Maisie was a handful already. As much as he wanted more children, they had more things to do before that—actually, just one specific thing that required something shiny to bribe her with.

If Aelin was pregnant, she’d tell him. She told him without any delay and in worse circumstances last time, so he knew she would. What unsettled him was her history of not telling him when she was struggling.

Isn’t this why they parted ways, after all? 

Her being too closed off while he was too dumb to pull his head out of his ass and see her? Well, Aelin’s still clinically depressed, and Rowan’s still an idiot—they just have it more under control now.

Instead of explaining his inner turmoil, he said, “Your old room is hers now. You’re getting your shit out of there while I remodel it.” 

This being the reason why Fenrys was summoned here in the first place. Rowan needed more room for Aelin, and his ex-roommate’s was five years too late to get the rest of his things.

Fenrys mock-flinched, his hand on his chest in a wounded gesture. 

Rowan hardened his expression to get the message across. He wasn’t kidding. For the past years, he’d been asking Fenrys to finish moving out and change his address everywhere that mattered—not only his delivery app.

“I live here with my daughter, and now I’m making room for my…” Girlfriend? The word didn’t feel like enough. “Life partner. I don’t have room for your birth certificate anymore, neither for those old, hideous pants you swear will be trendy again.”

Fenrys squinted at Rowan, common sense fighting the man’s stubbornness until he said, “Fair enough.”

His former roommate whistled when he saw Rowan’s work. “I don’t remember this room being quite this nice, Rowie.”

He shrugged. “That’s just me stress-building.”

Rowan has been not-so-secretly working on a room for Aelin ever since she started showing signs of depression again. He’s keeping it locked so as to not spoil the surprise—she hasn’t commented on it, so neither did he.

It was the very least he could do. They’ve had the conversation where she asked him to take their relationship slow millions of times, and as much as Rowan respected her decision, he didn’t work hard enough to respect this boundary of hers, even if he did know that routine changes can trigger a depressive episode. 

Moving in together after barely four months. Who does that?

Rowan used to feel like everything would be fixed if he managed to rekindle his romantic relationship with Aelin. It’s a bitter realization that they’re still the same flawed people that tore each other apart.

He was supposed to be working through and letting go of his guilt, but how could Rowan do that if his failings kept creeping back into the present like this?

But he had furniture to assemble, and that’s what he wanted to focus on for now—at least until he and Aelin could find some time to talk. 

Fenrys’ whistle snapped him back into reality. 

“A bookcase, huh?”

“Yep.”

His friend smirked. “Because she made you?”

“No, because she’ll like it, and now I’m making you help me with it.“

Fenrys cackled. “I was called to retrieve my things, now I’m helping with the room too?”

Rowan meant business when he texted his friend, but now he was glad Fenrys was here.

“How long will it take to empty half a closet into your car?” Rowan taunted with a raised brow. 

A playful sigh while the man unlocked his phone. “I guess Dorian can walk Calvin and Klein alone.”

~~

All of Rowan’s problems evaporated with Aelin’s cheek pressed against his shoulder blades, her arms wrapping his torso from behind while he mixed what was about to become some veggie-loaded chicken nuggets for dinner.

His girls weren’t good at eating their vegetables, but that just meant he needed to be creative at hiding them in the dishes—a practice he mastered a while ago, when Maisie was a toddler.

Aelin leaned on the kitchen island and looked over at where Maisie hung out with Fleetfoot, making a mess under the kitchen table because both parents were too tired to argue. 

“Should we have that talk now?” She asked, dreading to leave their frail happy bubble.

“I think we’ve delayed it enough.”

Aelin nodded. “Should I start, or…?”

“Go ahead.”

She detangled herself from him and said to Maisie, “Honey, can you come here for a sec?”

“I can’t! I’m busy playing,” the little girl said without taking her attention off Fleetfoot.

“Maisie,” Rowan dragged out her name in a stern tone, his patience thin with everything going on these days. “Your mother gave you an order.”

His daughter’s spine straightened. Sensing they meant business, she crawled from under the table and approached them with her arms crossed, not quite looking them in the eye.

Rowan had no idea where Maisie learned that grumpiness from. Aelin kissed the top of her head to lighten the mood, a silent sign of appreciation for the reluctant compliance.

She asked, “How’s that teeth looking, hun?”

Maisie was about to lose her first baby tooth, and it’s been quite the event at their home. Aelin was weirdly excited about it, and he let her take the lead in this. 

Rowan had barely gotten over her first baby tooth growing—his throat swelled every time he thought too hard about the fact that enough time had passed for her to lose it.

The little girl opened her mouth wide and aaahed obediently.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pull it out?” Aelin asked while gently wiggling the tooth to inspect it, her body vibrating with the need to yank that tooth off Maisie’s head.

