#the second one nearly made steam pour out of my ears

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together: 

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.” 

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest. 

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could. 

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied. 

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?” 

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.” 

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to. 

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well.  With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through. 

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years. 

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you. 

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

 “Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.” 

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door. 

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this. 

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you. 

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning. 

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building. 

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms. 

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked. 

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head. 

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.  

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you. 

“I said enough,” he snapped. 

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?” 

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said. 

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before. 

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth. 

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her. 

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team. 

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world. 

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.” 

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm. 

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone. 

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile. 

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said. 

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair. 

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory. 

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them. 

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.   

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.” 

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother. 

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there. 

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened. 

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.” 

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.” 

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him. 

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone. 

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now. 

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.  

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said. 

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow. 

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.” 

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Buuut…?” 

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips. 

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Read More in the BMD-verse:

There are several more sequel stories listed under the Break Me Down Series Masterlist. Next up is a one-shot taking place a shortly after Part 17, and before this Epilogue:

Summary: You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.

▶️ Next Story: In the Dark

Before you keep reading, please let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

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[oddsconvert]

I really wanna see Joshy being forced to stay awake for days. He gets so desperate to sleep that he even sweet talks Felix, ya know, desperate times.

Exhaustion clings to Josh like a leech. It feeds off his vigour and drains away any remnant of lucidity. He teeters on the edge of collapse; his body totally spent and mind shrouded in fog. Just as his heavy eyelids flutter shut for what must be the millionth time, a shock of electricity winds around his throat like a serpent, jolting him awake with a warbled cry. Josh’s hands fly to his throat, tingling and near-numb fingers scratch and desperately rip at the collar strapped to his neck. He chokes on a silent scream as hot-pain streams through his veins. 

“Eyes on me,” Felix orders with a sickly-sweet grin, he fidgets with the shock collar remote in his palm before pocketing it. “Oh, am I boring you, darling?”

Josh can barely see Felix through the tears brimming his bloodshot eyes. His jittering body slumps and his head lolls against his chest, drool slipping from his lips.

“Please -” Josh croaks, his voice coarse like sandpaper. He gulps down a sob. “Please - I - I can’t-”

-can't stand to stay awake for a second longer. Countless days and sleepless nights have blurred and bled into one waking nightmare. Josh can't remember when he was last allowed to simply fall into the sweet surrender of sleep, nor can he remember how it feels to just let his eyes slip shut and his brain switch off - his only true escape from Felix.

It had never occurred to him that sleep was a luxury that he could have denied…

“You can. You will. Remember this is your choice, my sweet. Not mine.”

What’s left of Josh’s mind races. It doesn’t make a lick of sense. He isn’t afforded choice, that was a long-learned lesson, taught through blood, sweat and tears. If he had the freedom of choice, he wouldn’t be here, huddled in the corner - fatigue eating away at him. The other night, when Josh begged Felix through breathless, hiccupping sobs that he didn’t want to sleep with Felix, he couldn’t sleep with Felix, he was terrified of the thought of going to bed and what that would bring…did he have a choice then?

Josh’s eyes suddenly and uncontrollably roll into the back of his head, his body growing limp once again. Felix clicks his fingers against the bridge of Josh’s nose to snap him back. Josh groans in weary frustration. 

“If - If you… llloved me, you’d let me sl-sleep-” Josh mumbles without a thought to the words leaving his lips. He doesn’t clock the way Felix sees red in that moment, steam nearly blowing out his ears.

“Stop that,” Felix snarls. Fists clenched tight. “What have we talked about, Josh? About you manipulating me-”

How is it that Josh always winds up the villain and never the victim? His attempts at survival and bids for peace deemed calculated and cunning? If he had the wherewithal, maybe he’d think of his mum saying it’s like “the pot calling the kettle black” and snicker to himself… instead he blinks blankly and at a snail's pace.

“You know the deal,” Felix chastises, “It’s quite simple, really. Nearly as simple as you-”

That hits Josh like a blow. Like a sucker punch to the gut. He slumps further against the wall, his head rolling back as if his neck were made of lead.

“You sleep with me, or not at all. It’s your choice, baby. Deprive yourself into a slow madness… or just let me hold you through the night.”

Josh knows. He’s not the fucking idiot Felix makes him out to be. He knows deep down that he’ll never win the battle of the wills - not against Felix. He’s grasping onto consciousness by a string: his eyes feel like acid has been poured into them - his body feels like it might crumble to dust. Josh has to give Felix what he wants, to get what he needs. It’s a transaction. Nothing more. That’s what he’ll tell himself. 

A memory foam mattress. Warm blankets. A night’s sleep. Is it worth it?

He forces himself onto all fours, even as his muscles scream and throb in protest. He crawls across the filthy floor until he reaches Felix and crumbles at Felix’s feet. His pounding head rests against Felix’s leg and he dares to close his eyes. A chesty sigh stretches into a yawn.

“I-I’m sorry…for-for playing up…” Josh mutters miserably. “I-I don’t know what came over me - I don’t know why I do this, I just -....take me to bed? Please?” He blinks up at Felix, batting his long but tear-drenched lashes.

Felix hums, carding his hand through Josh’s locks of hair, “Change of heart, my beautiful boy?”

Josh nods, but it just makes his nausea increase ten-fold. “I - I want to sleep…with you. In our bed. I wa-want you to hold me…through the night.”

For a second, Josh thinks that maybe Felix is right - he might be manipulative. He’ll say whatever he has to, to get whatever he wants. He’s playing Felix like a fiddle and he prays it’s working. Josh pulls himself to his knees, his eyes shining at Felix and his hands together in supplication.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I’ll be so good. I’ll be…complaisant-”

“Complaisant?” Felix purrs, and he palms himself through his trousers. Josh has to fight back bile. But this is the price he has to pay. “You better not be teasing me, baby.”

“You’re too good to me,” Josh sniffles, “Too patient. I don’t deserve it-”

“No. You do not.”

Felix scoops Josh up into a bridal carry, as though he’s as light as a feather. It makes him feel so impossibly small and frail. The sudden swooping motion makes his stomach churn and the world twist. 

“And I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

[topgun-imagines]

An angst prompt?! Don’t tempt me with a good time

I would really love to see something with the line:

“i loved you, you used me.”

Calm filled the atmosphere. The first few days after Valentine’s Day were usually slow. After all, most people in relationships blew their flower budget before the 14th. This led to the shop being empty for most of the day. Your regulars still stopped by, men who would bring their partners flowers weekly and widowers bringing flowers to their passed-on loved ones.

These were the ones that gave you hope that love still existed. After the past few weeks, you weren’t so sure.

It was then that the small bell chimed above the door. You shovelled the last spoonful of leftover pasta into your mouth before you rushed out to the front to greet the customer. Distractedly, you fiddled with your apron as you walked around the corner. Oh, how you wished you would have been looking up.

When you lifted your head, there was a large, beaming smile on your face. It was gone within seconds.

Standing in front of you was Jake Seresin, the man who ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped all over it.

Your face hardened into stone in a matter of seconds. The pilot looked like a kicked puppy, but that didn’t stop the vicious words flowing from your mouth before you could stop them.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” You hissed the words through clenched teeth, damn near spitting on him. “Honestly, Seresin, what the hell is wrong with you? You think you can just walk in here like this after what you’ve done?”

Jake was standing in front of you, mouth gapping like a fish. During your rant, the pilot had no chance to explain himself, not that you would give him one anyway. You finally paused. At this point, steam was nearly pouring from your ears.

When he didn’t say anything, you raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, something that had changed since the break-up. That prompted him to speak. Your name was whispered quietly as he took a step forward.

With a scoff, you retreated behind your desk and began focusing once more on your pile of flower orders. It was then that he began speaking. From across your shop.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” That elicited a harsher scoff from you. Where did this man get the nerve?

“Hangman,” You never called him by his call-sign. That was enough for Jake to know that his chances were less than slim. “You do not get to do this. You do not get to come into my place of business to try and hash out your personal issues.” The only reason you paused was to suck in some air before you continued.

Ever so slowly, you set your pen down and walked around the counter. Once you were close enough, you jabbed your finger into his chest. “I loved you.” Your voice cracked and tears welled in your eyes.

Memories from the past came rushing back. Memories filled with nothing but laughter. Memories surrounding that one, fateful night. The night that you had come home, a week before Valentine’s Day, only for Jake to drop the bomb that he wanted a break. That he was no longer in love with you. As hard of a pill as it was to swallow, you had come to terms with the reality that Jake was never the man you thought he was. You had realized that everything, all the whispered ‘I love you’s’ and promises made meant nothing to him.

As hard as you tried, you couldn’t stop your finger from shaking. Regardless of that, your voice was firm.

Jake wasn’t one for crying. Hell, he hardly ever showed emotion. But as he stood in front of you, watching the consequences of his actions play out, he couldn’t stop the single tear from rolling down his cheek at your next words.

“And you used me.”

Thank you for the request anon! Send in some angst from this list :)

[jamesunderwater]

Water - a wolfstar microfic

Modern Coffee Shop AU ~ cw: mentions of suicide as a joke, mild transphobia, misgendering, dysphoria ~ word count: 1,499 ~ @wolfstarmicrofic

“I swear to god I’m going to kill myself if another customer starts giving me their order when all I’ve asked is ‘How are you.’” I made the joke even though I knew he’d hate it. Remus Lupin takes thoughts of my death very seriously, doesn’t even laugh when I say, ‘But my death will be Sirius!’

But I mean, no pun intended, I was Sirius about the comment.

Because, look, sometimes working in customer service feels like choosing between lying on asphalt naked on a boiling summer day and just sort of…walking into traffic just to make your headache go away. 

That didn’t make sense, I know that, but I’ve worked two double shifts in as many days and I’m icing both of my feet and I wasn’t trying to upset my best friend by talking about my death by my own hand, but a woman who was almost certainly named Lauren had just completely ignored my frantic Be with you in a moment! as I nearly poured oat milk all over myself for the fourth time today to start telling me about the lavender latte she wanted ‘grande size’ when I don’t work at a Starbucks. 

“It’s still not funny,” he’d said, too busy slowly pouring steamed milk into a mug to look me in the eye, but I knew exactly the expression he’d have used if he could. 

“Fine, I’m going to scream, Shut the fuck up and wait one goddamn second or get the fuck out of the store! if another customer starts giving me their order when all I’ve asked is ‘How are you.’ Better?” I was whispering fast and sharp in his ear, ignoring the next Lauren in line who was trying to catch my eye. 

He did look up at this, lifting a brow at me, his stupid mouth smirking just enough that only I’d notice. “Slightly.”

As my manager, maybe he should have preferred I opt for suicide, but Remus Lupin isn’t a capitalist pig like that.

The line was to the door, which meant muttering benign threats of bodily harm (to myself or the customers) was only going to delay my inevitable suffering. I moved on to the next Lauren, and the next, and then the Laurens and their Boyfriends, who were usually named John, and then the Laurens and their moms, who usually looked perturbed to be in a coffee shop run by weirdo queers and eyed the mustache coming in on my face and my round cheeks, noted my voice that had the rasp of a 14-year-old boy and the cadence of someone raised to be a woman pandering to societal standards (no matter how hard I tried to drop the sound of a question mark at the end of my sentence, or encouraged myself to talk like the concept of the name Brad), and evidently deduced that I was something rather than someone so once again answered, “How are you?” with a flat-toned, “Medium latte with nonfat milk,” without meeting my (queer) eye. 

I opened my mouth, taking in a very large breath in preparation for my verbal assault, when I felt a body swerving in beside me. “How are you?” Remus asked her again, and Lauren’s Mom blinked at being asked another question. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” her words were clippy, but at least he’d gotten an answer to the world’s most useless question. “Medium latte with nonfat milk, please.”

He’d even gotten a please. 

I went to the bathroom.

When I returned, Remus asked casually, “Switch spots?” and didn’t mention that I’d just left him alone with an endless line on a Saturday morning when we didn't have a mid-shift so that I could sulk in the bathroom for five minutes, because again, he isn’t a capitalist pig. And also, he is kind of a saint. 

So I made oat milk cappuccinos for people that asked us to put vanilla in them–in a cappuccino–for the next two hours until my brain slid out my ears, down my arms and into the espresso drain.

And then—

“Excuse me,” someone said in a tone that sounded very much like they did not care if anyone ever excused them, “I think she made my drink wrong. I was supposed to have a large oat milk latte. This is medium, and I’m pretty sure it’s whole milk.”

She made my drink wrong, she made my drink wrong, she made my drink wrong, my shoulders were so stiff they must have touched my ears. I looked down at my black tank top and my cut off shorts and my black doc martens and wondered if I should have washed my binders last night after all because maybe it wasn’t constricting my chest enough? I hadn’t even spoken, what did I do wrong? What did I do to earn she?

Remus leaned over the register, taking the cup from the customer. “He did not make your drink wrong. I called this drink out, a medium latte for Cathy. Your drink is a large oat milk latte for…” He checked the tickets waiting on the counter. “Helen?” The customer nodded, wide-eyed. “Yeah, your drink is still third in line.”

“Oh…” Helen sputtered, actively not looking at me. “I apologize, I didn’t realize.”

“Alright, well, we need to serve the next customer, so if you could just stand…” Remus gestured toward the other side of the bar, and Helen nodded, stepping back.

Even though the next person stepped forward, Remus turned to me. He didn’t ask with words, just his soft eyebrows. 

I shrugged. “One more hour, right?”

At least, in the last hour, the lobby area was so full that many people opened the door and walked right back out. My feet ached so much I had to bounce between them for a moment of relief, my back pain was flaring up from my binder, and the clattering sounds from multiple groups’ loud chatter mixed with the music playing over the speakers created the most grating noise I’ve possibly ever heard.

When Marlene and Dorcas got there to take over for us, I almost kissed them on their beautiful lesbian mouths. 

“That bad, huh?” Marls asked as she clocked in. 

“What?” I questioned.

“You didn’t make a quippy joke when I came in, didn’t make up a song about how hard the day was, didn’t compliment my new shoes. You’re truly dead inside, so it must’ve been a rough shift.”

“Could’ve been dead on the outside, but Remus wouldn’t allow it.”

“I’ll be thanking him for that, then.”

“You ready?” He came up from behind me, touching my elbow just slightly. Somehow, even after a grueling morning with no mid-shift on an overly warm Saturday when we could have been lying out on the grass somewhere getting actual vitamin D, Remus was smiling, and his eyes meant it.

Like I said. Saint.

When we got into his car, he started it and cranked the air, but didn’t move to leave the lot. Leaning back in his seat, his shoulders facing forward, he rolled his head to look at me. “Wanna talk about it?”

I didn’t. But I did. Mostly I wanted to be around him as long as possible.

“There’s not much to say, right? Whatever. I don’t pass, it is what it is.”

He didn’t say anything.

“It’s just so fucking annoying that you pass so well,” I said, not thinking about it, and only heard how it sounded a few moments after. I winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, just, like, that woman you took over for me with, she even said please to you, when she couldn’t be bothered with me at all. Like, she fully thought you were a cis guy! I just don’t understand what I have to do!” 

I hadn’t meant to get that worked up, but I’ll admit it now, I was nearly crying, the words clogging up my throat, each and every side glance and double take at the sound of my voice clawing its way out of the recesses of my disassociated mind. 

He reached a hand over the center console, hovering it over the hand I had resting on my water bottle, our silent way to ask, Can I touch you? I lifted my hand up to meet his in response.

“I’m sorry, Sirius. This part of transitioning just…sucks.” His fingers were warm resting directly over mine, and I think I stopped noticing the pain in my back, my feet, my mind as much. “It’ll get easier eventually, but–yeah, until then,” he pressed his hand more firmly against mine, “I’m here.”

Anyway, Prongs, I think what I’m trying to say is I might be falling in love with my coworker/boss/best friend, and, um, help?

(Also, god I want to quit my job.)

(Also also, like exactly how bad would it be if I gave myself three T shots in one sitting?)

Terrified, Tired, Still Icing My Feet, Padfoot

FIN

A/N: DO NOT take more HRT than is prescribed to you by your doctor, no matter how much you want to, trust me, I've done it and I only got chastised and fucked my system up a bit. Also, would you guys want to read more of this little fic? No idea where it'd go, but I am fond of any iteration of wolfstar, so naturally I've already fallen in love with them. (Which is a little self-absorbed of me since Sirius was....heavily based on my own experience.) That being said, I did want to say that the customers at my coffee shop are much better than this--this was really more emulating the experience of working for Starbucks. 😆 all the hugs to my trans sibs reading this <3

[ratcatcher0325]

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #27)

Happy March everyone!

Chapter #27. Natalie discovers why Alexander has summoned her home so quickly.

Previous: Chapter #26

Next: Chapter #28

Word Count: 5,700 Read Time: Approx. 44 mins

CW: adult language, angst 

Tag list: @gatlily @patrocolus3 @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien , @thegodmother007 , @honey-olive , @bittykimmy13 , @aceouttatime , @imvenusasaboy , @liminaldaze , @windshield-patent , @joxter-coded , @rosella35 , @narrans , @rubeau-art , @littlescaryinternetguy , @jae-from-discord , @kitn-underfoot , @secretly-small @writing-forever , @iinogongju , @tales-of-aestus-deactivated2023 , @itsgothgirlthyme , @make-me-giant , @reborrowing , @whatthisfemsheplikes

Btw, DM me if you wanna be added to the tag list!

___________________________________

A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #27: A Balm for the Mind

[Natalie’s POV]

I tore across my living room, ducked through the kitchen and raced down the short hallway to my bedroom door, before thrusting it open and practically tripping on the corner of my dresser, I finally managed to shove the bathroom door aside. As I pushed at the barrier separating me from the tiny man in my sink, I couldn’t help but feel a catch in my throat as fear trickled down my spine.

“A-Alexander? Are you there? Are you hurt? Are you okay? What was the big emergency? What do you need??” The words were pouring out of my mouth like a dam bursting forth, uncontrollable and overwhelming.