The tooth was—quite literally—hanging by a thread, but Maisie didn’t want to pull it out yet. While parenting sometimes meant ordering, they did their best to honor her consent regarding her own body. Maisie didn’t have the authority to decide when she could brush her teeth, but she’d decide when to yank them off.

On the other hand, there was Aelin. A little butcher lived inside his Fireheart—one that cuts people open for a living—and she was itching to rip that tooth off. If Rowan had any to spare, he’d let her take it off just to see that special glimmer her eyes get when she’s thrilled.

At her mother’s suggestion, Maisie took a step back and frantically shook her head, eyes wide and mouth closed.

“Today at school Bree said she ripped it out too soon because she wanted the money, and it hurt a lot and she only got the money three—” Maisie held up three fingers as close to their faces as possible for emphasis. “days later because the tooth fairy got mad at her for it.”

Aelin’s lips thinned. Rowan couldn’t tell if Sellene was a genius, or if he wanted to throttle her for being behind the reason Maisie was scared to pull out her tooth.

He crouched to reach his daughter’s eye level and explained that her tooth was loose enough, so she wouldn’t be pulling it just for the money. “I’m sure the tooth fairy will understand. I used to yank out my own teeth when I was your age and she never delayed my pay.”

Aelin enthusiastically endorsed everything he said.

“The rules aren’t the same anymore, Daddy.” Maisie frowned, as serious as she could be. “You were a kid, like, at least a hundred years ago. The Tooth Fairy probably had to ride a dinosaur to your house.”

He blinked. Did his five-year-old just call him old? Aelin’s cackle in the background confirmed it. 

Mid-thirties wasn’t that old, right?

Rowan went back to making dinner before it got too late, and the girls decided to help him to roll the mixture into a ball and flatten it into a nugget shape.

Aelin continued, “I can write her an email clarifying the situation, how does that sound?”

Maisie took a moment to think, rolling the soon-to-be nugget from hand to hand and nodded. “Can you ask her how much I’ll get? Because she’s not paying the same to my friends at school.”

“The amount she gives you depends on how well you take care of your teeth for her,” Aelin said with a pointed look, the implication about the fact that Maisie doesn’t like to brush her teeth hanging in the air. His Fireheart was a genius.

“How do you know this?” Maisie squinted her eyes at her mom.

“I’m a mom. I know things you don’t.” Aelin nonchalantly shaped the nugget, pretending she wasn’t aware she just posed herself as a mysterious source of wisdom in all things childhood folklore.

“Okay,” Maisie dragged out the word while giving her mom a skeptical look. “Do you know how much she’ll give me?”

“It slipped my mind.” Aelin asked Rowan, “Do you remember it?”

“Huh,” he mused while putting the nuggets into the air fryer. “I’m pretty sure it was $1.”

“$1!? But… but in-flay-shun!” Maisie exclaimed, carefully wording the next word as she struggled to pronounce it.

Inflation coming out the mouth of a 5-year-old. What the hell. 

Aelin tried and failed to muffle her laugh into her hand, and Rowan’s eyes bugged out of his skull.

“How on earth do you know what that is?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“Uncle Fen said the Tooth Fairy would give me more money if I said this word,” the little girl said sheepishly.

Of course. Fenrys didn’t bother staying for dinner, but he made sure to bring trouble regardless. 

“You wanna add inflation? Let’s calculate this like adults, then. I’m gonna need a piece of paper for this.”

Maisie ran to fulfill her dad’s request, her little body bouncing with excitement when she came back… with her pink dinosaur-themed magnetic doodle board.

That’d do, he supposed.

“Now, the last time I got a raise because of it—“ not that Maisie would know what inflation is and why it made her parents earn a raise, “I got a 9% adjustment, but I’ll add 10% to yours.”

Wide-eyed, Maisie squealed. “I’ll get $11?”

Under his dead body. Sellene laid a good foundation to stop Maisie and Bree from starting a self-mutilation business because of Tooth Fairy, but he didn’t trust his daughter enough to give her this much. When Maisie has money, she’s no better than Scrooge McDuck.

“No, for you it means more 10 cents. You’ll get $1,1.”

The little girl pouted. “Uncle Fen made it sound nicer.”

“Sorry, hun.” Rowan gave her a sympathetic look. “And you know what other thing adults have in their salaries?”

“What?” Maisie asked, sat on the edge of her stool, hands sprawled on the kitchen island with the hopes to cash in more money.

“Taxes.”

“You wouldn’t,” Aelin cut in, her tone low and disbelieving.

“She wants it the adult way.”

“Rowan Whitethorn, you are not taxing Maisie’s tooth money!”

“Would you listen to me before we—” a pause because his big mouth almost ruined Maisie’s childhood, “before we email Tooth Fairy with the final tooth cash decision.”

With a pinch to her nose, she relented, “Go on, then.”

He continued to Maisie, “I pay about 30% in taxes, but I’ll make yours 20% because your income is lower.”

The little girl frowned, sensing she wasn’t gonna like what was coming next—no tax-paying citizen did.

“And according to my calculations, your after-tax tooth income would be about… 88 cents.”

“WHAT?” Maisie shouted, grabbing the doodle board to see it for herself—not that she’d understand the rates and percentages, but it was indeed pretty infuriating stuff.

“So…” Rowan continued, “You can have the adult way with inflation, or you can take the $1 the Tooth Fairy is offering and let your parents take you out for ice cream when the tooth falls.” A brow raise. “What do you want?”

“The adult way sucks. This is why you have grey hair.”

“Maisie,” Aelin reproached, “that’s not nice.”

The timer beeped, telling him it was time to turn the nuggets in the air fryer. “Let’s go set the table, Mais,” Aelin said while he finished cooking.

The gentle rain outside chilled the mid-spring evening, something about the sound of the water falling against the large glass window adding a cozy factor to their dinner night. 

They would’ve started eating sooner if Maisie hadn’t decided she’d only eat if her plate was the same color as Fleetfoot’s bowl, so it was another five to ten minutes until they found the girl’s lilac plate and the four of them were all set.

Which didn’t make much of a difference for Aelin, since she was practically pushing her food around.

Rowan tapped her foot with his under the table. “You good?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not great.” A shrug. “Just a bit bloated. The nuggets are great, though.” Aelin said with a weak smile she put on to soothe his worries. His Fireheart knew him well, but he knew her just as well.

“I’m sorry, Mama. Maybe your tummy needs a nap.”

Rowan relaxed his shoulders, melting. Maisie was such a thoughtful little—

“Are you gonna eat all your nuggets?” she asked, eyeing her mother’s plate as if she could eat the whole table on her own. 

Well, she can be exclusively a thoughtful little girl. Right now, she was a thoughtful little girl with ulterior motives.

Aelin’s lips twitched with suppressed laughter. “You do know there’s more in the tray, right?”

“I’m saving them for school tomorrow. Can I eat yours or not?”

Rowan frowned. “Maisie, there’s no need to ration food. We have a full fridge.”

“A full fridge of fruit! Not nuggets,” she said as Aelin gave her two from her plate. The little girl grinned, kicking her feet under the table before she chomped down—

Maisie froze mid-bite, green eyes nearly bulging out of her skull as she sent them a panicked look.

“What happened?”

She grabbed a napkin—thank the gods—and slowly spat the contents of her mouth on it. 

“The nugget yanked my wiggly tooth.”

“That’s…” Rowan grabbed the napkin, smiling at the gross mixture of saliva and chewed food that nestled Maisie’s tiny tooth and its even smaller bloody root. “That’s disgusting, actually. Are you okay?”

She nodded, still looking shocked. “I thought it’d hurt more, but it was just a little pop and it was gone.”

“Good. That’s—“

He looked over at Aelin and saw her wipe off a tear. She cupped both hands and asked, “Can I see?”

Rowan handed over Maisie’s soggy napkin, and Aelin’s laugh trembled with emotion. “So gross.” She rounded the table and hugged her very confused kid, who was still sitting.

“I’m so proud of you, Maisy Daisy.”

“Mom, you’re being weird.” A pause. “Are you sad you didn’t yank it?”

“Nope, not sad at all.” Aelin wiped another tear off with her thumb and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I��m just a little emotional today. Let me be.”

Aelin wasn’t a crier, but Rowan wasn’t either, and he did unexpectedly tear up on Maisie’s first day of school, leaving his estranged co-parent to awkwardly comfort him outside the classroom. When it came to parenting, he stopped judging a few tears a long time ago.

“Let’s get this ready for Tooth Fairy, shall we?”

Aelin opened an upper cabinet, then another box that was inside it, and retrieved delicate-looking pliers.

“Baby, I didn’t know you were still keeping surgery… things around the house.” He hinted at their old disagreement, not wanting to fight with her in front of Maisie. 

Aelin has a rather unorthodox way to prepare food—one of the reasons why he took over kitchen duties. She might not know how to season and fry the food well, but that woman can cut and debone meat like a pro. Rowan still wasn’t comfortable about having tools designed to cut flesh and bone anywhere near their very mischievous five-year-old—no matter how well Aelin hid them. 

The wave of uneasiness that haunted him today returned—the reminder of how good she is at keeping things hidden when she wants to.

“S’just a Kern Forceps, babe,” she replied with a grin, sprawling her hand over the kitchen island and stabbing it with the instrument, then made a point to show off her unharmed hand to him.