As I whipped around the corner, I heard him before I laid eyes on him. He didn’t miss a beat and the second I started shouting, he matched me with equal fervor, although the poor thing could never hope to match me in volume, “It’s about time, Natalie! Where were you??” That’s when my panicked gaze locked on to those familiar, tiny, blue eyes. There he was perfectly safe; this little life wading in the shallow pool of water in my sink basin. His left knee was bent, and tucked into his chest. His hair was wet, the roots darker than normal, as his locks stuck to his skull in an unkempt way, falling in tendrils into his eyes. He seemed… perfectly fine.

There was no blood, no scene of chaos, no cat, no disturbance of any kind, “Alexander what the fuck?? Is this your sick attempt at a joke?? I almost killed like three people just to get back—“

He cut me off with a hurried gesture before placing his index finger over his lips, and pointing at the ceiling with his other hand. His eyes followed the trajectory of the point. Was this part of the joke? Was he trying to scare me? I opened my mouth to demand an answer when he hurriedly shushed me. I stood there, baffled, utterly confused and beginning to get pretty ticked off, when it happened.

The sound was instantly recognizable: sharp, piercing, blunt. It was the chirp of the smoke detector begging for a battery swap. The disturbance made Alexander’s shoulders twitch as he immediately recoiled, groaning, as if at the end of his rope.

“…. Okay? Is, is that it?” Surely there was something I was missing here.

He leaned forward, rippling the water around him as he raised his brows, an utterly incredulous look on his face, “What do you mean ‘is that it’?? Do you have ears?? It’s grating! Did you not get my texts??—“ he was off on a tangent, but I couldn’t help the steam rising in my ears.

“Alexander!” That was a bit more forceful than I’d intended. He shut up, but flames still burned behind his eyes, “You made me lose my goddamn mind and literally almost murder someone, not to mention the copious traffic violations or the fact that my car is blocking a one way alley right now, because you had to listen to a mildly annoying sound for a few minutes??”

“First of all, Natalie, it started going off almost the moment you left. I’ve been suffering for nearly an hour at this point. Additionally, for both our sakes, I was attempting memory recall in regards to the vet, but that became instantaneously impossible the moment that godforsaken machine started its repetitive screech. I’ve got a splitting headache, I’m dehydrated, the water’s bone-chillingly cold and you forgot to give me any medication before you left on your oh-so-important errands so I am in rather significant pain. So please, please tell me, at the very least, you got the 9 volt battery I asked for and that you’ll save my auditory receptors from any more damage today.”

The poor little man had to shout over every one of those piercing chirps. I furrowed my brow and pouted my lip, “Oh! Oh you poor thing! I didn’t realize! Forty five whole minutes of pure agony, huh?” I placed my hand over my heart in mock concern. He was so absorbed in his own pity party he didn’t even realize I was being sarcastic.

“Yes! Yes!! It was truly awful. I sent an array of messages with detailed instructions…”

“And on top of all that, the water’s all cold and you weren’t even able to relax…”

“Precisely! I’m so glad you see it— wait—“ his eyes narrowed as he folded his arms over his chest, “You’re making fun of me aren’t you?”

“The little scholar cracks the case!” I shouldered the door frame, sporting a self-satisfied smile.

The little man rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the sink basin, “Natalie, please, you’ve put me through enough. Don’t pour salt in the wound.”

“I’ve put you—?? Little bastard, how many times do I have to emphasize I almost ran over a little old lady to get back here just for you to be a whiny bitch about a minor inconvenience?!”

“Well you don’t have to be so hyperbolic about it! You’re embarrassing yourself—”

I couldn’t help but raise my brow, “I genuinely wonder, sometimes, wether you can hear yourself speak…”

He sighed, catching my gaze, “The alarm… please. I’m about to jump out of my skin. And… well, I can’t exactly get it myself…” he broke eye contact and craned his neck to the ceiling far above his little frame.

“I should let it chirp all night. All it would take is a pair of earplugs and I’d be blissfully unaware.”

If looks could kill…

For someone who could barely wrap himself around my thumb, he could serve up quite the threatening glare. We locked off for a while, neither of us giving ground.

Finally, I shook my head. Who was I kidding? I let my shoulders drop from my ears. I couldn’t say no to him. If anyone was wrapped up, it was me around his tiny finger. You’re lucky I like you, little nightmare.

I approached the sink, he was still stiff and skeptical, unsure if he’d won this battle. I dipped my hand into the water, which, in his defense, was rather cold, “Come here… let’s get you warmed up…” My thumb moved to cover his chest, while my fingers curled around his back. He opened his mouth to speak, resisting my grip with tiny but determined hands, “… and I’ll get the alarm, just give me a second. I can’t do two things at once…” his lips pressed into a thin line at that. At least he finally shut up for just a second!

The pads of my fingers squeezed around his shivering torso, as I lifted him easily into the air. He gripped the pad of my thumb, wet hair in his eyes. I quickly met the left side of his body with my opposite hand, clutching a washcloth. He hadn’t quite managed a full on thank you, but I heard a little murmur of delight escape his lips when the warmth of my hands and the towel started to thaw him out. I couldn’t help it, even after he’d just pissed me off five seconds ago, I couldn’t keep myself from brushing his hair aside with the tip of my thumb. He could feel my gaze on him and the touch caught his attention enough to look up at me.

At almost the same instant that his clear, blue irises locked with my golden-green ones, his little face flushed with color and he suddenly seemed to find the countertop far beneath his feet to be a significantly more interesting subject to stare at. I, too, felt my temperature rise as I was compelled to work on the alarm and let the little man be by himself for a moment. He said not a word and neither did I. Setting him down in a bundle of fabric on the counter, I clamored up, one foot on the lip of the bathtub, the other on the closed lid of the toilet, “You happy, Your Majesty? I’m finally completing your Royal decree!” I shouted over a chirp which was now very much in my ear and made my head buzz.

He leaned forward, his left shoulder exposed, his palm flat against the cool surface of the countertop. He was watching me intently, “Are you sure that’s the safest way to do that?” Was that concern I heard in his tiny voice?

“Ahh, sure, I’ve done it like this a bunch of times. I don’t own a step-stool and I’m never gonna manage to fit a chair in here so… this is fine…” I turned my attention to fidgeting with the grey plastic circle with its blinking LED light and awful noise making. I managed to pull it from the ceiling with an easy twist and pinch on each side, but as I went to shift my weight to jump down, my foot pressed into the rounded curve of the bathtub, slipped, and I lost my balance.

“Natalie!” A little bundle of fabric jerked forward, arm outstretched. In the next heartbeat, I caught myself, gripping the counter in front of me and stopping my fall. We locked eyes for a moment before I hopped down.

When my feet returned to steady ground, I ripped the dead battery from the inner compartment of the smoke detector. During this, he’d settled back down, his good leg dangling over the cliff’s edge that was the lip of the counter. I placed the now, thankfully, silent hunk of plastic beside the sink and kneeled down, resting my chin in my hands, gazing at the back of a tiny, wet mess of blonde hair. After a few moments of silence, he turned over his shoulder, irritated, “What???”

“Don’t play dumb with me… you know what…”

He immediately turned away again, running fingers through his wet locks, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” he practically mumbled into the fabric. I slid my finger across his sternum, hooking his chin and pulling his face towards me. He was flushed bright pink. I melted a little.

“What was that? You have to speak up…” he shoved at my finger, shaking his head and trying his damndest to hide his blush, I continued, a smile blossoming across my face, “You were worried about me! You give a shit, don’t you? All this stone cold bullshit? It’s an act and I’ve finally caught you red handed. You do have a heart in there after all….” I prodded his little chest, he rocked back and immediately batted at my finger, his brow furrowing and his lips tightening as he snarled. I was unfazed, I had him right where I wanted him, “You actually cared! It was all over your face! You, like, reached out and everything! Little cold-hearted grumpy man cares about this big dumb human!”

“I was not! I… I don’t! Well, I mean— You just frightened me, is all, I-I thought you were going to fall right on top of me!”

*****

She wasn’t letting go of this easily was she? How irritatingly predictable. Humans. They never could resist a chance to tease us if they got the opportunity, it seemed. Her gaze was inescapable, those warm, golden eyes sparkling with mischief. My face and chest felt hot… she beamed as she took in another breath, no doubt to continue this relentless game, when there was a sudden commotion outside.

The sound of a car horn blaring in long, irritating bursts and the voice of a human male shouting something incomprehensible but no doubt, angry, ricocheted through the walls.

“Shit! My car! I’m blocking someone in… hold on, I’ll be right back, okay? Dry yourself off. I’ve got something for you when I come back… even though you kinda don’t deserve it now for being a dramatic little dick a few minutes ago…” She rose as she spoke, crossing the cavern of space between the counter and the threshold in the blink of an eye.

“I was not—“ she disappeared beyond the threshold, paying my response no mind. I heard the jangle of keys being snatched up, as I shouted as loudly as I was capable, “Don’t call me a dick! It’s neither accurate nor sophisticated!” Her footsteps faded down the hall. Alone again.

I sat for a few moments in the blissfully quiet bathroom, my left leg bouncing against the counter’s edge. My better judgment told me not to lean too far over the edge. The drop was much too dangerous for me. I busied myself with wiping the beads of water from my skin. Some so big, I could pick them up in my hands and they’d keep their shape. I squeezed the moisture from my hair and had just about freed my right leg from the suffocating mess of cling wrap it was trapped in, when the tranquil quiet of this cramped, yet cavernous bathroom was broken.

I heard the slam of a car door, sounds of a man’s voice, then, a woman’s, even more argumentative and certainly louder than him. I cracked a smile. What a strange creature that human was. Next was the sound of car tires on gravel, then another honk and I swear I could hear “Fuck you, asshole!” In an enraged female voice. As the sounds of the quick-lived altercation faded from earshot, I pulled the cloth around myself, keenly aware of my nudity in this chilly bathroom. She’d plucked me up, with a sort of familiar nonchalance of picking up a toothbrush or a favorite pencil.

I found myself wondering for the very first time just what she thought of me. What kept her looking after me? I half expected any other human would have tossed me out a long time ago. Why hadn’t she given up? Maybe something really was psychologically wrong with her. It wouldn’t be a giant leap. It would certainly explain her wildly oscillating emotionality.

She’d said she had something for me, right before she left. I couldn’t imagine what that might be. I prayed to nothing in particular that it wasn’t another godforsaken polyester glittery nightmare shirt. Or some similar humiliation. I wouldn’t hesitate for a second to sink my teeth as hard as I could into the softest part of her flesh I could find if that were the case.

Still, it wasn’t possible her errands had been on my behalf, was it? Surely not. I remembered back to the first time I’d stood on this counter, stripped naked, shivering and soaked from a bath, and she’d insisted I wear that unicorn covered tie-dye embarrassment. She’d balked at my request for respectable clothes, then. Now that I thought about it, she hadn’t seemed keen to spend money on me at all. Well, that was out of the question.

So, food then? If so, the timing was right, I was half starved and in need of a round of medication. No more time to ponder, however, because the sounds of a door opening and slamming told me she’d soon stand before me to carry me to the next unknown adventure.

“… Son of a fucking bitch!” Yes, that was Natalie alright, always such… sophisticated… language. I heard the sound of something settling on a surface just outside the door and then there she was, standing…. Well, more like towering, before me. I leaned back on my elbow to see her better, as she blustered, “That guy was such a fucking asshole…” a palm came to rest a few inches from my left side.

“Well, you were committing a traffic violation, weren’t you?? I think he had some justification for responding in a negative—“

“Nope. No. Shut your face. Shut it right now. I’m trying to do something nice for you, don’t say another word or I’ll change my mind.” She hovered a finger over my chest, I scowled, but, nevertheless acquiesced to her desires. I went silent and pressed my lips into a thin line. I never took kindly to being told what to do, but I understood after the smoke detector debacle, I could stand to give her a little ground. She suddenly sighed, as if she’d been holding her breath, “Oh my god! I can’t believe that actually worked! Guilt tripping can really be an effective tool when dealing with an Alexander; noted!”

I rolled my eyes as heavily as I could while her fingers pressed gently into my back and she lifted me off the counter. She balanced my injured leg along the length of her pinky as her thumb pressed the fabric of the washcloth against my sternum. I had to give her credit, she was getting quite good at handling me gently. She hardly ever gave me whiplash from moving me too quickly or bruised my skin with too much pressure between her fingers. My heart didn’t drop to my stomach every time her hands came near. What a relief to my cardiovascular system.

I peered up, seeking some sort of hint as to what was coming next in those bright eyes. I loathed surprises. If a human told you they had a surprise for you, it was often some fresh form of humiliation or torture for their own pathetic amusement. And yet, despite the instinctual alarm bell ringing at the base of my skull, some other part of me dared to believe this was something good. Not a smart move to set yourself up for disappointment, Alexander. Yet, even as I chastised my own train of thought, a glimmer of hope remained. Maybe, just this once, I’d accrued enough karmic positivity or whatever forces of the universe were out there, to get something good coming back to me.

Gingerly, she sat me down on her dresser as she leaned back on the corner of her bed, directly across from me. To my left was some sort of plastic shopping bag, looking bulky and misshapen from the contents inside. I returned my gaze to her eyes, questioning, curious. She beamed down at me, clearly excited, “Okay, okay. Close your eyes—“

“Why? This isn’t some sort of payback for earlier is it?” I crossed my arms.

“No! Just… c’mon just close your eyes!” She groaned and rolled her own.

“I don’t know—“

“Dammit, little man! Let me have this! I’m trying to make this fun,” she leaned in, her chin resting on the silky, wood grain, her fingers closing in to sweep my hair from my face and rest lightly on my exposed, bare shoulder. I felt the heat rising in my chest again, just as it had earlier when she’d held me, “No more grumpy Alexander. Please? Let’s have a good day, okay? You deserve something nice. After all you’ve been through. Trust me. Will you trust me for five seconds?”

I swallowed. She was being genuine, I could tell. She’d gone out of her way, for me? “F-fine. Okay. Yes.” She broke into another sparkling grin, her eyes alight with the giddiness of a child. Her enthusiasm was infectious, I was suddenly abuzz with anticipation.

“Well?” She seemed rather impatient.

“Well, what??” I jumped, wondering if I’d stared at her just a bit too long. Before I had a chance to comprehend the situation further, the pad of an index finger was coming straight for my face, with all its unique swirls on the pad coming into crystal clear focus before blurring as she swiped down from my brow, along the bridge of my nose.

“Close your damn eyes, Alexander!” She giggled, exasperated.

Her touch tickled and warmed me at the same time. It was about the width of my whole head, after all, “Right! Yes! S-sorry.” I sealed my eyes shut as I listened to the rustle of plastic and crinkle of… paper? It sounded like she was unwrapping something.

My heart thrummed against my chest. I didn’t want to come across as some naive little fool, but… I’d never exactly been given presents like this before. Certainly, I’d been given clothing and some necessities but not without earning them first. I’d never been given something for nothing. There was a clatter of the mystery item settling on the dresser top. Something hard, and lightweight, just to my left.

“Ta-da! You can look now…”

When I opened my eyes, I saw two pieces of furniture before me. Closest was a cherry stained, swivel desk chair, with curved armrests and an upholstered seat made of rich, green leather, and just beyond that, a desk, stained the same, with gold pulls on the drawers. I couldn’t quite see the desktop from my downward angle on the floor. But these were unlike any furniture items I’d ever seen: these were scaled to me. I blinked rapidly, swiveling my head between these two objects and the hazel irises that were trained on me. My brow twitched and furrowed.

“Well? What do you think?” She was hungry for my response, her face flushed, eyes wide.

I couldn’t help but shrink back, “You can’t be serious. These… they can’t be for me…”

“You see any other little scholars standing at about five inches around here? Cuz I don’t…” she made ridiculous motions of peering around the room with her outstretched hand shielding her brow.

I couldn’t help cracking a smile before shaking my head, “N-Natalie…”

She wouldn’t even let me finish, before leaning down, “Here, you want a closer look? Come here, test it out for yourself. Let’s see if it gets the Little Nightmare seal of approval. Can I pick you up?”

I nodded slightly, a little dazed as her fingers wrapped around my middle and I found myself settling into the chair. My spine went board-straight as I breathlessly slid my hand across the upholstered, leather surface of the desk. It had a small embossed inlay of diamonds that gave it a beautiful oscillating pattern in the center.

In spite of myself, I felt my throat suddenly tighten as my brow furrowed deeply. I gripped the edge of the desk with all might, staring daggers into its surface until my shoulders started to tremble.

She shuffled close, her left palm cupping around where I sat, “Alexander? Hey…. Hey, what's wrong? Do you hate it? Did I do something wrong? You don’t have to like it, you can be honest with me…”

As I turned to face her, my image of those eyes clouded with worry, was obscured almost entirely with tears I couldn’t hold back, despite my best efforts, “I… I’ve never… I’ve never sat in a chair… before…”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

“It’s beautiful, Natalie. It’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you. Deeply, truly, thank you. I can really have this?” I’m embarrassed to say my lip trembled.

She smiled as her own eyes grew misty, “Again, do you see any other little men around here to compete with? Let me know if you do… maybe the next one I bring home will be sweeter!”

“I keep you line, that’s more practical than being sweet! You’ll appreciate me in the long run.” I took the much needed reprieve from the heavy moment to quickly wipe my eyes and shake off my emotions. She laughed at that, and groaned.

“You’re nothing if not true to your brand, huh? Well, listen, you can’t get all emotional about every one of these things, cuz I still have a whole bag of goodies for you. If you cry, then I’ll cry and then we will be here all night.” I ran my fingers along the polished wood of the arm rests, tracing its curvature, but what she said broke me from my trance and made me whip my gaze upwards.

“Wait.. there’s more??” I was genuinely baffled.

“Ha! Straight out of an informercial!” She stood to fetch something else from the bag as she spoke.

“An info-what?”

“How the fuck do you know how hydrogen peroxide reacts to tissue but you don’t know what an informercial is?”

I shrugged, “I can’t know everything! I’d become far too powerful for humankind to handle!”