Fine, but this isn’t over, was the message he attempted to send by squinting his eyes at her.

~~

Hours later, he completely forgot to bring it up.

Fleetfoot’s paws against the hall’s wooden floor made Rowan jump, hyper aware of any sounds that came from outside their suite bathroom, where Rowan and Aelin lurked inside, sat on the floor.

Rationally, he knew that the broom that leaned against the outer side of Maisie’s bedroom door—a noise trap—would alert them if she woke up. Still, every noise put him on high alert because of their current, deeply covert activity.

They’d just brushed the two coins with a mixture of detergent and vinegar and rinsed it, now it just needed a bit of polishing and a coat of transparent glitter nail polish to make it look like an authentic Tooth Fairy token.

“Do you think Tooth Fairy would use chunky glitter in her coins? Or you think she’s a subtle-sparkle kind of girl?’ 

He narrowed his eyes at Aelin. “Explain.”

She sighed with such tiredness as if what she’d said was obvious and painted a  sample of each nail polish over a sheet of paper towel. “Our options are: transparent with tiny pink glitter or transparent with silver holographic flakes of glitter.”

“I see…” Rowan hummed thoughtfully, even though he did not see. “Let’s go with… pink.”

When it came to Maisie, pink was always a safe choice–and, as a girl dad, Rowan relied on safe choices.

“I don’t know… I’m just not feeling it with this tiny pink glitter.”

He wondered why she’d even asked. “Of course, I mean…” Rowan took back the sample as if squinting at it would give him any answers. “Well, technically the silvery one has the smaller grooves because the structure allows light to diffract and interfere better. Maybe you think this prismatic iridescence looks more fairytale-ish for the coin?”

Looking up, he faced a heavy-lidded Aelin. She licked her lips. “You know, it’s kinda hot when you remember you have a college degree.”

He grinned and gripped her chin. “I’ll save the dirty talk for later.” He wiggled his brows. “Maybe not.” A gentle, playful kiss. “Maybe you just can’t help yourself around my expertise in optical phys–”

“Alright!” She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck despite the rude interruption, the softness of her lips spurring his own into action. Four months, and it still struck him stupid every time Rowan took in the fact that he got to old Aelin like this, and the contradiction wasn’t lost in him–how he hadn’t gotten used to being with Aelin, yet she felt like home in such a way that made him feel like both their souls were intrinsically intertwined.

Rowan broke the kiss and bit her lower lip. In retaliation, she nipped the tip of his nose and left a feather-light kiss on his lips. Another. And another. Ever so playful, Aelin left a string of quick pecks that left him chuckling between them, but when she moved to kiss his cheek, he held her face and took hold of the situation.

“I love you.” He was the one to initiate the kiss this time. “I love you so much.”

“Love you.” She held his wrists that cradled her cheeks. “And there’s something I need to tell you.”

When he registered the serious tone in Aelin’s voice, that dark cloud that loomed in his afternoon crept back in.

Rowan’s shoulders slumped, dreading the conversation before them. “I know.”

She reared back. “You know?”

“It’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

“It wasn’t obvious to me.” A dark chuckle. “I guess I miss the signs every time, huh?”

Guilt clogged his throat like a rough rock. He looked away and busied his hands with the next task of polishing those two coins, but it didn’t stray his mind from the issue at hand. Aelin had a chronic condition and, as much as she tried to shield her family from it, it was his job to look after her—one he was failing terribly at, despite his efforts.

“Gods!” Aelin got up and left the bathroom, fanning the air in front of her while she ran towards the suite’s open window. Rowan went after her.

His hands were all over her, checking if she was alright. “What happened?”

“Sorry, baby.” She said between slow breaths, a hand on her stomach to steady herself. “I didn’t know that polish would smell so bad.”

“It’s okay. I can do it somewhere else. Or we can not do it. Why would Tooth Fairy’s coins look so shiny with all the traveling she does, anyway?” He kissed her forehead. “This is a symptom too?”

Aelin’s been struggling with nausea as a withdrawal symptom after switching from her previous antidepressant to a new one, and things were looking pretty bad. Maybe strong scents triggered it? 

She nodded. “It is.”

Rowan took a deep, pained breath. “I can’t help but think that the reason behind all this is my fault.”

A snort. “It’s definitely your fault.”

He grimaced. “I’m so sorry, I…” Rowan crossed his arms and looked out the window while he said, “I made something to cheer you up. It won’t make that much of a difference in the big picture, but I hope you’ll… you know… cheer up.”

“Okay.” She ran a hand from his shoulder down his arm, until their fingers were intertwined. “Show me.”

He grabbed the key and led her out of the room into the one they shared a wall with, Fenrys’ old bedroom.

“You made a renovation? Is this why you kept this door locked?” Aelin said, suspicion coating her tone as she studied him with narrowed eyes. 

“It’s not ready yet,” Rowan defended his work before she even saw it, anticipating a poor reaction.

“It’s too soon to even start thinking of a new room, Buzzard.”

She hadn’t even finished moving in, but doing it felt right. He said so to her.

“And before I even told you anything. You were really sure of your… potency, weren’t you?”

“It’s kind of my job to read the signs, isn’t it?” Rowan said as he opened the door and turned the lights on.

Rowan would love to brag and say that he did a full renovation, but it’d be a lie. He’d just emptied most of it out and filled it with things Aelin would appreciate—not that figuring that out was a hard task. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase that took over an entire wall became mandatory ever since Maisie got the idea that a couple of walls at her mother’s house were made of books instead of bricks. Another wall just for books, but this one got interrupted by the window, which he took advantage of to get a dark blue couch and make it a ‘reading nook’, as some folks on the internet call it. Apart from that, he just got a new desk—that matches the bookcases, since Aelin cares about this stuff—and fully emptied out Fenrys’ closet, since Rowan would have to own a total of half a shirt to make the one in the master room fit all of her stuff, from several work uniforms to the cocktail attire she wears once in a blue moon.

Rowan was pointedly not looking at Aelin, and taking a second look at his work could only distract him so much from the fact that she was awfully quiet. Shit. Did he not get enough bookcases? Rowan was afraid that might happen.

When he dared take a look, her expression put him off. Aelin’s eyes looked unusually shiny, and her chin wobbled in a way that sent a jolt of fear through him.

“I got the wrong shade of wood, didn’t I?”

“No! Baby, I love it.” Her chin wobbled. “I love it so much. Everything, really. It’s just…” she quickly dabbed at her eyes with her fingers and cleared her throat. “Sorry, hormones.”

Aelin finally looked him in the eye and said, “I just had other plans for this room.”

“Like what?”

She stared at him like he was the one being unreasonable. “Like a nursery, Rowan.”

In a way, she was right. Eventually, when the time was right, they’d need a nursery. But right now, they had an empty room and a lot of books in need of one. 

“I know.” Rowan squeezed her hand, a flicker of excitement running through him at the mention of his future with Aelin. “But we have time before that.”

“Does less than seven months feel like a long time to you?”

Rowan felt his brows creasing. Less than seven—

His eyes widened.

The speed in which he took a step back to examine the seriousness in Aelin’s expression was nothing compared to his heartbeat’s pace.

“You’re not.” 

“Rowan, you just told me it was pretty obvious—not ten minutes ago.”

“I was talking about depression!”

“Depression!?” 

Rowan paused. Tentatively, he added, “Your depressive episode…?”

“Honey, why on earth would you think I’m depressed?”

“You’ve been so tired.”

She pointed at her lower belly. “Exactly.”

“And you changed all your medication.”

“Exactly!”

Rowan blinked.

Oh, shit.

He took a step back. And another.

“Rowan? Are you alright?”

Not again. He was absolutely not doing this shit again. Blindly, he opened the door behind him.

“Rowan Whitethorn, you are not leaving this room right now. This is so not the response you’re giving me after I tell you I’m preg—“

“Wait. Just—” he gave her a pleading look “—wait a minute. You didn’t tell me anything yet.”

She crossed her arms, eyes hard. “I’m pretty sure I did.”

“You want to trust me with this. You didn’t tell me anything yet. You’ll agree with me when I come back.”

“You have five minutes to put yourself together before I kick you out for the night.” When Aelin checked the time on her phone, her movements were as stiff as her jaw. 

And then he ran. 

First to the garage, where the ladder was. He did stumble over a box or two and made too much noise for the late hour, but Aelin’s clock was running. Then, he took it to their bedroom, thankful that she decided to stay in the spare room for what he was about to do.

Rowan set the ladder next to the curtain and climbed it until he could reach the top. He unscrewed the finial at the very end and checked the curtain pole—more precisely, the jewelry baggie he hid inside it. There, laid the not-so-new possession that could bankrupt a small country—or at least Rowan’s bank account.

After that, he kneeled before the bottom of his closet and retrieved the red velvet ring box, since it didn’t fit inside the curtain rail. Rowan had no idea how Aelin believed him when she learned he was using a fancy jewelry box to keep his spare keys, but he was glad the small white lie worked in his favor.

When you share a closet with someone as clever as his Fireheart, doing a task such as hiding a wedding ring forces the mind to chew through its own skull to gouge out creativity.

Checking his phone, his five minutes were almost out.