“Little Nightmare, you’re already too much for humankind to handle, that’s why you got stuck with me. I think I must’ve sinned a lot in a past life or something. Okay, what’s next? Ahh, here we go…” she made a sort of trumpet fanfare with her lips before ripping away paper and placing another furniture item down, this time to my right. My heart skipped a beat as I took it in: a bed. It had a simple enough wooden frame and a garish pattern of red and blue flowers dotting the comforter, but it was a proper bed, nonetheless. I could let the eyesore go for now. Wheeling myself over to its edge, careful to keep the heel of my injured leg upright, I hopped from the seat of the chair to the mattress in one fell swoop, still clutching the towel around my otherwise naked body and reclined back, luxuriously.

“I bet you’re delighted. Now you can finally get some sleep in peace without some giant bitch hovering over you or touching you all the time. I know, it’s a dream come true. You’re welcome.” She propped her head up on her hand as she smiled teasingly.

“Natalie, you and I both know this will not deter you from swooping in unnecessarily close to my personal space at all times. I get no reprieve whatsoever.”

“You poor thing. You’re truly in hell, aren’t you? Is it comfortable?”

“Yes, actually. I’d assumed it’d be filled with lumps of polyester judging by the hideous covers, but it’s surprisingly firm and supportive.” Oops, I hadn’t meant to be entirely honest with her…. My mistake.

“Awww, I thought the flowers were cute… oh well. I can sew you something else you like better, later…” for a petulant human, she took my criticism surprisingly well. During the next few minutes she pulled out all sorts of other gifts: a mirror, a wardrobe, towels, my very own toothbrush, a razor, other hygiene products in impressively detailed bottles with fully printed labels that imitated their human counterparts perfectly. I felt a swelling my chest as she showed me item after item. She’d gone above and beyond. I felt utterly spoiled.

Finally, she revealed the last piece to this extraordinary puzzle was new clothes. I could’ve jumped for joy, except, of course, I’d never degrade myself to such a degree. The moment she told me, I could already feel the smart cut of tailored slacks, the comfortable embrace of a woolen waistcoat beneath a fine suit jacket, my collar buttoned all the way and adorned with a perfectly presented tie. I loved the elegance of a fine set of gentleman’s clothes. It may have been the one thing the old man and I could agree on. After all this time of wearing that humiliating smock, which barely managed to cover my manhood, I absolutely craved the comfort and security of three layers of sophisticated fashion. She’d instructed me to close my eyes once again, which I did without resistance, this time. As I sat on the edge of the bed, my right leg propped up in the desk chair, I could feel the heat and movement of her fingers as she presumably placed my new wardrobe next to me on the bedspread. I was beside myself with glee, I couldn’t wait to see what wonderful clothes were lying in wait.

Then, I opened my eyes.

Oh.

What surrounded me were clothes small enough to fit me, yes, but they weren’t at all what I was expecting. I spotted one pair of baggy slacks and and an uninspired sky blue button down but beyond that, it looked like sweatpants, t-shirts and hoodies galore.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Her voice, up above, made me jump.

“Nothing! Nothing at all! They’re— great. Thank you.” I wore a perhaps too-eager smile.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re not getting away with that, little mister. You’re a terrible liar. What’s the problem?” Natalie had no interest in playing games, it seemed.

“It’s fine, really… it’s just…” I tried my best to sell my non-existent enthusiasm.

“It’s just?? What??”

“… I’m just used to something more… sophisticated. I’m most comfortable in a suit. I wore a suit everyday, before…”

She burst out laughing, my face burned hot, “Alexander… you’ve got one working leg at the moment and you’re just going to be sitting around the house for the foreseeable future. What in the flying fuck do you need a full on suit for?”

“You asked! Don’t complain when you get the answer you demanded! Besides, I don’t judge you for dressing in a monotonous variety of barely socially acceptable forms of pajamas everyday, don’t judge me for wanting a little elegance in my appearance! Despite how you found me, I’ve been known to maintain meticulous grooming. Unlike you, I get a sense of pride out of being put together. I just haven’t had much luck of it since you decided it would be just hilarious to dress me up like one of your dolls. I apologize if I’m looking for a bit more class than that nightmare you put me through.”

She threw her hands up, “Jesus fucking Christ, I get it. Well you’ll just have to suffer through wearing this trash until I can afford to get His Majesty what he truly deserves. Mea Fucking culpa. Can you at least languish in these rags for peasants long enough for me to go cook you dinner, Your Highness?”

My stomach dropped. I felt awful. Here she’d done all these wonderful things for me and I’d turned around and coldly insulted her. I swallowed the lump in my throat, “Natalie…”

“No no, save it. You’re right, as always. I got what I asked for.”

“Natalie, please…” I opened my arms wide, beckoning for her. She hesitated, her mouth turned down, her lips tense. I gestured again, “Give me your hand?” She threw her gaze askance and offered me her outstretched fingers. Landing on my good leg, I threw myself off the bed and embraced her pointer finger with both arms, bouncing and wobbling on my left foot as my little weight shifted her hand slightly. She hadn’t expected that, clearly, “I was a dick just now. A terrible, selfish, disgusting, unwashed, detestable, overly dramatic dick—“

A ghost of a smile played on her lips as I craned my neck upwards to catch her gaze, “Ew…” she muttered. I continued, unperturbed.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m extraordinarily grateful for all of this. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” With that I laid my cheek on the side of her finger, flashing my eyes up at her through my lashes.

She scrunched her nose, cheeks turning pink, “Stop it! Stop being all cute when I’m mad at you! It’s not fair. You can’t cut me to the fucking quick and then bat those pretty blue eyes at me and have me right back. That’s manipulative! You’re a little master of manipulation, you know that, you little devious bastard??”

Normally, I’d take issue with being called cute, but right now it was working in my favor, “Thank you, sincerely, for everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’m on to you. Put some clothes on and I’ll see you in a minute.” She was smiling, at least a little, now, and that made my shoulders relax. With that, she gingerly lifted me under my arms and placed me back on the edge of the bed, “Oh, wait. You’ll need some help with that leg won’t you?” My inability to bend it would make it impossible to put on underwear or pants, without assistance, “Oh relax, don’t get all huffy, I’m not going to dress you, or anything, here…” In one swift movement, she eased open a shallow center drawer in her dresser and produced a pair of tweezers, just about the length of my leg. They were a perfect grappling arm to extend my reach, “Okay, now I’m outta here. Try to behave yourself for the next 30 minutes, please? I can’t take any more Alexandering all over the place today. You’ve frayed my nerves to their absolute breaking point.” I nodded in earnest, as she stood and headed for the kitchen. I thought about thanking her again, but by the time I got the courage to speak she was already gone behind the partially closed door.

I sat in silence for a moment, looking over the bounty of things that were now mine. My chest swelled. Before I got too emotionally compromised, I turned my attention to getting dressed.

Since my right leg couldn’t bend, I pinched the right side of a pair of navy boxer briefs between the two metal clamps, and held the far end of the tweezers under my arm, this allowed me to reach and slide my ankle through the garment without risking injury. It was the perfect solution and I was deeply relieved to be able to do it myself. I deeply loathed being dressed by clumsy human fingers and it had happened far too often with the overly condescending nurses in the old man’s final years, Thank you, Natalie, for keeping my dignity in tact.

With the aide of the tweezers, I managed to adorn myself with underwear and a pair of unsophisticated charcoal grey sweatpants with only minor strain. I looked about myself, weighing my meager options and decided on a similarly gray hoodie, sighing and sliding it on. Despite the all too casual feel and fit of the fabric, it was nice to finally be covered again. Feeling another pang of guilt for even thinking along those lines, I scooted myself over to the mirror with the aide of the desk chair on wheels. Maybe I’d look better than I felt. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

Gripping onto the beveled wooden edge at the base of the mirror, I stood, with imperfect balance as I came face to face with my own reflection.

What I saw staring back at me made my breath catch: printed across the chest of the hoodie in crimson lettering were the words Harvard Law, complete with the shield-like crest of red and gold.

My heart beat faster as tears welled in my eyes. She’d bought me an actual Harvard Law sweatshirt? I clutched a fistful of fabric. Natalie, you’re not so bad after all, are you?

With newfound determination to be less of a dramatic dick (a characterization I still wasn’t convinced was at all applicable) I awaited her return, reclining comfortably on my new bed. Perhaps shutting my eyes for just moment wouldn’t hurt either…. It’d been a rather exhausting day, for both of us, after all.

[gaytotaldrama]

Since you asked about prompts, while I haven’t got to World Tour in my rewatch, the thought comes to mind of a Gwortney piece where Courtney believes Gwen’s claims that was the one who Duncan kissed her rather than blaming her for “stealing” him

thanks for the prompt! hope you enjoy

also on my ao3

"Uh, I saw Duncan and Gwen kiss!"

In just a few words, Tyler Tucker had completely ruined Gwen's life. She knew she couldn't really blame him - the guy was clearly under Alejandro's crafty spell. But if he'd just stuck around for literally two seconds longer the night before, he would know the truth of what had actually gone down.

Gwen should be so lucky.

Duncan was on the ground, out cold from Cody's sucker-punch to his jaw. Gwen couldn't care. Serves him right, she thought. I told him to fess up to Courtney himself, and now the jackass has dug his grave even deeper.

As Cody and Tyler began to take flight, Gwen realized with a horrible clarity that since Duncan was out of commission, Courtney was headed straight for her. 

"I hate you!" she was screaming, flailing like some sort of enraged marionette. The only thing preventing her from tearing Gwen's face off was Sierra's  - surprisingly expert, though definitely slack - chokehold. "How could you?! I thought we were friends!"

"We are!" Gwen exclaimed, instinctually taking a few steps back. "Courtney, you have to believe me, I didn't want - "

"Oh, sure you didn't," Sierra sneered as Courtney continued to wriggle in her grasp. "You've been all over Duncan since season one! It was only a matter of time before you tried any funny business."

Gwen stamped her foot in frustration, gritting her teeth together. "I do not like Duncan! I never have! I was with Trent in season one, remember?"

But her defenses appeared to fall upon utterly deaf ears. "You," Courtney seethed, steam practically pouring out of her nostrils like a raging bull. "Are so eliminated."

"Look, if I could just - " Gwen started in a panic, but by then, Cody had already won the tie-breaker, and the wave of relief that crashed through her nearly knocked her down to her knees.

Back on the plane, things weren't pretty. Duncan was still passed out somewhere in economy - was Cody's punch really that strong, or was Duncan simply prolonging the inevitable? In any case, Gwen felt terrible. She was being looked down upon by her fellow contestants. She hadn't gotten to say (sing?) all she'd wanted Duncan to hear during their boar challenge, hadn't let him know just how pissed she really was. Not to mention that the person who was angriest with her right now was the very person Gwen wanted to - 

Whatever. Like that was gonna happen now.

And yet, she knew she had to try.

Leaving the confessional (the lock was still busted, if this show weren't so fucking cheap, if McLean wasn't such an asshole, none of this would have even - ), Gwen steeled her resolve and made her way back to first class as slowly as possible. Cody tried to catch her eye as she entered the cabin, but she steadfastly ignored him, ignored the daggers Sierra was shooting her way, too. Courtney was curled into one of the seats, sobbing uncontrollably as Heather patted her on the back. If Heather was now appreciated more than Gwen, she didn't know what she would do.

"Courtney, please," Gwen said softly upon approach. "I can explain everything to you."

"I don't want to hear it, boyfriend stealer!" Courtney screamed.

Gwen winced, shook her head. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. I just need you to listen to me. Can we go out to the cargo hold or something?"

"What, so you can go spy and make sure Duncan hasn't been eliminated?!" At this, she fell prey to a fresh bout of tears.

"If you really want to talk to Courtney, then you can say whatever it is in front of us," Heather said, crossing her arms. "And if that juvie punk gets booted, then I say Good riddance."

"Fine!" Gwen threw up her hands, exasperated. "Fine, I'll just say this here." She hated to air more of her dirty laundry on TV, but that had always been par for the course with Total Drama. "Courtney, I didn't kiss him."

"Yes you did you little - "

"Duncan kissed me," Gwen all but yelled. Her cheeks burned shamefully at the memory. "Tyler didn't see the whole thing, but I pushed Duncan off of me almost as soon as it had begun. I didn't expect it to happen. I didn't want it. And when I rejected him, he got all grouchy and left."

"Oh, yeah, like we're gonna believe that!" Sierra shouted. "You stab Courtney in the back and then can't even own up to it?! You are soooo getting voted 'Least Popular Contestant' on my blog!"

But Cody, looking at Gwen with puppy-dog eyes, asked, "You're being serious, Gwen?"

"Yes." Gwen ran her hands through her rough hair, not even caring if she pulled out any strands. "I wouldn't lie about this. Ask Chris to show you the footage." She scowled at the floor. "And if Duncan gets kicked off tonight, I'll sleep as snug as a bug in a rug."

Silence, for a moment. Heather seemed about to say something. But then - 

"Oh my God," Courtney croaked. "She's telling the truth."

If Gwen had felt relieved when they won the Greece challenge, it was nothing compared to this. "Yes," she repeated, voice breaking. "I swear to you, Courtney, I am. I'm telling the truth."

And Courtney nodded, not meeting Gwen's gaze, her eyes rimmed with red. But it was enough for Gwen to know she believed her.

The others, however, weren't so easily convinced.

"Oh, come on, you two have always been close," said Heather. "If you're not into Duncan, then I'll marry Alejandro."

"I'm not," Gwen said emphatically. "So happy trails, Heather, you two will be perfect for one another." She turned defensively to Sierra. "And I guess you're gonna tell me you totally saw this coming and there's no way I'm being genuine, right? Because since you're an expert on this show, you must know me better than I know myself, huh?" When Sierra didn't answer, Gwen knew she had her pegged. "Ugh, you guys, I am not in love with Duncan! And, sorry, Cody, I'm not into you, either." At Cody's heartbroken expression, Sierra growled at her, but Gwen kept going. "Just because you all have complicated love lives doesn't mean I have to!

"You are so obviously into Alejandro," she continued, rounding on Heather. "But you won't admit it because you're too proud to own up to the fact that there's actually a perfect guy for Heather Hamada out there, and he's just as evil as you are!" Before Heather could splutter her way through a half-baked excuse, Gwen spun to level with Sierra. "And you - if you actually took a second to care about what Cody wants, you would know that you are always overstepping his boundaries!" She contemplated raking her nails down her face, so strong was her frustration at the people around her. "I won't deny that Duncan and I have a lot in common, and I won't deny that he has some sort of feelings for me. But I don't feel the same way. I was into Trent, I'm into Courtney, but I am not and never will be into Duncan!"

Finally, she broke off, heaving, throat drier than the stupid path to the Nile had been. She'd said her piece. She was finished, and if they still decided to send her home next time the Amazons lost, then she'd just learn to live with it.

But no one seemed angry anymore. In fact, they all seemed to be experiencing variations of different emotions, none of them hatred. Sierra's eyes were blown wider than usual, her jaw slack and her fingers twitching like she was itching to blog about something. Cody looked crestfallen, and Gwen felt bad for being harsh, but it had been three seasons and the guy still couldn't deal with the fact that she was never going to date him. Heather, meanwhile, was staring at Gwen with her hand pressed over her mouth and...giggling? It felt wrong to attribute such a cutesy word to the Queen of Mean, but there was no other way to describe the sickening sounds she was making. And Courtney...

Courtney was looking at Gwen like she'd just seen a ghost - and a real one at that, not Harold's stupid soccer ball-bedsheet combo.

"You," Courtney started and swallowed hard - Gwen tried not to track the bobbing motion of her throat. "You like me."

At last, Gwen's brain caught up with her stupid mouth, and she realized what she'd just admitted. Oh, shit...

It was at least a small comfort to know that no one would be asking her about Duncan again any time soon.

[allthewriteplaces]

Magnolia in May ~ Chapter Eleven

Author's Note: It's honestly a MIRACLE that I got this released in time considering how my week has started off with me feeling really sick and a bunch of other stuff. Hopefully by next week, I'll feel better, but for now, let us indulge in some Lizzie x Jessie friendship! Chapter Warning(s): None

Word Count: 4271

Chapter Eleven

The minute I got inside, I took off my jacket, put it on the coat hook and then placed my boots next to Charlie and Ruby’s. This place was not as big as Arrow House, but somehow, it suited her. It was much like her character; quiet, friendly, and inviting. People came to her with their problems and she was always willing to offer a listening ear or words of advice when necessary. I took quite a liking to her when we first met, considering the obvious tension between her and Thomas.

“You and Tommy seem very close.”

In spite of said tension, I also thought it was funny how she still called him ‘Tommy’ and he called her ‘Lizzie’ when they were in the same room, as though they were still good friends. Maybe they didn’t get on as well at first as they did now.

“We are quite fond of one another,” I nodded.

Her eyes sparkled in the light coming from the window and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Then she leaned forward as if to whisper conspiratorially. “It is a wonder he hasn’t taken you to bed yet.”

My jaw nearly dropped to the floor the second the words came out of her mouth and I could tell that I looked like a codfish, so I forced my mouth closed and then cleared my throat, swallowing thickly and feeling my cheeks turning pink with the sudden heat. “Yes, well, it’s a little hard with the nightmares and all that.”

“He told me they were becoming less frequent.” She sounded concerned.

We made our way to a sitting-room a little ways down a corridor from the entrance of the house. I was silent for a few moments. I wanted to plan my next words carefully, because it would be easy for her to assume that she was the one at fault for the return of the nightmares. There was no need to add to the excruciating amount of guilt she was feeling over separating from him, no need to drive her already fragile emotions to the very edge. I wanted to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault, that she was the cause of the nightmares.

Knowing that the children were around was another good reason to keep my voice quiet and to filter through my words. Looking around, I made sure they were not within earshot before I continued. “They started up again several weeks ago. He said something about tunnels and shovels and feeling trapped beneath them.”