Once again, Rowan ran. He yanked the bedroom door open, and took a sharp turn to meet her by the couch where she sat. However, the mix of his speed, spin and fuzzy mind was the perfect combination to send him tumbling towards the ground before he reached her.

“Rowan!” she shouted as soon as his hip hit the floor, standing up to aid him.

“Stay there,” he said with one hand up and another clutching at his side as he sat on the floor, wincing at the bite of pain.

She stood before him as he commanded, but still studied him carefully, watchful. “Does it hurt?”

“It 's nothing.”

“Honey, you need to be more careful. Your bones aren’t getting any stronger at this age.”

A bark of laughter. “Did you just call me old?”

She shrugged. “Just statistics.”

Rowan abandoned his post-fall sitting position and got on one knee, retrieving the small velvet box from his sweatpants’ pocket, heart on his throat.

When he dared to glance at her, Aelin looked exactly the same as she did a second ago—frozen as a picture. Her lack of reaction freaked him out, but it was too late to retreat.

“Aelin,” he started, then swallowed the lump in his throat. He tried again, “My beloved Fireheart…”

Her mind must’ve catched up with her surroundings, because she straightened herself and stared at him expectantly.

Rowan’s mind went blank.

“Is it a surprise that I’ve kept this ring for months, but couldn’t come up with a speech?”

She shook her head to confirm her lack of surprise, giggling, but it was cut short. “Months?” she asked, frowning. “How many months? We’ve been together for four.”

“Fireheart,” he continued and cleared his throat, not willing to answer her. 

His nerves got the best out of him and he let out a frazzled chuckle. “This is so soon.”

“Time’s a social construct, no need to restrict ourselves to that.” Aelin aimed at a joke, but the emotion welled in her close-lipped smile betrayed the levity behind it.

Rowan placed a brief kiss on her knuckles. “I have this… longing for you. It’s soul-consuming, and there’s no time barriers to it. I’ve longed for you since before I met you. I longed for you when you hated me, I long for you every hour you’re not by my side. But right now, even together, ‘longing’ doesn’t even scratch the surface of how I feel about marrying you—which is why I’m beginning to accept that it won’t ever stop. The more this yearning shifted from an emotion I once ran from into one I now cherish, the more certain I became that this longing for you is my fate, Aelin.”

He supported the hand still holding the box on his knee and leaned to grab Aelin’s hand with his free one. With his eyes closed, Rowan summoned the endless reverence he felt and poured it into kissing her knuckles, head bent.

He looked back up and, without releasing her hand, continued, “I might not be the best man you’ll ever find, but I’m the one who’ll try the hardest to do right by you. I love you. All day, every day. I loved you when I couldn’t tell love was right in front of my face—but now that I know it, there’s no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”

“Fireheart, will you allow me the honor of becoming your husband, to serve and love you for as long as I live?”

A quick blinking and the slight, soundless motion of her agape mouth were the only tells she was conscious.

The short air supply he was getting was probably the reason behind his lightheadedness. If this stretched for any longer, he might need a heart monitor and a cardiologist before Aelin gave him an answer.

Rowan cleared his throat. “...Please?”

It took a second longer before she snapped awake. “Don’t say that!”

Rowan begged Mala this wasn’t a ‘no’. He might need an ambulance for real.

“Don’t say what?”

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Don’t say that!”

Rowan frowned. Her cryptic blank expression was easier to understand than this. “Why are you mad?”

“Because of course I’ll marry you! Saying ‘please’ is just—that’s ridiculous.” Aelin said while dropping to her knees before him, then yanked his face to hers and kissed his lips in a near-violent caress. “I—” Another aggressive peck. “—I love you so much. I’ll marry you a million times over.”

Ease came before joy—Rowan’s entire body relaxed. He wished he could give her a post-proposal movie-worthy kiss, but it wouldn’t work with all that relief rushing out of his lungs and mouth right now.

“Good,” he said, nodding. “Good.” While putting the ring on her finger, he joked, “That was just a formality, actually. It’s not like I’m letting you go anywhere, love.”

She laughed. “So possessive.”

“You better think this through, Fireheart. I won’t get any better once I make you my wife.”

She let out a mocking resigned sigh. “I guess I can live with that.”

Aelin’s new reading nook had enough space for one and a half to cuddle, so she led him there, made him lay down first and set herself on top of him. She hovered over him, forearms braced on each of his side, and it only took him half a mind to cup her face and kiss her.

His entire existence narrowed to Aelin, her thighs straddling his and their tongues tangled as his chest heated and melted, overwhelmed with one of the most vital half-hour spans of his life.

Their millionth kiss. The first of the rest of their lives, executed as urgently as if it was their last.

He loved her.

He loved her.

He loved her.