Lizzie was considerately quiet now, too and after a moment, she nodded. “He used to be what was known as a tunneler. He and several other men dug long tunnels underneath contested no-man’s-land territory to bury explosives underneath enemy trenches. The job was incredibly dangerous — they risked capture by the enemy and death from tunnels collapsing. They also fought at the Battle of the Somme and the Battle of Verdun, two of the most infamously bloody conflicts of the war.”

She closed the door when we stepped over the threshold. It clicked quietly shut behind her, then she went to sit in one of the two armchairs near the fireplace and gestured for me to do the same.

“He’s never gone into complete detail about what happened,” she continued, picking up the teapot and pouring the warm, soothing liquid into two white, porcelain tea cups. The steam rose from the rim and evaporated into the warm air. “I understand that he would much rather forget that part of his life ever happened, then have to explain it all as if it were fresh in his mind.”

I pick up my cup and then take a small sip to avoid burning my tongue. “He woke up in such a dreadful state that it makes me wish there was something I could do to help him besides offering words of comfort and embracing him in ways that only temporarily eliminate the ghosts of his past.”

“Someone’s been reading a lot of Shakespeare,” she said with a tiny smile.

“I’m sorry?” I blinked several times to try and comprehend the meaning.

“No, I just meant when you said ‘eliminating the ghosts of his past,’ it sort of sounds like something he would write about.”

“Perhaps in his early years of his writing,” I laughed, “I am not as well-versed or have such an advanced vocabulary. Nor do I think I could keep speaking in riddles.”

A few minutes of silence passed, but I didn’t mind it. While some may have seen it as awkward, or felt the need to fill it with idle chatter and small talk, I took it as a spare second to think, to allow my mind to wander wherever it wanted to. I wasn’t sure where Thomas was right now, or who exactly he was going to speak with when he got to wherever it was he needed to be, but I hoped that he knew what he was getting into and I wanted him to know that I and the rest of his family would be praying for his safe return. Soon enough, Lizzie spoke again.

“Permit me for saying this, but I have noticed that he has been a different man since he met you,” she said. I looked her way, surprised by not only the break of the silence, but of the words that were spoken. “I mean this in the best possible way, of course. Ever since Grace died, and after losing his brother, he doesn’t let people get too close to him and whenever someone tries, he pushes them away. He keeps his heart locked up in a safe that no one can find the passcode to, not even me, the one person he vowed to share everything with. At the beginning of the divorce, he barely paid any attention to them aside from mealtimes and they would call me on the telephone, begging for me to come and pick them up.”

I was surprised to say the least. Thomas always appeared to be a doting father to his children. He gave them everything and anything they wanted without spoiling them. He listened to them play their instruments, he comforted them when something was bothering them, sat with them during mealtimes and played with them when he wasn’t working. He even put his work aside to attend the picnic with them that one day and it made them so happy.

It might seem to some that we were speaking of two different Thomas Shelbys, one who was present in the family and his children’s lives and one who distanced himself from the people he cared about and who cared about him.

“It’s one of the things that caused us to separate. He just wasn’t the same anymore, and when he went away, he smelled like other women. He reeked of blood and danger and Charlie even said to me, ‘you’re more my mum than he is my dad’ and it broke my heart. Not just for Charlie but for Thomas. They had an unbreakable bond, which seemed to crumble more and more until it was nothing more than dust, old memories that were left behind in the past.”

She paused again, gazing into the fireplace for a moment, collecting her emotions. One thing I admired, but was also slightly concerned about, was that too often, her main focus was taking care of everyone else and making sure their needs were met while rarely allowing herself to take care of her own or to let anyone see her own sadness, anger and pain. After all, the separation took a toll on her as well and it seemed to me like her way of dealing with her negative emotions was pretending they didn’t exist in the first place.

I wasn’t sure what to do at that moment, but I felt this strong inclination to reach out to her, to put a hand on hers and tell her that it was okay if she needed to cry, or to take a step back for a while. On the other hand, having the children with her for a couple of weeks might be just the thing to lift her spirits.

“But things changed. I was surprised that one night near the end of April when I didn’t receive a single telephone call and at first I was worried, because what if something happened to them? Now I see that it’s because of you. I should be jealous of you, furious even.”

“I assure you, Miss Stark, that you have nothing to be jealous of. Thomas and I are good friends. Nothing more.”

She added a few cubes of sugar into her tea and then gently stirred it so it wouldn’t remain in a clump. “Good friends, eh? Then why did it take you so long to say ‘goodbye’ to one another?”

My head snapped upward and she looked back at me through narrowed eyes, raising one brow sceptically. I opened my mouth to speak, in a lame attempt to explain my absence and protect my reputation, but then she started laughing.

“Look at your face, you’re as red as a tomato.”

While Lizzie tried in vain to recover herself, I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t feel like laughing in the least, and I sat there feeling awkward and embarrassed and a little bit foolish. I should have known Lizzie would find out about Thomas and I and while I did wish we had a little more time together, him and I, I am glad that we parted ways when we did, or else we would have taken a lot longer, thus raising more suspicions.

How much she knew, however, I still wasn’t sure and I wasn’t going to ask any further questions about it, dig myself a deeper hole than I was already in. At least now she was smiling, though. That was the only good thing about it, even if it was at my own expense.

“Well, to be honest with you, I would much rather see him with you than that May Carleton woman.” She looked down at her clenched fist and loosened it. “She’s practical and follows structure and routine very strictly, which I am certain you’ve noticed, but she lacks imagination and creativity. Not like you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I smiled, and took another sip of my tea.

“You should,” she said, smiling back at me, but it quickly vanished as soon as it appeared. “She is a bit too forward, however. She knows exactly how to draw Tommy in and sometimes he is too quick to fall for it. Or he was, anyway.”

“Was?”

“Like I said, he’s been different since he met you. Although, if there ever comes a time when I need to make a choice between who I think best suits him besides you, I would easily choose her over Tatiana.”

“Tatiana? May? Lizzie? Grace? How many women does Mister Shelby know exactly?”

My mouth snapped shut, realising I had just asked that question out loud rather than in my head. Lizzie leaned her head back and sighed dramatically.

“Too many to count, I’m afraid.” She added a little bit more sugar to her tea, seeing as how it wasn’t sweet enough already. “But rest assured, he will not be seeing Tatiana again. And May? Far as I know, she’s just a friend.”

“Who’s Tatiana?” I asked.

“No one you need to worry about.” She shook her head, setting her cup and saucer down, then meeting my eyes again. “She is a duchess. Rich, beautiful, a real temptress who would do just about anything to get what she wanted. I never met her or knew her personally. Not really, but I never liked her, and shockingly, neither did Tommy. She stayed over one night, and things got out of hand. That’s all he was willing to tell me about her.”

“Men are weak when it comes to women, especially those they know are trouble. And they rarely think twice about the consequences until it’s far too late. I’m not saying all men are, and forgive me if what I’m saying is too bold, but let’s just say that when you’ve been in the business for as long as I have, you get to know a bunch of different characters.”

“So I’m assuming you have a handful of scandals?” she asked, perking up.

“Oh, trust me, I have many.”

“Well, then, you must tell me about them.”

“And here I thought you weren’t one for idle gossip.”

“What are friends for if you can’t gossip with them? Besides, it’s in the past now, isn’t it? it? Surely it won’t harm them and they’re not going to hear us anyway. I, too, have met my fair share of characters whilst in my old profession.”

“Really? And what was it?” I asked, taking a sip of my tea.

“Not the sort of business you want on a resume, I’ll say that much.”

“Oh,” I said, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.

“You seem shocked,” she said, glancing up at me.

“Not at all — I mean, you’re very pretty — That is —” I was stumbling over my words. I didn’t want to offend her by saying anything rude or by making some remark, and surely this was not an appropriate topic to discuss while having tea with a dear friend.

She laughed again, shaking her head. “I know what you mean. It wasn’t my first choice. Originally, I wanted to become a writer, print articles for the daily papers, maybe write a few stories and get them published, but no one believed in me, not even the people I called my friends. Then after losing my parents, I had to find some way to provide for myself.”

Her tone became less amused and more serious as she went on. I thought she might start weeping and instinctively, I put a hand out and placed it on top of her own.

“You needn’t talk about it anymore if you don’t want to.”

She looked relieved now and she smiled. “Thank you. It’s all in the past now, so I need not dwell on it.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have had to give up your dreams because no one believed in you. Do you still wish to write?”

“Well, I’ve started writing short stories for children. Not sure if I will ever publish them, but—”

“You should!” I said, a little too hurriedly. “I’m sure Charlie and Ruby will love them. They’ll tell their friends, their friends will tell their friends, imagine it!”

Her smile grew until it stretched all the way across her face.

“You really think I can do it?”

“I don’t think so. I know so,” I answered.

A few moments of silence went by and none of us seemed to mind it.

She stood up and collected both of our cups and saucers. “More tea?”

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I feel a bit ill.”

When she noticed the almost faraway look on my face, she placed a reassuring hand on mine, which startled me at first, but a few seconds later, I found myself appreciating the gesture. “Don’t worry. Tommy’s gotten himself into plenty of scrapes before, tricky ones, at that, but he’s always found a way to weasel his way out of them. No doubt he’ll return safe and sound.”

“I hope so,” I replied, rubbing my hand on the fabric of my dress and meeting her eyes. She gazed at me with a sympathetic expression in her eyes just as Charlie came into the room, glancing between us.

“Jessie, will you play with us?” he asked softly. I could tell he’d been waiting until we’d finished our conversation to ask the question. Something I am certain his father or Lizzie must have taught him.

“Of course I will, give me a few minutes and I’ll be right there.”

He nodded and then ran back out of the room, possibly to tell Ruby the good news. Lizzie and I both stood up at the same time and I took a deep breath.

“The kids seem to have taken quite a liking to you as well,” she observed. “Good. I can’t imagine having a governess like Mrs. Pritchard was a pleasure. They told me how much she disliked them.”

“Charlie has mentioned her a few times, yes. He told me she was horrid to them. She would literally drag them out of bed in the morning, make them dress themselves and but the thing that was when he told me all of the things she said to him and Ruby. Shaming them for who they were and where they came from.”

I could feel my hands shaking but I didn’t know why. No, actually, I knew exactly why. I was angry. I was angry for the very same reasons that I was when Thomas and I were talking not long ago, and when Django and his family once returned from the city and people had been insulting them and whispering about them when they thought no one was paying attention. What had they done to deserve such treatment? And what could someone possibly gain from degrading someone else?

“Why bother working with or having children if you don’t like them?” I whispered, sitting down again rubbing my arms nervously. Lizzie watched me from the corner of her eye and after a moment, she placed her hand on my shoulder.

“I wasn’t expecting Ruby to come so soon after Thomas and I married, and to tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure I was ready to become a mother, but as time passed and this baby inside me grew, the first time I held her in my arms, I knew that she was meant to be. That I would do anything for her, and for Charlie. As soon as they told me about what happened, I begged them to talk to their dad. It was the only time he’d set his work aside and listened to them.”

She paused and it looked as though tears had come into her eyes.

“Are there some things I wish I did differently? Yes. Do I wish things had turned out better for us? Of course I do. But I feel like things are in a good place right now. I mean, if things had worked out, the children never would have met you.”

Neither of us said anything for a little while, until the both of us had a chance to settle down and collect our emotions. Then Lizzie sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

“Did you ever wish you could be a mother? Or had you dreamed of having children of your own?” She paused. “Forgive me. You don’t have to answer that question if it’s too personal.”

“That’s the thing. I never thought about having children, I just like working with them and teaching them. I will admit, way back when I started, there was a little boy who screamed and kicked and pinched, sometimes over the smallest things. I made a vow to never have children.”

“How did you manage? Did you end up resigning?”

“Trust me, I could have, but one day, I just sat him down and he told me he felt so angry all the time. His mother had died a few weeks before I arrived, and his father sort of shut himself up in his office. He only ever paid attention to the boy if he acted up, so that’s what he did.”

Lizzie shook her head dismally and looked at me. “Poor child.”

I nodded. “I told him that it was okay to be angry and to feel sad, but also that we needed to find healthy ways of dealing with our emotions, like talking about it with someone we trust. So, then I put both the father and son in the same room and allowed them to have a private conversation, to let it all out. By the time I came back, they were both crying, but in a good way.”

“Jessie! Are you coming?” Charlie and Ruby were standing in the entryway and were waiting very patiently for the two of us to finish our conversation.

“You go on,” said Lizzie, “I have things that I need to finish up here anyway.”

“Very well, Miss Stark.”

“Titles seem too formal for a place like this. Right here, we are Jessie and Lizzie.” She took both of my hands in hers. They were warm and soft, much like herself, and they were very clean. Each nail was around the same size and they looked like they had been trimmed recently. “You know, I didn’t have any sisters growing up, but I’m sure you and I are going to get along splendidly. Oh, speaking of sisters, a few family members are going to be coming over on Wednesday morning for breakfast. I thought you would like to know in advance.”

“You mean Auntie Ada is coming?” Charlie asked.

“And Uncle Arthur?” Ruby added.

“Yes, yes,” Lizzie smiled at them. “Auntie Polly is coming, too.”

“And all of our cousins!” Ruby was grinning from ear to ear, but then she looked over at Lizzie. “Does our Daddy know?”

“Yes. Your daddy already told me before you came. We have business to discuss as well, so you can play outside with your cousins.”

“Can we have another picnic with Jessie?”

“I think it’s up to her to decide,” she said and both of the children took my hands and tilted their chins up to try and win me over with puppy dog eyes. How could I possibly say ‘no’ when they were looking at me like that?

“Pleeeeease?” They said at the same time and I pretended to sigh.

“Alright, then, another picnic it is.” I chuckled, “Oh, but if I’m not mistaken, I believe you both asked me to play with you.”

“Race you to the top,” said Charlie and he and Ruby turned on their heels and went up the stairs faster than I ever could.

“No fair, you two are faster than me,” I said, going after them. When I got to the top of the stairs, I was out of breath and Charlie was trying his best to hold back a smile as I took a minute to regain some of the oxygen I had lost coming up.

“We win this time,” he said.

“Yeah, well, you started without me, so…”

This time, Ruby was laughing with him. But she quickly turned around, opened the door and she and Charlie stepped into the playroom. It was a little bit smaller than the one back at Arrow House, but was not lacking in toys and books.

“There’s certainly a lot of interesting things to do,” I mused, sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking around at the number of board games and stuffed animals and there were even two toy rocking horses. Good thing there were two. Not that I would expect them to argue over it, but you never know.

“Jessie, you try!” said Ruby, sliding off the horse and then gesturing toward it.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m too tall to fit on it now.”

“Come on,” said Charlie, “what’s the worst that can happen?”

“First of all, I don’t want to break it. Second, I’m not properly dressed.”

“Alright, then. Ruby and I will race and then you can be the judge.”

“Yeah, you can be the one who shouts ‘Ready, Steady, Go!”

“Sounds much better,” I agreed, “but we’ll need an audience.”

The three of us set to work, putting both horses in a line, making a pretend mark with one of Ruby’s hair ribbons, and then assembling an audience with the stuffed animals and toy soldiers.

“We have to have some officers there in case a bad guy comes,” Charlie insisted.

“You’re right. We all know bad things can happen anywhere.”

“That’s what Daddy says,” Ruby nodded, frowning slightly.

“Don’t worry, there won’t be any bad guys,” Charlie assured her, putting a warm hand on her shoulder, “and if there are, we’ll take care of ‘em, right?”

“Right,” she said, grinning.

“That’s it, you two, chin up. The race is about to start.”

Ruby put up a hand. “Wait, we need money, too!”

“Money?” I exclaimed.

“Yeah. Daddy says people can win lots of money at races, too.”

“What else has your daddy told you?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

They both giggled and I couldn’t help but smile at them.

“Okay, well, we don’t have any real money, so we can use marbles.”

I reached into the toy chest and pulled out the marbles.

“Let’s see, we’ve got thirty marbles. That means whoever chose the winning horse will each get a marble which is worth a thousand pounds, right?”

Charlie put a hand to his head. “How am I supposed to know? Money is tricky.”

“It is, isn’t it?” I laughed.

“No, Teddy! No betting until it starts!” Ruby sternly pointed at her bear sitting innocently in the front row of the stadium. “You have to wait until we hand you the paper before you can place your bet. That’s the rule.”

“Now, are we ready?” I asked and both competitors got onto their horses.

“Ready,” they both said.

“Alright, then, Ready….. Steady…. Go!” I made a fake sound to let them know that the race had officially started and they took off.

Taglist: @runnning-outof-time @zablife @loverhymeswith @sherbitdibdab

[leeriot255]

Hi, This is my first post on tumblr so i figured I’d post some of my older writings. So here’s a sapphic coded (at least i tried to make it like that) horror short story, Called the tale of the talkative Floor boards.

I'd moved into this house with my best friend a month and a half ago and that’s when these incidents began. At first, it was just food going missing, or stuff being moved around, we blamed it on forgetfulness, but last week everything changed. I should probably start at the beginning.

Indigo and I moved in on July twenty-ninth it was our first time being on our own, and we started our first semester of college in a few weeks. The house is deep in the Appalachian mountains, nearly an hour out from town, but it was cheap so we thought it would be a good idea. A mistake truly.

It was fine and normal for the first few weeks or so, as we finally started getting settled. We'd decorated the two-bedroom nicely with throw pillows and art for the walls. The House had two floors, The first floor consisted of; the living room, the kitchen and, and a small dining room. The second floor had 2 bedrooms and two bathrooms. The master bedroom wasn't in use because it had an odd smell, it smelled like Cigarettes mixed with something that must have been from the attic, which was only accessible from that room. Indie and I both decided to steer clear of it, for the time being, we took the adjacent bedroom and shared the bathroom in the hall.

The first odd incident happened one night when Indie and I were watching TV on the couch and there was an odd noise from the attic. I didn’t hear it at first, but Indie leaned over and whispered in my ear,

“Did you hear that?” Her voice was a little shaky, I looked at her confusedly.

“Hear what?” I whispered back straining my ears, there was a slight rustle coming from above us. I shrugged it off. “It’s probably just a Raccoon or possum or something,” I replied, this time at full volume, and turned back towards the movie.