Aelin caressed his cheek and peered at him, eyes shiny and her gorgeous, swollen lips twisted into a watery smile. That look on her face—it made him more silly than any love declaration she could ever make.

They held each other’s gazes in a silent conversation, soliloquies and odes and oaths translated into the flow of photons that passed between them and allowed the conversation between turquoise and pine-green irises.

She stroked his cheek and something caught her eye. Aelin giggled.

“You’re quite the decent jewel shopper, Whitethorn.” She kept smiling at her ring, then laid her head on his chest to comfortably move the diamond on her finger and watch it catch the light. 

Rowan was merely window-shopping wedding rings—a pastime he did to try to resist the urge to buy one when it was soon—when he saw it. An emerald cut diamond, as they call it, with an extravagance in its size that balanced the tastefully minimalistic design. 

“You know I’d marry you if you proposed with a cereal box ring, right? I had my answer ready before you bought this tectonic plate.”

Rowan snorted. And she had the gall to say that he was the dramatic one in this relationship.

This engagement.

Truth was, Rowan knew he didn’t have to—the way he gleefully mangled his savings shocked him more than the price itself.

He’s always had the habit of saving money, but even though it was natural for him, there’s always been plans for it as well. The list grew and changed as Rowan did, going from buying gym supplements—that he hid from his mother—in his teenage years to buying a house once free military housing isn’t an option for him anymore, and it was safe to say that spending so much—an amount that symbolized enormous time and effort from him—into an overpriced stone has never made it into the list.

Until her.

That was just a small one of the several ways Aelin changed his life and worldview.

Rowan kissed the top of her head. “I only care that you’re my wife now.”

“I’m not!” she said, laughing.

“You are. We already agreed to it, and I don’t think letting the government know is more important than that.”

“I’m glad I enjoyed my half-hour engagement, then. Shortest in history, if I had to bet.”

“I told you I’m not good with the timing thing.” Rowan didn’t sound apologetic in the least.

Aelin chuckled and buried her face in his chest, grinning against it. His body was half into cozy mode when she perked up, jumping in a way that she was still side-lying, but now with her forearm supporting her torso raised beside him.

“Oh! There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Okay?” Rowan’s tone portrayed his confusion.

It took her a second as she regarded him while biting her lip before Aelin said, “I’m pregnant.”

His grin was slow and immediate. “By Mala’s embers!” Rowan exclaimed, feigning surprise. And then he decided to just blatantly go with it and added, “What a surprise!”

Aelin threw her head back, her loud cackles filling the room in the most overwhelmingly fulfilling way. 

When she first told him, Rowan felt frustrated he didn’t get to execute the plan of marrying her before getting pregnant again, hence his odd first reaction. However, now he realized how silly that was, even if he still appreciated Aelin pretending to tell him after.

Emotion melted his features into a soft smile. “A really damn good surprise.”

“We didn’t plan for it.”

“We also weren’t actively avoiding it.” A pregnancy so soon was surprising, but Rowan wasn’t about to play dumb. They did treat condoms as an afterthought to the point in which it was just a matter of time. Especially with their frequency, he recalled with no amount of male satisfaction. “Maisie was a surprise too, and having her is pretty amazing, right?”

“Yes,” she said with a chuckle. “And Maisie was a whole different level of unplanned.”

Having a baby (1) with a man she worked with, (2) that she wasn't supposed to be sleeping with, (3) while being in a relationship with another man—Rowan didn’t think a baby could be more unplanned than Maisie, and look at them now.

She hummed. “I might be getting on birth control after this one. I don’t want to be that couple with 11 surprise babies that weren’t really a surprise.”

“Gods,” he cursed while protectively holding her belly. “Will you at least let this one come out before deciding on the sperm cell genocide?”

Aelin’s quivering lips betrayed her seriousness. “I mean it.”

“All right, no 11 kids. Got it,” he agreed, as serious as he could be. “But if you want twelve, I can make it to major before kid #5. That’s a big paycheck, baby.” 

She bumped his nose. “In your dreams, Not-A-Major Whitethorn.”

“You think I’m joking?” he challenged, joking. “Just you wait until the 12th Galathynius-Whitethorn comes and I’m lieutenant colonel. I’ll fit 12 more in my pocket.” 

Aelin leaned down to kiss him, but it got messy due to their laughing, so they resigned to a few pecks.

“I love you,” she said, placing a trail of kisses on his lip, cheek and nose.

“I love you.” Rowan tilted her face and kissed her thoroughly now that the mood had sobered. “And two or twelve, you call the shots.”

She raised her brows. “I never thought I wouldn’t.”

Mala forbid a man tries to show some support.

A loud clatter echoed over the silent house, alerting both of them, and it sounded a lot like the broom they placed outside Maisie’s door as a noise trap.