“Yeah Goldie, you’re probably right,” she said shaking her head, but I could still see her look up at the ceiling quickly. We ignored the noise and continued to do so.

A week or so after this something even more disturbing occurred. It was a Sunday morning and I had just walked groggily out of my bedroom to head downstairs when I looked up to see the door to the master bedroom wide open. I walked over to close it when I was once again hit with the pungent odor that emanated from it, I had hold of the knob and was in the process of closing the door when I heard the sound of running water.

Had Indigo showered in here today? I wondered as I made my way in to shut off the water, covering my nose with the collar of my shirt to avoid the smell. I walked into the bathroom to see the shower on and the room filled with steam. I stumbled through the haze to the shower and managed to fumble and turn it off, nearly slipping on the water that covered the floor. After this, I rushed out of the room as fast as I could, slamming the door behind me. I headed downstairs gasping for air.

“What’s the matter with you?” Indie asked as I rounded the corner into the kitchen. The smell of coffee filled my nose, finally ridding it of that putrid smell.

“You left the door open to The Room when you showered there this morning, and you left the shower on. So I had to go in there,” I said before I walked over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup, and proceeded to throw cream and sugar into it in obscene amounts as she responded.

“I didn’t use that Bathroom this morning,” Indie looked at me in what I assumed was faked confusion.

“Very funny Indigo. Let me guess, Jesus popped down for a quick bath this morning or something?” I replied with a smug look as I turned to face her, coffee in hand.

“I’m Serious Mari, it wasn’t me,” she said I rolled my eyes at her and took a long sip of my coffee. I just shook my head and headed back upstairs. By the next morning, I had forgotten all about the little occurrence. There was nothing for the next two weeks, except a few items going missing here and there, but Indie and I just blamed each other for that. Indie would occasionally complain that she would hear odd noises coming from the master bedroom at night, primarily creaking floorboards, but I just blew it off as her being paranoid.

At least until Saturday night, it was three in the morning when my phone started to ring. It didn't wake me, Indie did.

“Your phone’s been ringing for 5 minutes straight,” she said before dropping it on my stomach.

“Who is it?” I replied, yawning halfway through.

“I don’t know, Some random number,” She shook her head and sat at the end of the bed.

“Hello?” I said once I picked up. There was no response, just breathing.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” It took a minute before I finally got a response.

“Always,” the raspy whispery voice said before beginning to chuckle. I looked up at Indie in horror as my shaky hand slowly pulled the phone away and pressed the speaker button. I could hear creaking floorboards on the other side of the phone, and then a door opening. It sounded like the speaker was crawling down a ladder, and then walking toward something.

“See you soon,” the voice on the line said before it went dead. I looked out our open bedroom door to see the master bedroom door handle turn slowly. Indie saw this too and grabbed my hand and dragged me into the closet. I managed to grab my phone before we scrambled in and closed the door, backing our way into the darkest corner of it. I could hear the floorboards with every step he took as if they were singing some eerie song leading up to our deaths. I had my phone in my hand but Indie snatched it and started dialing.

“911 what is your emergency ?” I heard it Emanate quietly from its speakers.

“There’s someone in my house,” Indie whispered terror shaking her voice. I squeezed her hand as I heard the intruder walk closer to the room.

“Does this person have a weapon?” The operator replied.

“I don’t know, can you please just get someone here now please,” She said, I could hear that she was on the verge of tears.

“Ma’am there is a dispatch on its way to your house right this very moment please just stay on the line.”

“O-okay” Indie stuttered through shaky breaths.

These footsteps became ever closer, tears of fear were dripping down my cheeks without my knowledge at this point. I heard him step in front of the door, and suddenly it was ripped off the hinges. A crooked smiling dirty face met my gaze, in a moment of pure fear and adrenaline I charged managing to knock him to the floor with one swift knee to the pants, I was still holding Indie’s hand and I dragged him out with us as I listened to our attacker groan in pain. I grabbed my keys from the hook as I dragged Indie out the door and jumped into my truck. I didn’t even wait to see if Indie had fully closed the door before I pulled out and floored it down the dirt road that led to town. At that moment, I vowed to always check the attic before moving in.

Hope you enjoy.

[maricabrera]

Mari's shower speaker had broken, a fact she hadn't known until she'd tried to blast her shower playlist (which consisted of mostly 90's country hits) while getting the water started. With a frustrated sigh, she made her way out of the bathroom and back into her living room in search of her air pods. They were water proof, right? She couldn't fathom taking a shower without her music. But as she dug through her overnight bag, which she found discarded on her kitchen island, the brunette realized she was hungry and then quickly remembered the frozen pizza she had in her freezer. While Mari wasn't a chef by any means- in truth, she'd been called a menace in the kitchen by many- she was sure she couldn't screw up something as simple as a frozen pizza, right? So after she found the air pods (not in her bag or her purse, but the fridge of all places)- she turned the oven on to preheat and headed back to the bathroom.

One of Mari's favorite things about her apartment was the shower. It had the best water pressure and the water heater had a seemingly never ending supply of hot water. It was perfect, and if she showered long enough (like she was now) she was able to treat the room as a sort of steam sauna. Maybe that's why she didn't notice the smoke, and the air pods in her ears (playing at a very unsafe volume) drowned out the smoke alarm, so when she'd finished her shower and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a robe and singing along to a Trisha Yearwood song as she dried her hair, she hadn't realized she wasn't alone. Not until she rounded the corner to her kitchen and saw the backs of two people who most definitely hadn't been in her apartment before.

"Uhh... hello?" She asked, pulling the headphones out of her ears and only then hearing the smoke alarm, causing her to flinch at the loud, high pitched noise. "Gunny? Is that you? What's going on?" It was only after she'd spoken that the smell of smoke hit her nostrils and her eyes traveled to the stove and the smoke pouring out from the oven. "My sweaters!" She nearly screeched, taking a quick few steps forward before the second person turned towards her and she was stopped in her tracks. "Alara?" The name felt foreign on her lips after not having spoken it out loud in so long, her brows furrowing as she looked between the two of them. "You-- you're back?"

@alarakcplan & @coltonatwater

starter for: @coltonatwater @maricabrera location: on the way to mari's apartment (unbeknownst to alara)

'We need a wellness check at this address. Neighbors called and said the smoke detector has been going off for a while now but no answer.' As the call crackled across the radio, Alara immediately put the ambulance into drive, heading in the direction of said apartment. "Ambulance 15 responding." she replied over the radio, noting that they were closer than any firetrucks and would probably arrive at the scene first.

Carrying their kits, Alara and Colt climbed the stairs to the apartment in question. As soon as they reached the landing, she spotted the smoke creeping out from under the front door and they'd been able to heard the smoke detector going off from a whole floor down. This didn't look good. Alara quickly moved to bang on the door, yelling as loud as she could, "BRIAR RIDGE FIRE DEPARTMENT! OPEN UP!" She was already preparing herself to have to break the door down. If no one had answered when the neighbors tried, they probably wouldn't be able to answer now.

[thebirdandhersong]

Fairy tale retellings! because I couldn’t help myself (under the cut because I got carried away and remembered my fairy tale retelling phase from middle school........ oh boy)

Cinderella 

Cinderella (2015 Disney live action): beautiful beautiful BEAUTIFUL (the music! the script!! the Hope! the costumes! the dress! the gentleness at its heart! the overall design and the colours!) (I still believe it’s the best live action re-adaptation they’ve come up with so far) (then again they DID have one of the Rogue One writers and Kenneth Branagh--both of whom understand story AND fairy tales--on the team, and possibly the best combination of actors and costume designers)

Cinderella (Disney animated movie): like a dream. Can’t remember it that well because I haven’t watched it in over ten years, but I remember that I loved it

Cinderella, the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical featuring Laura Osnes and Santino Fontana: Laura’s Cinderella is so lively and hopeful and bright and affectionate and I Love Her!!! The script is also surprisingly funny, and the little changes they made (like the fairy godmother being an old beggar woman in the village, the subplot with her stepsister, the scene at the ball where she suggests that they should all be kind to one another, the fact that the prince is called His Royal Highness Christopher Rupert Windemere Vladimir Karl Alexander Francois Reginald Lancelot Herman (HERMAN!) Gregory James....... iconic) added rather than detracted from the themes they chose to emphasize

A Cinderella Story: possibly one of my favourite films. I loved the fact that they knew each other before the ‘ball’. Loved the way the fairy tale was ‘translated’ into the 2000s. The friendship was strong with this one. I had the best time watching this movie. (Dress-wise, Hilary Duff’s dress is my least favourite, but that’s a minor quibble, and is also due to the fact that it has Lily and Laura’s gorgeous fluffy ballgowns to contend with, and that’s not fair competition)

Persuasion, by Jane Austen: does it count?? The way I see it, Persuasion is like Cinderella gone wrong (we discussed this in class, and my prof called Lady Russell a fairy godmother who means well but fails her protege before the story even begins. We talked about Anne’s ‘Cinderella’/makeover moment taking place over a longer period of time, about the ‘evil’ stepsisters, etc. etc. I’m not entirely sure I agree with every single comparison he made, but he made some Very interesting points).... at least the first time :)

Cinder, by Marissa Meyer. Oh, the images!!!!! Marissa Meyer is WONDERFUL at them. You wouldn’t think they’d translate well into a futuristic sci-fi (almost steampunk) world, but she did it SO brilliantly (the slipper! the ‘dress’! the whole family situation!)

Rapunzel

Tangled (Disney animated movie): an absolute joy. Rapunzel is an Ariel-like character who has hopes and dreams of her own, and I love how warm and vivacious and endearingly transparent she is. The dance scene is so, so lovely. (I stand by my opinion that very few little went right with Disney’s fairy tale retellings after Tangled.)

Cress, by Marissa Meyer: once again. Images. I can’t believe she managed to pull Rapunzel-in-space off so well. (Plus she’s a hacker, and such a sweetheart!!)

Beauty and the Beast

Beauty and the Beast (Disney animated movie): Amazing. Gorgeous. Brilliant. The buildings and the music and Belle (Belle, my darling!!) and the darker, more Gothic feel to the art and the design...... Yes

Beauty, by Robin McKinley: knocked it right out of the ball park, right through the atmosphere, right into outer space... The language is so lush and atmospheric, and even though I knew roughly what was going to happen, I loved every moment of it. She puts a special emphasis on family and on human connection and I Loved that so much.

Rose Daughter, by Robin McKinley: also gorgeous!!!!! Beauty is still my favourite of the two, but this one was also a gem. (Again: the emphasis on family and sisterhood!!!)

Beauty and the Beast (the Broadway musical): Susan Egan’s voice is SO lovely. And Home deserved more than just an instrumental reference in the 2017 version.

The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Princess of the Midnight Ball, by Jessica Day George: the Best. The sisters are easier to distinguish, the changes/things she added (the war, the queen’s past, etc.) make the story even more interesting, and Galen is fantastic (courteous, kind, brave, AND likes to knit?? NICE)

The Barbie movie: I loved it when I was a little girl (it is also Muffin-approved!)

The Princess and the Pea

@fictionadventurer​‘s Wodehousian one :) which is an absolute delight. Every once in a while I remember it and then can’t stop smiling

The Goose Girl

The Goose Girl, by Shannon Hale: the Best. And by the Best, I mean the absolute Best. Her writing is so beautiful and her characters are so real and distinctive. The worldbuilding is fascinating. It’s so simple and so beautiful, and is near-perfect as a retelling and as a novel. The rest of the Bayern series is also wonderful!!

The Little Mermaid

The Little Mermaid (Disney movie): can’t remember it very well, except for the chef who wanted to cook Sebastian and also Ariel’s very cool sisters.... the music and Ariel’s character are lovely :)

The Little Android, by Marissa Meyer: genius. The first time I read it, I cried furiously. What does it mean to be human?? Marissa Meyer loves to talk about this in her other books (through malfunctioning robots, androids, werewolves, etc.). And the conclusion she comes to is always the same (and always done so beautifully): it’s about love and sacrifice (and tbh even though she’s talking about this through robots and werewolves, she’s got a point!!! When you act with love and self-sacrifice, you reflect the character of the Maker and His love and self-sacrifice, which is what makes us in that moment the most human--or at least human in the sense that that’s what we were made to be and to do towards our neighbours and enemies)

Ponyo (Studio Ghibli movie): this counts, doesn’t it?? A film that is an absolute joy through and through. It doesn’t completely stick to the original fairy tale but it also talks about compassion, kindness, and love as a choice

The Princess and the Frog

The Princess and the Frog (Disney animated movie): can’t remember it very well, but Anika Noni Rose has a fantastic voice, and I loved Tiana’s practicality, optimism, and kindness

The Prince of the Pond, by Donna Jo Napoli: can’t remember it either (read it in third grade) but basically it’s about how the prince turns into a frog and starts a family with another frog (the story is told from her perspective). I do remember that the ending made me so sad, though

Sleeping Beauty

Sleeping Beauty (Disney movie): can’t remember it at all either, except for: 1) Once Upon a Dream (a brilliant song) and 2) forget pink or blue. I liked her grey dress the most

Spindle’s End, by Robin McKinley: the story was told in such an interesting way (the animals! the way she wrote about love and protecting the people you love and self-sacrifice in familial and platonic relationships!) with Robin McKinley’s beautiful style

East of the Sun, West of the Moon

East, by Edith Pattou: I was obsessed with this book in elementary school. Obsessed. I kept rereading it over and over again because I just loved it so much. It’s been a few years since I’ve read it, but I can remember certain scenes (Rose entering the ballroom for the first time, the white bear’s hulking figure in the doorway, the architecture of the hall where she washes the shirt, her fingers running over the wax, the reunion scene) so vividly as if it had been a movie instead of a book, or if I’d actually been there, experiencing what Rose was experiencing

Orpheus and Eurydice (which kind of counts)

Hadestown (the Broadway musical, the original cast, AND Anais Mitchell’s original concept album): I’ve talked about it so much I probably shouldn’t even start slkfjsdl;kfjlk; I just wanted an excuse to mention it again

Tam Lin

Fire and Hemlock, by Diana Wynne Jones: I loved it when I first read it but I was so confused and so fascinated by it.

The Snow Queen

Frozen (Disney animated movie): no (insert heart emoji)

And contemporary(?) books that are considered modern classics, if not modern fairy tales (depends on how you look at it, really):

Peter Pan

Peter Pan (Disney animated movie): a childhood favourite!!!

Peter and the Starcatchers, by Dave Barry: the whole series is so much fun (and they’re among some of the funniest books I’ve read). This one serves as a sort of prequel to Peter Pan, but it’s safer to say that Dave Barry reimagined the whole story.

Peter and the Starcatcher (Broadway play adaptation of the book, which is a reimagining of the original Peter Pan..... yeah): the source material is incredibly funny, so naturally the play adaptation makes you laugh until your sides feel ready to split (I mean!! You have Christian Borle as Black Stache, Adam Chanler Berat as Peter, Celia Keenan-Bolger as Molly..... they’re all brilliant) The script, the way the cast makes use of the set and props, the perfect comic delivery....... love it

Finding Neverland, a musical adaptation of the movie (the A.R.T. production with Jeremy Jordan as James Barrie): the music is so good, and the way they write about the value of looking at the world through the eyes of a child?? of seeing the beauty in everything?? of hope and imagination and wonder?? If it weren’t for the way it handles adultery (even emotionally cheating!) and divorce :( but Laura Michelle Kelly is absolutely enchanting, and the script is also incredibly funny and heartwarming

Tiger Lily, by Jodi Lynn Anderson: a twisted fairy tale... it was quite disturbing at times, but it was also beautiful and heartbreaking. It’s a darker take on the story, which I tend not to like (at all), but the way it explored Tiger Lily and Peter was quite interestng

The Wizard of Oz

WIcked, the Stephen Schwartz musical--I haven’t read the book: as far as retellings-about-the-villain-of-the-original-story goes this one is my favourite. It is another twisted fairy tale, though, and there’s a constant undercurrent of doom and dread, even in the motifs Stephen Schwartz uses... the ending is not completely happy, but the music is FANTASTIC (Mr. Schwartz also did The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Prince of Egypt!!)

Alice in Wonderland

Alice in Wonderland (Disney movie): another childhood favourite... I also haven’t seen this one in over ten years, but I can still remember specific scenes very clearly in my head

Alice by Heart: a musical about a girl called Alice Spencer whose coping mechanism (quite literally) is Alice in Wonderland. She knows it by heart (again. Literally) and she dives into the world as a form of escapism (LITERALLY. There’s even a song at the end where the characters acknowledge how unhealthy this is). There’s a lot about growing up, losing a loved one, learning to let go... about self-deception and grief and the control one has over one’s life (unfortunately it IS subtly antagonistic towards Christianity at times)..... i do wish that writers didn’t have to treat sexual maturity as the most prominent/interesting part of coming-of-age stories, though. The characters, the set and lighting and costume design (BRILLIANT, by the way!!!!)... all wonderful. But the strangely sexual references can be a bit uncomfortable. (Really!! You can tell a coming-of-age story WITHOUT that stuff, you know!!!!!)

That Disney Movie directed by Tim Burton: wouldn’t recommend. Alice doesn’t need to be a warrior. (At ALL.)

Would also like to mention: Princess Tutu :)

[mystic-sky]

|✨Part 1✨| |✨Part 2 ✨| of the Friends with Benefits Series.

Your relationship with Suguru started off somewhat unexpectedly. A new semester romance, however it was unwanted after dealing with Satoru Gojo just last year. You tried not to blame yourself for the situation unraveling the way it did. You did your best to make Satoru comfortable with you- at least you thought you did.

He cut you off as soon as you made your feelings apparent. You wondered if he somehow did it for your own good, or maybe there was something deeper that went along with it. No matter, you remained optimistic. You were young, and bound to make mistakes. This was just a story to tell your children about in the future if you ever felt it was necessary.

But back to Suguru, who had wiggled his way into your life somehow. He wasn’t a random guy actually. More like a familiar face you’d seen in a few of your classes because you both were in the same major. Just so recently, he decided to talk to you.

You weren’t expecting to hit it off with him so easily. He was sort of scary looking, which led you not to engage with him in the first place. He never tried talking to you before 5 months ago. And neither did you, considering you thought he was so handsome he’d break your heart too somehow.

His arms were sleeved with tattoos that would bridge at his chest. The tattoos would sometimes peak out of his wide collared shirts if he chose to wear one that day. He had a thing for wearing these huge ear gauges that had his favorite anime on them. Though, you never noticed until you sat close enough to him to see the designs. It was a rainy day, and both of you ended up sitting beside each other in your sociology course in the back of the classroom. You were both late, having come in just after the other.

It was weird seeing him this close. He never did come late to any class you’d ever been in with him. Even if you wanted to sit with him, like Satoru, he never had any available seats beside him. He didn’t disturb you until the lecture ended, commenting on one of your anime themed mechanical pencils. That sparked your first conversation with him, and he wasn’t shy to ask you out for coffee right after.

He’s been keen on you since, and you just barely give him the time of day in the beginning. You were just cautious, after the whole Satoru situation. Suguru was fine with whatever you wanted the situation between you both to be. But you will admit, the conversations he’d keep you up with at night made it hard to not fall in love with him.

He’d take you out to dinner, study with you, and sleep with you from time to time since the sexual attraction between you was hard to deny. You think your favorite thing about messing around with Suguru was how he’d always pick your brain after sex with manga theories and better endings than the canonically debuted ones. He was a really good cook, and you often challenged him to make your favorite dishes. They were excuses to invite you over to his place, so he gladly took each one with merit. It was friends with benefits but with far much more substance to hold onto.

He never poked you about getting serious. Whatever you both had was still young at barely 5 months. He could tell you’d been going through something mostly because of how you sexed him. Sometimes you were the dominant one- you’d throw him on the bed and bounce yourself on his length until your knees were far too tired to go on. Other times, he’d steal the show from you, showing you just exactly what he was capable of.

He spread you onto the desk in his bedroom, face deep into your folds. He also loved to spoil you, like Satoru, but you did your best not to think of him when you both were together. Suguru had so much more hair to grab, considering his tongue work was so good it scared you.

“Be a good kitten and cum for me.” He said between sucks on your clit. You often couldn’t think, and that was a good thing. He numbed you in plenty of ways, he knew he had been helping you get over something. He had been doing the same thing but you could care less.

“Actually, I changed my mind.” He tore his mouth from your steaming sex, wiping his chin. You gasp as he lifts you up off the desk, holding your body without leaning against anything for support. You felt weightless, feeling his length prod at your entrance. You tried to hold back a giggle as he smiled smugly at you.

“You ready?” His eyes were sincere, asking for your consent again as he was aching to sink you onto himself.

You nod, feeling a bit nervous. “Stuff like this is about balance. Start flailing around again and I’ll drop you.” He teased. Your hands found some of his hair again, tugging on it a bit.

“Just fuck me.” You roll your eyes as he slams his length into you, making you cry out and clutch your arms around him. His large hands firmly grasp underneath your thighs, using the way your ass recoiled against his thighs to keep a steady rhythm. He’s immersed in the way your broken moans pour into his ear, fueling his stamina. He’s a stickler for teasing you the entire time, praising you for taking his length so well.

“Such a good kitten, you’re taking it so well.”

It was the third time he’d ever held you up to fuck you. After letting go of the fear of him dropping you it became incredibly easy to focus on the pleasure.

“You’re gonna cum aren’t you? Don’t worry about the carpet baby, make a mess for me.”

He knew how to mix things up the way you needed. On your rough days he’d sex you slowly, more passionately and generously. If you were happy and feeling frisky he’d fuck you accordingly. He was pretty good at reading your body just after the first few fucks you had. You hated comparing the two men, but it did happen from time to time when you were in solitude, plagued by your own self-deprecating thoughts every now and then.

It was weird how they emanated each other’s personalities in certain ways. And then you found out that they used to be good friends in high school until something happened. You never poked Suguru about it, since he’d seem to get irritated when you were around groups of friends and Satoru’s name was mentioned. You did your best to be satisfied with what you had. He was handsome, smart, and possibly wanted to be your boyfriend in due time.

But you couldn’t help but think about Satoru. Not only was your experience with him a wild one, but he was fucking everywhere. It’s always like this for you. It’s not until you’re trying to avoid someone do you begin seeing them absolutely everywhere.

You stared at Satoru over Suguru’s shoulder, poking your cheek with your tongue. The audacity he had, showing up in the cafe where you both first met while you and Suguru were on a routine study date. Well, it was a hotspot for a lot of students, so who are you to say he can’t come in here.

“I think I’m overworking myself today, we can go eat now.” Your mood change was evident to Suguru, but he couldn’t put his finger on why at first. He watched you get up and pack your things before shortly following.

As you tossed your bag over your shoulders, he took hold of one of your hands, squeezing firmly. He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

“Is it something I can cheer you up from when we get back to my place?” Suguru was a bit smug about it, and also painfully intuitive about your emotions even though you’d been close for such a short time. Your cheeks went red, eyes burning holes through the floor.

“It’s nothing, really. Let’s just get out of here.” You manage to look back at him, just barely glancing at Satoru who probably had been looking in this direction. Suguru pressed another kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arm around you and leading you out the cafe. He nearly touched shoulders with Satoru and his own dame, smirking just loudly enough for him to hear.

Suguru wasn’t dumb, finally having noticed your energy change just a few moments after Satoru Gojo entered the cafe. This was your favorite place, and he hated how someone could ever ruin that for you. He felt urged to do something about it- with or without your consent. He doesn’t poke you about it until you’re in the car.

“Random question, but do you know Satoru Gojo?”

The question like a pin in your spine, making you visibly un-slouch in the drivers seat. He doesn’t look at you, feeling that would make it easier for you to talk. You take this the wrong way, and feel even more tense.

“I do, we were a thing at one point.” You manage not to stutter. You had no idea why you felt scared or touchy about the subject- you shouldn’t be. His entire vibe had changed, and he didn’t have his usual grin peaking at the corners of his lips.

“Oh,” he says simply. The longest ten seconds of silence reign throughout the vehicle. You’re anxious to turn on the radio, anything to rid the first bit of awkwardness the two of you had ever shared.

“He’s an asshole, isn’t he?” He randomly chuckles heartily, somewhat calming you.

“Yeah,” you’re exhaling properly now, “he really is.”

“We were best friends for about four years. I know him like the back of my hand. Granted, he’s probably changed a lot since high school.”

“But you’re both so-

“Different?” He chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

“If he was an asshole then, he’s multiplied tenfold.” You roll your eyes. “You both don’t talk anymore?”

You knew they didn’t, but you took the opportunity to ask anyway.

“Nah, he’s a slimy bastard. I hope karma turns him rotten.” You’d never seen Suguru scowl before. He must really hate him, you thought. Still, what a small world; first Satoru and now his ex best friend.

“You still talk to him?” He pokes again. His tone is just barely playful. God, you changed your mind. You didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“No, we don’t talk anymore. It ended pretty badly.” You say simply. You also decided not tell Suguru that the both of you messed around just before you started messing with him.

“Sorry about that. If we were friends sooner I’d have told you about him.” Suguru is apologizing for something you weren’t entirely ignorant about in the first place. You knew what you were getting into.

Satoru never tried to convince you the situation was anything other than what it was— until the end. The sweet things he started saying to you during those final months often echoed in your head- like he meant all of it.

The sex developed into something that it shouldn’t have. Sex that passionate should be forbidden if you aren’t already in love. And the things he said to you the last time he dropped you off didn’t make it any better. You wanted to slap his stupid, pretty face.

“I’m over it now.”

Suguru pans his gaze to watch you nonchalantly staring out the window. He knew better than to ask anymore. He was more elated that you didn’t interact with him at all. He didn’t need Satoru painting a picture about him in your head before he could first.

What sucks the most about dating people you go to school with is how often you’d see them. Satoru was fucking everywhere. The local restaurants, the library, the cafe, and he’d registered for two of your classes this semester. He didn’t speak to you at all, but he was always just there. Perhaps he’d always been around but since you’d been involved with him you were more aware of his presence.

You were standing in line in the library, attempting to return some books. He entered the space, and walked up behind you, standing on the line and giving your space. You turn your body slightly, peering up at him. You thought to leave, but just because you resented him didn’t mean you were going to cower every time you had to be around him for a while. You let out a sigh as you tip toed to peer in front of yourself; at least the line was moving.

Both of you had made it to the front, talking to separate librarians beside one another. When they both got up from their seats to head towards the back, he spoke directly to you, without actually looking at you.

“(Name), word of advice— I’d steer clear of Getou Suguru if I were you.”

Anger poured over you; you did your best to keep your voice low and eyes forward when saying this.

“That’s the first thing you say to me after almost a year? Go fuck yourself.”

He bites back a witty response, poking his cheek with his tongue. “Whatever. Find out the hard way.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. Why the fuck are you telling me this?” You’re whisper-shouting, considering it’s a library.

“Because,” he turns to look at you, “I care about you.”

“What a load of shit.”

Satoru Gojo doesn’t care about anyone, you learned that the hard way.

He let out a sigh. He knew he had no right, but even if he couldn’t get you back, he wanted you to know what kind of guy you were seeing. He couldn’t say anything, he knew you wouldn’t listen. Not like this anyway. Both librarians returned, and gave you back your borrowing passes. You quickly departed, refusing to give Satoru another opportunity to speak to you. His words stuck with you on the way home. You didn’t have any reason to be afraid of Suguru, right?

Two months had passed since Satoru had “warned” you about Suguru. And nothing has happened to lead you to be cautious of him. Satoru hasn’t spoken to you either.

You’re sitting in the guidance counselor’s office as it’s the end of the semester once again. You typed away on your phone, telling Suguru you’d see him for dinner in a bit before throwing your head back and shutting your eyes. The heaviest sigh left your lungs, you were thankful the semester was nearing its end. You had quite enough of studying and needed to unwind.

You feel a presence on the end of your bench, making you open one eye. You see white tresses, and you catch the scent of familiar cologne.

Satoru doesn’t look at you, but he’s quite aware that he’s sitting beside you as well. You almost scoff, only crossing your arms and legs. Noticing the undone laces of your boots, you lean forward to tie it. Your loose bag on your shoulder which unfortunately wasn’t zipped, spilled small notebooks and pencils all over the floor. Spare change rolled across the walk way along with other items.

“Fuck...” you muttered. His head snapped towards you as you let out a sigh and bent down to pick up your things. Your phone that was your on your lap hit the ground as well. You saw his hand in the corner of your eye reaching down to help.

“I got it.” You say sternly, and shamelessly picking up your things. He retracts his hand, and instead gets up to pick up the items that were further away from you, ignoring your request not to help.

He sits back beside you, handful of change and pens. He holds it up towards you quietly while you attempt to fix your bag back to the way it was. You turn to look at him for what feels like the first time in forever, blue eyes pouring into your own (eye color) ones.

“I didn’t need you to do that.” You say, taking your things. You initially thought to take your things from him without a word. He went back to staring in front of himself, waiting to be called. You shifted uncomfortably, and fidgeted with your fingernails. You forced yourself into to pay attention to the soft music playing from the back of the office until he spoke.

“How have you been?”

For some odd reason though, you wanted him to say something to you. You had a lot of things to let off your chest considering the way things ended. You thought of giving him a piece of your mind right there in front of all the staff members, but you restrained yourself.

Instead, you found yourself saying “I’m doing great.”

“That’s good.” He says nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t even sound sure of his own response. A few minutes of silence resumes after. You’re a bit startled when speaks again.

“I’m definitely out of line right now, but I’ve been wanting to talk to you about some things.”

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” A lot. You were bubbling over.

“There’s a lot of things, at least for me, that I’ve never really told you.” He’s looking at you now. “Can we talk somewhere quieter? Whenever you’ve got the free time, and only if you want to.”

He was offering closure to you a bit too late. Or maybe all this time you’d convinced yourself you’d moved on. You often found yourself replaying the morning he brought you home and all the things you should’ve said in that moment.

That’s not exactly moving on. Unfortunately, you also found yourself comparing him to Suguru more often then not. That’s not moving on either.

“Okay,” you said. “Later on today. Round 8pm.”

He looks thankful. Just as he spoke, your counselor called out to you to come into their office. You stand up, looking down at him.

“Cafe then?” He suggests.

“That’s fine. See you.” You shrugged. You didn’t care that much for the place. You heard him say goodbye as the door shut behind you.

You had half a mind to never speak to him ever again. Though both of you were using each other, he knowingly crossed a line, making you feel things for him in a situation where feelings weren’t supposed to be involved. And he never gave you a chance to truly address the situation. Now, almost a year later, he’s ready to speak to you on his own terms. You’d be sure to tell him you had no intentions of making amends with him. If you personally didn’t have interest in what he had to say, you wouldn’t bother gracing him with the ability to explain anything to you.

You would’ve made him suffer. He’s lucky you’re still a bit distraught about the situation. Any longer into your situation-ship with Suguru and Satoru wouldn’t even have the slightest chance at something like this.

Dinner with Suguru was transparent. He could tell something was on your mind but he didn’t pry much after his first attempt. The last time you both talked about Satoru he turned into a different person, and it didn’t sit right with you. You did your best to brush it off, assuming he was just protective over you. But Satoru’s warning in the library echoed in your subconscious more and more. Just what happened between them, and would it be okay for you to ask Suguru about it?

He wasn’t your boyfriend either, but you suppose he wanted to be? You hadn’t brought up the dating conversation in while and you probably wouldn’t until you situated the Satoru thing.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Suguru’s holding your face, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His smile is incredibly gentle and you feel guilty for keeping this from him.

Perhaps you should hold Suguru accountable too, for being so sweet to you like this. He informed you he wouldn’t up and leave unless you wanted him to and that he’d never say anything he didn’t mean. But after dealing with trauma from past relationships, affection like this was always perceived cautiously.

“I know,” you say, feeling his lips press against your forehead again. “It’s just not easy to talk about right now.”

“That’s alright,” he assures you. “I’m here whenever you’re ready.”

His lips connect with yours while his hands slide down your back. He feels you relax a bit, and that makes him smile. How could he possibly be a bad person?

“I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

You nod, watching him part from you and get into his car. You never did come to understand how he could afford it; a black Mercedes Benz-Coupe. You assumed that and his nice apartment were inherited wealth from his parents.

You wave at him before going into the station. Luckily he had things to attend to, and you didn’t have to bother making up anything about tonight. It was just barely any of his business, right?

You had an idea of what to expect from Satoru when you got there. You were rehearsing things you wanted to say in your head, some of them incredibly mean. You wanted to hurt his feelings too, if you had it in you. It didn’t take you long to get to the cafe, and you’d arrived early, already finding Satoru in the very back, furthest away from people. You gripped your bag strap, before sitting across from him.

“Hey, you’re early.” He says surprised, looking up at you from his phone.

“You’re the early one.” You say, not even cracking a smile.

“How are you?”

“Same as earlier. What did you want to talk about?”

He’s visibly gulping, and you’ve never seen him this nervous. He places his phone face down on the table, turning the sound off. You cross your arms.

“Right,” he lets out a heavy sigh. “Where should I start?” He attempts to gather his thoughts, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“I’m not the kind of guy who really addresses his feelings, if you couldn’t already tell at the time we, you know... I’ve been fucked over a lot. I don’t have a lot of actual friends, and I’m constantly aware that people cling to me for my money or looks.”

He never acted like his entourages bothered him per se, but you did notice that he never bothered being around people anymore when the two of you were a thing. You prompt him to continue with your eyes.

“The only best friend I’ve ever had used me until I realized what was going on and cut him off. The first girl I ever really loved chose him instead of me shortly afterwards. Obviously, it’s not a legitimate excuse to have treated you the way that I did, but I guess what I’m saying is that I’m cautious of people and have been for a long time now.”

“But I never tried to use you,” you interjected. You felt a bit insensitive for spitting it out like that, but he really did hurt you.

“I know, and I realized that a bit too late.” He sighs. “But more importantly, I realized that I didn’t talk about or convey my feelings correctly. I know I confused you a lot, and you didn’t deserve that at all.” He tried to keep eye contact with you when he spoke, but your lion like force was pretty strong.

“And when I dropped you off— I shouldn’t have said those things to you. You were so much more than a warm body to me. You were the first real friend I’ve had in a long time. Things got so cloudy for me since we were sleeping together. I didn’t know how to address it, and it freaked me out when you told me you wanted more. I should’ve been elated, but I suppose I didn’t want my heart broken again either.”

“So basically...” He breathed out, “I’m really sorry. I’ve got some messy emotions, things I’m gradually learning to deal with. I’m not making excuses for myself. It’s just I never did talk about myself much when we were a thing, so I wanted to tell you something at least, and apologize. I hated the way I left things. I know it’s long overdue for an apology but...”

“But?”

“I still have feelings for you. I never stopped. The more time passed, the harder it made it for me to apologize and tell you how I feel. And then I noticed you were going out with... him, so I thought it was too late. But I still wanted to try, I guess.”

He looked so awkward, you almost laughed. Apologies were definitely foreign to him. You could tell he meant it, but even so, he wouldn’t be getting a relationship out of you, if that’s want he wanted.

You let out a large sigh. For some weird reason all the angry things you wanted to say wouldn’t come out. You wanted to be angry at him but you just couldn’t. And your heart was swelling at the idea of him still having feelings for you. Did he really mean that?

“We’re not together. Not yet anyway— it’s complicated.” You crossed your legs and leant back in your seat. Suguru probably would’ve been your boyfriend already if you weren’t so stuck on Satoru.

“Oh,” he said quietly. You’d never seen him look so small, it was definitely out of character for him.

“I forgive you,” you lean forward, holding your head in your hands. All this time and you still had soft spot for him.

“Really?” He’s surprised. Your friends will be too after you tell them this story.

“You want me to take it back?” You’re pinching the bridge of your nose.

He chuckles nervously. “No ma’am.”

“Are you... doing okay though?” He probes after noticing the stress in your brows.

“I can’t stay mad at you. And I want to so bad. It’d make my life simpler. Now I’m conflicted.” You drag your fingers under your eyes, before smooshing your own face, stressfully so. He thought you were cute, but he felt bad being the source of your distraught-ness.

“So I take it you still have feelings for me?” His voice is regular now, and just barely his normal cocky tone.

You won’t even look at him. “I mean...”

How do you explain to him that the only reason you’re messing with someone right now, who just so happens to be his ex-best friend, is because you were trying to forget about him in the first place?

“I get it if you don’t.” He says. “It’s been a while.”

“I do.” It’s almost instinct for you to correct him. “That’s the problem.”

“Ah, I see.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck again. You wished you could start over with a clean slate. School and dating shouldn’t be this difficult.

Satoru thought to warn you again about Suguru in that moment, but he held his tongue. He didn’t want to make it seem as if he was badmouthing him so you could favor him more, he wanted you to lean towards him naturally, if possible.

Silence reigned throughout your little booth in the cafe. The sound of rain hitting the window screen made it easy not to talk so much. It also made it hard to see a certain black, long-haired male in his Mercedes Benz, parked just across the street.

Suguru threw his cigarette out the driver’s window, continuing to watch the both of you inside. He shook his head disappointedly before starting his car.

“And that reminds me,” you say, making Satoru swallow hard and shift in his seat.

“What was that nonsense two months prior, about Geto Suguru?”

[thesevro]

77 degrees

nanami kento x reader smut word count: 1.6K words

WARNINGS: Explicit SMUT, degradation kink, shower sex

HEAT RISES FROM water pouring from the showerhead above, while a different sort of heat fans from your panting mouth.

But your body is warmer than anything else.

Nanami pulls you closer to him by the bottom of your curved ass. His entire body is wet. Though his fingers are slick with something different.

His eyes are open. He watches with the relaxed, lidded gaze of a sneaking predator. Listens to your moans with the ears of a panther.

He slides his tongue further into your mouth. You are wet against his chest. Pressed into him with his arms clutching you in a snake-like vise. Body naked. Blushing red all over. 

You are the most appetizing prey he has ever feasted on.

Nanami kisses you until you can barely breathe through the hot steam rising into your nostrils and the water that has begun to drown you. He is a devilish predator gorging on snatched prey. Diving his tongue between your lips then sliding it out ever so slowly to let it warm the hot flesh of your neck. His teeth aid him in tasting every part of the sumptuous little meal he has, one made of quivering flesh and breathy moans of his name. He bruises you with his incisors. You squeeze his shoulders with each nip, tossing your head back to let him devour you further.

You say his name again, "Nanami... please..."

"What is it, darling?" he says. "Use your words."

"I just—ah!" You tremble, your thighs shaking around his hand. He thrusts three of his fingers into your hole. Diverts your attention from your words because he wants to play a little more.

Nanami slides his fingers out just as quickly as he slipped them inside you. Holds your hip to lead you to the wet shower wall. Your back touches the wall. You watch as his body follows yours to pin you to the cold tile. Every muscle bulges and ripples with his movements.

"Apologies, my love," he says softly. Gets a thigh between your legs and smirks ever so slightly as you rut once into the thick muscle of his leg. "What were you saying?"

"I need you inside me," you whine, grabbing hold of his shoulders to rut in slow, seductive motions on his thigh. A lovely sigh escapes him as he feels your hole clench on his thigh.

"How badly do you want it?" he asks. "You're going to have to deserve it."

You frown with palpable discontent. Then you pounce on him. It is your turn to be the prowling predator.

Nanami retracts his leg from between yours to lean into you as you pull him to you. You open your mouth to bite at his collarbone with unrelenting clenches of your jaw. Nanami savors the sharp pricks of pain. Lets you have your fun.

Then he snaps your head back with a hand behind your head and hefts you up so you lie balanced between his body and the wall. A hand grips your thigh in a vise, palm on the back of your thigh while his fingers press into the outside of your leg.

"You want it, darling?" He prods at your slick with his shaft. Slides his cock up and down your cunt but never slipping it inside. "Show me how badly you want it."

Although... he has a feeling he wants you more.

Your pussy twitches around the length of his cock as he thrusts it against you once more. Always teasing. Never meeting what you beg for him to give you with your eyes.

"Please, Nanami," you whine. He indulges in your touch, your sounds, your warmth. Tries to quell the desperation welling up so monstrously inside him he almost ruts straight into you without a second thought.

"Please..." He leans into your ear. "What?"

"Please fuck me."

He chuckles. "Of course, darling."

You gasp with the first thrust. Throw your head back into the wall. With your throat bare to him he cannot help but sink his teeth into the water-wet flesh there, nibbling and nipping with the hunger of an emaciated predator. Nanami's brows furrow. You've always been so damn tight.

He draws his hips back to pound another thrust into you. He takes it slow, but makes each rut of his hips hard enough to send you scrabbling for purchase along the wide berth of his shoulders. He presses his forehead to yours. You hook your hands together from behind his neck to pull him closer. Kiss him with an open mouth and a lolling tongue he licks with his own. Your eyes are closed. He keeps his open. He's always loved seeing you like this, seeing how easy it is for him to make a mess of you with his cock.

You twitch into him. Pussy squeezing his cock, his naked thighs meeting yours. Nanami revels in each clench of your pussy. Slams into you harder with each one, the sounds of his cock sliding into you so deliciously obscene. So wet. Fucking you is like sliding into a hot vat of smooth, exquisite butter.

He forces you to look at him, grasping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. You can barely focus. Barely see him with the sinful jolts of pleasure shooting up your core with each thrust he slips into you. Your flowering folds suck him in with an eagerness even you have no control of.

Nanami warms over with a sick sense of pride at your crossed eyes. He drops his head into the junction between your shoulder and neck. Lets his hand fall to hold both your thighs open.

The next thrust he pushes into you is a harsh pound that makes your body seize up in pleasure. You cry out. Try to push yourself away from him.

"N-Nanami!" You are only allowed seconds to relish the hedonism before he truly begins to fuck you. Your eyes roll back. Toes curl. It is too much. "Nanami, please! Stop. Slow down!"

He pays your begging no mind. For once, Nanami Kento decides to be selfish.

"You tell me to stop when you're moaning like that?" he says into your ear with the trace of a laugh. "When you're milking my cock like a desperate whore."

Your body seizes up again. You seem to enjoy the denigration. He pulls the words from his lungs without really putting much breath into them. They are airy. Not real truths.

As long as it makes you feel good.

He's so close he barely has to lean forward to tongue the shell of your ear. His chest presses into yours while he plays with you.

"As if I'll stop now," he says. "There's still so much I can do with you."

He wraps your other leg around his waist. The movement frees one of his hands. He looks down to calculate his movements even when he doesn't particularly have to.

Nanami groans out loud at the sight of his cock meeting your pussy. At the unholy way he can see his cock slipping right into your hole. It's so much of a stretch that your pussy glows a swollen red. Every nerve on his cock erupts at the sight. He nearly cums.

"Look at that," he says. "Taking my cock so, so well. Do you really want me to stop?"

Drool slides down the corner of your mouth. He asks the question again, more firmly this time. It takes several moments for the words to register, and when they do you immediately shake your head.

"N-no, no! Please, don't stop."

"There we are." His fingers slide over to tease your sopping folds. "That's how it should be."

His thumb works up from just above the point where his cock grinds into your pussy to settle on the swollen bud of pleasure that he knows will make you unwind quick and sweet as honey.

With his forehead against yours, he watches as you unfold before him, his fingers and hips never ceasing their ferocious motions. He watches as your eyes cross, then shuts his as he finally reaches his high.

The sounds of your love-making grow slicker. White spills from your convulsing hole. His cock softens with the last shallow, slow thrusts he slips into you. His eyes remain closed. He savors everything with his other senses.

The smell of sex is heady in your nose. Heavier in his. He pants. You do, too, tired breaths mingling with his.

When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and he takes this as an opportunity to apologize for the words that had slipped from him earlier. He runs a hand through your wet hair. Cups your cheek with his hand. Each action is worth a thousand apologies, but he says one all the same.

"Darling, I'm sorry for calling you what I did earlier. You're anything but a—"

"Shut up," you mutter. "Call me that again and I might just ask for another round. And I'm exhausted."

Well. That's new.

"Though next time I do not want to go that far," he says. "It is not right of me."

"Baby," you say, "You can call me your little cum dump or whatever else you can think of and I would still beg for you to fuck me."

"That is a... tasteless pet name." He shakes his head. "Who comes up with such degrading combinations?"

"William Shakespeare."

"Then I must be a better lover than he ever was."

"Don't make me laugh while you're literally inside me."

[sooniesspot]

Coming Down | myg

Okay, so here's the second installment of my BADLANDS Series. This is loosely based around Coming Down by Halsey. I realise I haven't really done them in a specific order, just the one I am pulled to next to write.

Warnings: Dom!Yoongi, Sub!Reader, mentions of slight work stress and societal pressures of being a woman, you know. All that good stuff.

Reader is a F E M I N I S T and proudly so. Loose mention of not wanting kids (which is fine btw) this is just a whole load of smut, not much fluff as it's FWB but.

Okay so, oral, f & m receiving, face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, light spanking, choking (for like a milisecond) use of ties, slight sensory deprivation, slight body worship, overstimulation. Slight name-calling?? Yoongs says kitten ironically. Use of safe word/safe signal. Yoongles has a Sir Kink. (I can only apologise) Reader has a hand kink (obvs) just wants to get off and relieve stress, Yoongi is happy to be their relief.

word count: 9.8k 👀🐸☕ don't @ me

'I found God, I found him in a lover'

It was a normal Thursday evening, you'd finished work at 6pm on the dot and took the bus home. Fishing for your keys as you approached the front door of your apartment. Key in the lock, turn. Open. Silence. Walking into your hallway, slippers not quite on the rack by the front door as you rushed out of them into your heels this morning. Just where you left them. Sliding off your heels with a sigh as you trudged into your slippers, immediately comforted by the soft memory foam that supported your tiresome toes. Returning your heels to the rack. Shrugging off your bag and long coat, reaching nearly 2 feet above you on your tiptoes to hang your bag and coat on the coat rack. Muttering to yourself like you did every day. 'Coat and bag, then heels. Won't have to stretch so much.' Venturing into the living room. Magazine on the coffee table infront of the sofa where you had left it last night.

Empty. Not that you expected anyone to be home. No one making you dinner you didn't want, or taking up the whole sofa, or hogging the remote. You lived alone, and you liked it. Sure, for a pretty young girl in her mid twenties you often had looks and questions.

'When are you going to find the one?'

'When will you settle down and have a family?'

And truth be told, you didn't want to settle down. You had told your mother from a young age that you didn't want children, whether that would change over time or not you weren't sure. It hadn't changed. You still wanted your independence and that was okay. Women were not put on this earth just to bear children and you were the firmest believer in that. You liked your life just the way it was. A job you loved that you worked hard for, an apartment you were proud of and nearly every night you got to sleep in your own bed, alone, no one to whine at when they snored or your body being used as a warmer for their cold feet. The few nights you were away from your bed came from your once in a while rendezvous with an acquaintance of yours. Although you knew eachother more than mere acquaintances should.

You met at a bar some time ago. Lights flashed, sure to give you a migraine and music so loud your eardrums could burst at any given moment. You were dragged out to this stingy bar by your bestfriend in her attempt to finally get noticed by that one guy. Even in her twenties she was still as smitten as when you were both back at school. You wore a simple black dress with a low cut front, skirt just above the knee and plain black heels. Hair not much different to your everyday, maybe a few waves here and there and some more mascara than your normal work volume. Trying your best to blend in but still having the ornate ability to have eyes on you in any setting.

You spent a lot of time on the dance floor until your friend had found her prey and you circled around the bar. Much rather wanting to stay at home with a tub of ice cream and your cat watching some terrible reality show about Cabin Crew on a cruise ship. Shouting at the TV to throw the nasty woman overboard; waving your spoon at the screen as your cat looked on in understanding almost. But here you were, slumped against a sticky varnished oak bar, propped up on an old velvet stool, twisting your straw in your glass, nonchalantly spinning the steadily melting ice as you listened to your friend talking to her guy. Suddenly feeling a hot hand against your lower back and someone lean over the bar between you and your otherwise occupied friend. Looking up at a pale man to your left.

" Whiskey on the rocks. " came his order to the bar tender; sharp, leaving no room for anything blasé.

Catching his eye, he looked you over once with a subtle bite of his lip and the flick of his tongue at the seam of his mouth; eyebrow raised with a lingering smirk before he vanished into the sea of people again with his drink.

Dumbfounded, you sat there, staring at the now empty spot where he had been mere seconds ago, the now cool expanse of your lower back where his large hand once was, fizzing. Swinging round on your stool, propping your elbow on the bar behind you, your eyes scanned the room. It wasn't the biggest bar. It wouldn't take long to find him.

Soon you caught eyes with him across the dance floor, stood with his taller, tanned friends as he held the whiskey glass firm in his hand; talking amongst themselves. Dark Brown, almost black hair feathered across his forehead, just above his twinkling chocolate eyes. Thin upper lip pressing to his plumper bottom lip before perfect white teeth graced your vision in an endearing gummy smile. Eyes still not catching you between the bodies of people dancing. Several silver hoop earrings in each ear. He wore a long black sweatshirt, black ripped jeans and boots. A couple of silver rings adorned his strong fingers.

You took a sip of your drink, gaze intermittently fluttering in his direction as you scanned the room, your friend had left to go and dance. Eyes found her and you nodded, knowing she was fine. As your stare focused back on the man before you he finally looked up, catching your eye with his, dark and mysterious. His lips pulling into a smirk again as he gazed at you. Heat bubbling in your chest from his wandering eyes on your body through the gap in people on the dance floor. He eventually made his way over to you and whispered a few words into your ear. Cool and calm.

" Come back to my hotel. "

And so you did. One slightly drunk, intense one night stand later and here you were, 6 months down the line sleeping with eachother whenever he was in town. A classic Friends With Benefits situation, although you weren't really friends.

You walked into your kitchen, greeting your ginger tabby cat with a kiss as she meowed at you in greeting. Grabbing yourself a glass for water and pouring kibble into her bowl on the floor, your routine monotonous but you didn't mind. Your cat tucking into her dinner as you filled up your glass, taking a sip. Looking at delivery menus on your fridge under old magnets from previous travels, deciding on Chinese; plucking the menu from the fridge, you had a training day for other colleagues at work tomorrow which meant a day off for you. No needing to cook dinner and get an early night tonight. Placing your glass and the menu on the coffee table in the living room, you switched on the tv, chucking any random show on then bumbling along to your room, opening the door. Greeted by quiet and serenity. No dirty pants on the floor or unmade bed. You smiled with contentment, unzipping your dress to pool at your feet before tossing it into your wash basket. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your most dependable black bra and panty set glaring back at you as you fixed your hair into a ponytail and wiped off your makeup. Throwing on a sweatshirt and some leggings. A short while later you plopped yourself down on the sofa and switched on the tv, greeting your cat with a scratch under her chin as she sauntered into the room, hopping up on the sofa with you.

Zoning out to the world around you as a terrible drama played on in the background as you glanced over the menu, not really paying attention to anything in particular. You had been a little stressed over the past couple of weeks, mounting pressures of a new senior in your department threatening to change everything you had sculpted into a balanced working environment over the last 3 years. Societal pressures and backhanded compliments from your mother's 'garden party' friends concerning whether or not you were defective in choosing a man. Or having one choose you. But in reality, the truth is, you had a stable relationship previously, unfortunately he was a dick and you're not stupid. So the single life had been your rather quiet reality for the last 18 months. No one to answer to or to worry about. Just you and your cat.

Your mothers friends never seemed to understand that, always too engrossed in whether or not you had a man on top of you every night to see that their husbands had found other, much younger women to be on top of. All of this filtering through the crack in your hardened shell, filling your mind with alternate realities until you got a text coming through. Cutting through all the fuzz that piqued in your brain. Picking up your phone, you saw who it was. Him.

'I'm in town, come over?' 

Your reply was short and sweet.

'Sure, be over in 20.'

Snapping out of your previous thoughts and placing the menu back on the coffee table you sat and pondered for a minute. This was fine. This was what you needed. To let off some steam, in a judgement free setting. No cold glances your way, or harsh words uttered, unless it was you being tied to the headboard again like you had been convinced to try last time with his unadulterated gaze looking down at you writhing underneath him. The thought alone had your hair standing on end and a shiver running through you as you stood from the sofa, heading to your room.

Sifting through your wardrobe to pull on some old trainers, checking yourself in the mirror not really knowing why. In your hallway you made sure the lights in the apartment were off and your cat was happy, tucked up in the corner of the sofa snoozing away. Making sure you had your keys and phone in your bag, you left, key in the lock, turn. Locked. Walking down the hallway and down to the ground floor, heading out of the building to head right. The hotel he always stayed at was only a block or so away so the walk was relatively short. The sun was setting now as it hid behind the skyscrapers that canopied the city. Passers by making their way home or even to work. Still lots of cars on the road and bicycles that weaved in and out of traffic. The breeze was light and cherry blossoms danced in the air, separating from a tree as you passed a nearby park. The air was cool, as it would be in early May. Not too hot. Reminded of your journey, that first night.

'When his hair falls in his face and his hands so cold they shake'

You had left swiftly after his original proposition, making up some story about your cat or an early work meeting or something. Anything to get you out of there and with him. His hand returned to the small of your back as you left the bar, being ushered into an awaiting taxi outside. Shuffling all the way over to the other side, he slid in next to you blurting out the address to the hotel at the driver. Hair falling in his face. Eyes wild as they sparkled from the reflection of the dim streetlights. Smirking at you as the same powerful hand you had grown accustomed to on your back, made a home on your knee, slightly tucked under the skirt of your dress. It was now cold to the touch. Strong and intimidating as the taxi started to drive away. Not being able to take his eyes off you he leant forward and whispered in your ear.

" You look so delicious. " His voice low that reverberated through you, straight to your core as he squeezed your knee. Uttering the last syllable with a kitten lock to the shell of your ear.

To this you bit your lip and shifted uncomfortably in your seat. His hand, in turn sliding further up under your dress to the wider expanse of your thigh. The material of your dress pressing his hand taught against your skin.

He swooped down to your ear again, pressing an open mouthed kiss under your ear before he whispered " can't wait to taste you. "

You keened away from his grasp to no avail. He knew what he was doing to you, breath shallow and flighty in your chest as his teeth tugged at your earlobe.

"Please " You breathed, the first word you uttered to him.

Not really sure what you were pleading him for but the fire in your chest and the dampness of your panties flourished an urgency within you that was incorrigible. He smirked again at this, eyes dancing like Fireflies in the night. The hand that was to his side while the other hid between your thighs came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him.

"Soon. " He chuckled before biting your lip.

Drawn back to reality, passing people and cars. Your trainers pulling you towards your destination as your head had an argument with your feet. Was this a good idea? You didn't want to get yourself into a situation where either of you caught feelings. You were a pro at being a cold hearted bitch now but the odd sincere glance your way, especially from him seemed to melt your resolve, even just a little. Recounting the previous times you had taken this walk and what it would lead to.

After your first night with him, it was like a drug. You always wanted more. To say he was good in the bedroom was a complete cop out. He was...He was something. Made you feel things you'd never felt before and noises you'd never in your wildest dreams imagine yourself making. At decibels only a dog could hear. So once the addiction started, you started seeing one another everytime he was in town. Sometimes a couple of times in a week. That went on for a solid 4 months and as work pressures mounted, you fell distant. Always busy catching up with work or having some alone time with your thoughts and your cat. He also got busy, having to travel more for work. You didn't really know much about except it was important and you felt based on the guitar he always packed with him, propped up against the wall in the corner of the room, it was something to do with music.

'I found a devil, I found him in a lover'

The last time you had seen eachother had been a little over 2 weeks ago. That night you'd stayed, which didn't come easily. You were adamant you would leave as soon as you'd cleaned up, even telling him so as he helped you wash in the bathroom, almost requesting a second round when he looked at you through the mirror with those sparkling brown eyes like the devil, but you had been so wound up and pushed to your limits that you felt sleep take you as soon as your body hit the mattress again. Memories of restraints, dark water colours that created the murky palette of his hotel room and the low thumping of your heart, even as you entered the apartment, seeing him there, a tie in hand and a coy smirk. That night he had called you. He never called.

" You busy? " He sounded gruff like he'd just finished working out - which you knew not to be the case.

"When am I ever busy? " You rebuttled with a laugh.

He joined you, then you could hear him grin down the phone. A different sort of grin. A devious one.

"I wanted to try something. "

There was quiet, you wished him to continue silently.

"Something I can't stop thinking about doing to you. " He whispered lowly.

Your ears on fire and furiously red in the face you hung up. Chucking a quick 'omw' text to him in return. That night had been the best sex you'd ever had. That's why you'd stayed. For fear of walking into oncoming traffic at 2am because of your disorientated state.

Your heart skipped a beat at the anticipation of what was to come once you knocked on the door and it sent a thrill through you. Rounding the corner you were met with a bleak grey concrete block of apartments that made up the hotel with a black sign. Crossing the street after looking both ways you jogged up the steps as you saw the door beginning to close after a couple just exited. Sliding in you headed straight for the elevator.

He always had the same hotel room which avoided any confusion. You ran to the elevator that had just opened and pressed the 7th floor. Alone again your mind wandered to your first night here, in this lift.

You'd both stumbled out of the taxi and shuffled over to the lift, he pressed the elevator button furiously as he got impatient; leaning against eachother. As soon as the lift doors were closed he pressed you against the wall, face millimetres from yours as his nose skimmed over yours. Both of your breathing, laboured and slow. His large hands roamed your body; your waist, up and down your thighs. Gripping at the flesh as if he owned it. You wanted him to. God you wanted him to own all of you in that moment. Gaze intense and unwavering as the mysterious glint in his eye grew. His hands slid around the curve of your ass which made you stutter, giving it a harsh squeeze that made you lose your breath.

"I'm gonna ruin you." He whispered devilishly in your ear as he bit the shell.

Pulled out of your reverie as the elevator doors dinged open, signalling you had reached your floor, face burning as you stepped out of the lift, cold fingers pressed to your cheeks to try and cool them. Preparing yourself for what man would greet you at the door. You never knew which one you would get. Sometimes he was ravenous and you never made it to the bed, lipstick smeared and tights ripped as he never had time to waste when he felt such a desperate need for you. Or you would get the cool calm and collected man that caught your eye that night all those months ago. That was, until he got you here. Alone with him.

Walking down the corridor to his room now, counting the doors as they seemed to go on for miles, dark in wood with numbers etched in gold with golden handles. Your breath starting to slip away from you as you imagined as soon as you opened that door you wouldn't be able to breathe steadily again for a while. Room 93. (Shoutout to Halsey's first EP) There it was. You slowed to a stop, almost nervous to knock. 'Just knock' You muttered to yourself. Rolling your eyes as you fidgeted on the spot, sighing as you raised your hand to knock on the door. Knock. Wait. Silence.

You were waiting for a little while which was unlike any other time. Checking your watch and the door number. You waited a little longer and you were just about to walk away when the door opened slowly. You turned; met with the same dancing brown eyes you caught in yours all those months ago, although slightly sunken, maybe he hadn't been sleeping well? His lean frame propped up against the door. Arms folded over his broader chest. Hair fluffed over his forehead, slightly damp. Pale skin flawless and glowing against the dark background of his hotel room and the darkness of his simple black tee and sweatpants. Silver hoops still adorned his ears and rings still glistened on his beautiful hands. Eyes unwavering as they honed in on you. Smirk playing on his thin lips.

"You're early." He mumbled all knowingly, looking at the rings that adorned his knuckles, as if he were about to connect them with a wall.

You stuttered, heart in your mouth as you gawked at the man. Feeling like a naughty school girl that was about to get a ruler spanked across her a-. You stopped the thought for fear of collapsing in the hallway. His eyes still on you, looking you up and down. You mentally slapped yourself for your attire. Sweatshirt and leggings. Not sexy in the slightest. Anyway. Why did you care? Not like you wanted to impress him, right? After another beat his strong arm pulled you in the room by the collar of your sweatshirt, closing the door swiftly behind you and pinning you up against it.

"Just means I have more time." He whispered against your lips.

Sweeping strands of hair out of your face delicately, tucking his fingers behind your ears. He smiled at you, his gummy smile. You never thought that smile would be directed at you. Let alone in this setting.

'With his lips like tangerines, and his colour-coded speak'

His lips moulded to yours with a sudden urgency. Teeth and tongue caressing your lips with power and want. Heavy breaths exchanged as you dropped your bag; hands trying to find purchase somewhere sturdy and stable. Deciding upon the strength of his arms. Eyes closing as you were swept away in the moment of teeth and tongue and pent up tension and wanton need for eachother. His fingers pulling out your hairband so your hair pooled around your face. His fingers lacing through the soft locks as he grinned against your lips. Always having an ornate infatuation with how silky your hair was. How good it felt wrapped around his fist as he fucked you into the mattress. How it spread out behind you like waves across the crisp white bedsheets, framing your face perfectly as you slept.

He missed this. Maybe he missed you. Jolted back from his sweet thoughts, hearing you start to mumble against his lips as he continued to pin you up against the door, your head firmly in his hands.

"Yoongi." You murmured again, slurring the word slightly; drunk off the potent lust he cradled you with.

He never let up from your lips, intent on breathing you in. Hands untangling themselves from your hair as his cool calm hands landed on your shoulders, moving you away from the door to pin you to a wall, nearer to the bed. An eventual destination set in his mind. He couldn't get enough of you. Your hands travelled to cup his cheeks. His lips dry against yours gaining moisture from the saliva rolling around in your mouths as your tongues fought. Small whimpers beginning to swim their way into the air. Music to his ears. Of all the music he'd ever had a hand in creating, he wished he could emulate your tiny whimpers. Your cries for more of him. All of him. Wanting to devour him whole.

"Fuck" He exclaimed, finally pulling away from you, heavy breathing as his forehead was against yours.

Not even giving you time to breath he reached for the hem of your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your gorgeous body to his hungry eyes. Knowing now that hiding from his gaze would be futile. An attempt at covering up would leave your ass raw and marks all over every single inch of your body. God's above. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, to him you practically were. He never sought out for any other attention or company from other women. The taste of you as often as he could have you was more than enough to satiate his heart.

He made quick work of your bra before throwing his own shirt off onto the growing pile on the floor. His hands, rough against your soft, plush breasts as his thumbs circled around your pebbling nipples. His teeth latching onto your bottom lip, humming as he looked into your steadily closing eyes. Teeth venturing south along your jaw to your neck and collarbone as he began to grab at the skin of your waist after he finished moulding your breasts; as if trying to memorise the feeling of them in his hands. The weighted comfort he had grown to adore about your chest. Teeth sinking in, enticing low gasps and the tiniest of squeaks as he would bite too hard on already sensitive flesh, intent on getting every inch of your skin covered in small indentations from his teeth. Tongue lascivious against the contours of your neck and collarbones, sickly sweet taste of your skin that drove him wild.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

All you could do was pant and mule against him, your hands in his steadily drying locks. Suddenly pulling away as he untied the drawstring of his pants.

"Knees, now." He whispered authoritively and you happily obeyed.

Flicking your hair off your shoulder you sank down onto your knees. Eyes ignited with a fire he practically stoked out of you. You admired his body on the journey down. Body lithe and pale, defined arms and chest with a flat stomach, no six pack or defined v lines that led to the promising tent that you saw in your line of sight. Just a small happy trail of hair from below his belly button sneaking into the hem of his sweatpants. Swiftly taking them down and off you were greeted with black boxers, looking tight around his cock cased within. You licked your lips in anticipation as his fingers forked through the hair on your scalp. Looking up to his face as he gazed down at you with a stern look in his own eyes; burning into your already flushed skin.

"Someone looks like they've missed this." He smirked as your hand rose to palm him through his boxers.

He released a low hum at the feeling of your hand cupping his balls. You knew that he was very sensitive there, from past experiences.

"Does the slut want my cock?" He asked, a feather of a chuckle rumbled in his chest at your immediate nod as you ran your tongue over the seem of your lips.

Your fingers delved underneath the fabric as you began to pull them down. Sudden slap to your hands had you shying away from him.

"Hungry sluts have to wait don't they, kitten?" His eyes zeroing in on your reaction to the pet name.

You gritted your teeth in vague annoyance at the name, after the first night, you told him you had to be home for your cat. Finding it oddly adorable you were a cat lady he called you kitten ironically, now it's stuck. Your eyes looking away from him, turning your head slightly towards the large window that showed the rest of the city. Twinkling lights now shining in the moonlight. His hand gripped your chin, pulling your attention back to him, forcing you to look up into his devious eyes.

"I don't think you answered me, slut." He snarled; releasing your chin from his grasp.

Your heart jumped in your chest.  "Y-yes, sir."

He smirked again, feeling triumphant he patted your head, thumb smoothing over your hair line with ghost like touches before running it along the seem of your mouth, popping his thumb in, flat against your tongue. Closing your lips around him, beginning to suck, big eyes gazing up at him.

"Good girl." He whispered before removing his thumb from your mouth and yanking his boxers down and stepping out of them.

His fingers danced through his damp hair as his cock sprung up against his stomach, a muted groan as the cool air touched his reddened and straining cock. Your eyes widened, never getting used to the sight of his cock, inches away from your salivating mouth, making your panties pool with a carnal need for him to be inside you. Your hands began to rub up and down your jeans clad thighs, waiting with baited breath for him to give you the command. This man and the things you'd do for him would have others question if you were a feminist or not. How a strong single woman with a steady career and bustling social life could want to be so utterly defiled by a man and be at his every whim really flipped your ideology on its head. But a drug was a drug, and you were high on him like cocaine.

"Alright, stop giving me those bedroom eyes." He gushed, dominating voice faltering as he gazed down at you, waiting and ready for him to let you begin.

You fluttered your eyelashes at him, big and bold. Biting your lip as your hands rubbed along your thighs again.

"Fuck, just get over here." He laughed, holding the base of his cock in his hand as your hands slunk up his sturdy pale thighs.

Fingertips sending sparks through his body. Your lips reaching his tip, you looked up at him again as you kitten licked his bulbous tip, testing it. Like testing a car. He hissed to which you smirked. You took your tongue to lick the underside of his cock lightly, teasing his frenulum before swirling your tongue round his tip several times. He puffed out a harsh breath but never said a word, fingers beginning to weave into your hair with a softness you were unfamiliar with. Surrounding the tip with your lips as you slowly sunk the head into your waiting mouth. Giving kitten links to the underside again as you sucked on his tip for a moment. Yoongis breath was heavy, you could tell by his chest moving, half lidded eyes looking down at you as you took more of him in slowly. Tongue still licking everywhere you could. Your other hand still positioned on his thigh as you rubbed small circles in it with your thumb.

Starting to take him deeper in your mouth and pulling him back out for breath had him seeing double. His vision was blurred as he could feel your heavenly lips wrap around his strained cock, precum and spit starting to pool at the corners of your mouth; threatening to spill as you bobbed your head back and forth on his dick. Setting up a rhythm you plunged him in deep so your nose touched his abdomen and he threw his head back with a grunt; gritting his teeth.

"Uh, fuck. Your mouth is so good" He whispered into the air.

'I've got a lover and I'm unforgiven, I'm such a fool to pay this price'

Your mouth worked on him as well as it could. You would take a lot of him in and proceed to gag which made him grunt. As your hand began to work at the base of his shaft. Giving him your all. Making up for lost time.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last." He hissed. His hands in spearing through your hair as his thumbs rubbed at your scalp.

"I should've kept my hands to myself... Always impatient." He chuckled menacingly to himself; shaking his head.

Your breath was heaving as you pulled back from him. Hands gripping his thighs tight as you looked up at the man towering above you.

"What do you say, will you let me fuck your mouth like a good pet?"  He asked, hands still in your hair.

"Make me cum, then it's your turn? How about it, kitten?"

No hesitation in your eyes as you gazed up at him as if he had hand painted all of the stars in the sky. You nodded profusely and he grinned at you; swiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

"Good girl, remember your safe signal?"  He asked, almost sweet in his tone.

You tapped the back of his thigh 3 times with your finger and he nodded. Feathering his fingers through your hair again, your hand still at the base of his dick lining him up to your waiting mouth. You gave him the go ahead as he thrusted shallowly into your mouth at first. Finally in your mouth his hands speared through your hair behind your ears to hold you still as he began to move his hips back and forth. You had done this before. Let him do this. But this time was so raw and so needy you honestly couldn't fathom how much you needed this. And it wasn't even your turn. He began to set up a rhythm working his length deeper with every thrust; starting to make you gag as you tried your best to relax. He breathed in sharply, his head thrown back as he pumped in and out. His shaft gliding smoothly across your tongue and beginning to slip down your throat as you sputtered around him. Hands firmly gripping the back of his thighs, the same way he was gripping your hair.

"Fuck, fuck. Your mouth. Kills me." He mumbled to himself; thinking you couldn't hear.

You looked up at him, a picture of bliss. Arms locked in place, keeping you still as he slid in and out of your mouth, picking up speed now. The veins in his neck; protruding under a velvet blanket of Frosted skin. Teeth gritted and brows furrowed. He looked down to see you already watching him. To this he groaned deep within his chest at the sight of you so willing and ready for him. Setting his nerves alight he could feel his orgasm approaching. Gripping your hair even tighter as he gave you a moment to breath before jackhammering into your mouth with a low whine.

"Fuck. Holy shit." He whispered before you felt his cock twitch deep in your throat and thick ropes of cum travel down it as he came; hips jerking at weird angles as you noticed sweat beading across his neck and collarbones; reaching up to his hairline.

After he had composed himself he pulled out of your mouth and you swallowed everything still left in your mouth before opening your mouth to show it was empty. He ran a solid hand through his own hair before he pulled you to your feet; planting a heavy kiss to your lips as he walked you back towards the bed. Practically pushing you back on it with a soft bounce. He suddenly rounded to the other side of the hotel room rummaging through a suitcase. Soon returning with several black ties in hand. Giving you a knowing smirk. You felt your stomach sink at the memory of your last adventure with this man. In this hotel room. With those ties. But judging by the look on his face and the fact his previously lifeless cock had begun to spring to life again; you knew it was different.

'I found a martyr, he told me that I'd never'

He began to move you up the bed to where he saw fit. Nodding when he had got you where he wanted. Straddling your waist he grabbed an arm tying the tie around your wrist to then loop it around the headboard. He soon did the same to the other one. Then finally you saw him gazing down at you from above before he slipped a soft silk tie over your eyes fastening it behind your head. Everything went black, but you could hear him; feel him. All around you. Feeling weight either side of your head you suddenly felt breath over your nipple; squirming at the sensation and your clothed pussy clenching around nothing. You felt him kitten lock his way along your breast before landing an unexpected bite against your neck, causing you to pull against the restraints with a sharp intake of breath.

"Remember your safe word, kitten?" He whispered in your ear.

You nodded. "Seesaw."

He sat back on his heels; still straddling you. Crossing his arms with a nod.

"Why is it Seesaw, again?" You ask, a grin sliding onto your face.

He chuckled at this before you felt weight lifted from the bed. You skin crawling with goosebumps as you waited with anticipation. Suddenly feeling deft fingers pulling your leggings and panties down in one swift movement. A beat of silence. Feeling like forever until you felt the same fingers, calloused but oh so soft against the skin of your collarbone.

"You don't remember?" He whispered into the darkness.

You shook your head no as your body began to squirm. Feeling his finger trail delicately down to your chest, followed by his other pointer finger on his left. Circling your nipples in precise motions. You sucked in a breath and your back arched as you felt him blow cool