A softer, squeaky sound followed, the confirmation they needed—the typical sound of a door hinge that was purposefully left unoiled.  

Maisie was awake.

Both of them jumped off the couch to find Maisie in the hallway, right outside their bedroom. 

“Did you have a bad dream, Mais?” Rowan asked.

She looked between their bedroom door and the spare room’s, likely confused about their location, but she had more pressing matters to discuss.

“Tooth fairy is late.”

Shit. Between a new baby and the proposal, he completely forgot about it.

“Maisie,” Aelin warned in her soft mom tone. “Were you trying to catch Tooth Fairy?”

“No,” the little girl blatantly lied.

Rowan walked into her room and found a stolen Alexa from the kitchen. When he opened his phone to check the history? A request to be woken up in the middle of the night.

“Tooth Fairy isn’t late, you wanna know why?” Aelin asked their sheepish-looking daughter. “When she visits kids, she starts with the ones who don’t make a fuss when it’s time to brush their teeth—and you, Maisie Whitethorn, are at the very bottom of the list.” 

The little girl’s eyes widened, as she probably reconsidered the last five and a half years of her life—or whatever she could remember of it.

“But she’ll still come tonight, right?”

Aelin regarded their overeager daughter and softened. “Of course she will,” she confirmed with the satisfaction of someone who not only got away with their own slip, but also turned it into a learning opportunity for Maisie.

Evil genius.

He couldn’t wait to marry her.

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[hazbinshusk]

18 or 29 with blitz please🤍

prompt #29: a kiss to the back of the hand.

“How d’ya know ya won’t like it if ya don’t try it?” Blitzø insists, scurrying along at your heels. You sigh; he’s been bugging you for the last forty – you glance at the watch on your wrist – seven minutes about trying out his latest kink-of-the-week, and while his eagerness is kind of endearing, he’s starting to get on your nerves. Just a little bit.

“Satan, Blitz,” you roll your eyes, blowing past the others and making your way into the conference room. While Blitzø had absolutely no qualms about having these conversations in front of your co-workers and his daughter, you like to at least pretend you have some semblance of privacy in the workplace. “Would you let it go? At least while we’re at work?”

“Noooope!” he shakes his head. “If I do that, you’re gonna distract me and I’ll never get an answer.

“Damn,” you deadpan, flouncing into your usual seat. “You’ve seen through my insidious plan.”

Blitzø sniggers, rounding the table and wrapping the end of his tail around the arm of the chair. He tugs it, turning the chair towards him.

“C’mon…” he taunts, leaning over you, caging you in with a hand on each arm of the chair. “You know you can’t say ‘no’ to me.”

You scoff, pushing him away, and you try and fail not to smile when he laughs again. He wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly and his smile widens when you do laugh despite yourself. You lean forward in your seat, hooking your finger under his chin and drawing him into a kiss. He melts into it, his tail waving happily behind him. You let the kiss linger for a few wonderful moments, your tongue sliding against his, before sitting back again.

Blitzø blinks, the punch-drunk smile on his face shifting into something more devilish. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

You roll your eyes again, exhaling an exasperated breath. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Well…” he draws out the word with a snicker, raising an eyebrow snidely. “There’s something you can do about that, isn’t there?”

You scoff, shoving at his shoulder before he grabs your arm and pulls you into another kiss. He pushes up against you, forcing your knees apart with his hips, cupping your face in his hands. You nip at his bottom lip, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Bitch.”

You smirk at the lack of venom, the hint of affection, in his voice. “Ass.”

“You fuckin’ love it.”

“Do I?”

He smirks, pinching your thigh. “And I bet your ass that you’d get all giddy and cum hungry over this, too, you little tease.”

“Oh, for fuck… I never said I wouldn’t like it.” you say with a sigh. “I just… you could romance me a little, y’know? Instead of just blurting out your horny-ass ideas in the middle of Hellbucks at eight-thirty in the morning.”

“Ohhhh…” he drags out, raising an eyebrow in a way that makes you pretty sure that he’s entirely missed your point. “Why didn’t you say so…”

“Blitz, what—?” you ask as he lowers himself onto one knee in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. His eyebrow is still arched devilishly, and you feel yourself flush at the tableau he’s created between the two of you. You glance hastily over your shoulder towards the door. “Would you get up before someone walks—”

“Shh…” he hushes you, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He lets it linger for a moment, his eyes holding yours. He smiles when you blush. “I’m doin’ a romance here, you sappy bitch.”

You choke on a laugh.

“Now,” he clears his throat, putting his free hand on his chest, the picture of a gentleman. “Will you, please, do me the honor…”

“Blitz.”

“Do me the honor,” he repeats pointedly. “Of wearing a fucking strap and fucking me in my ass?”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø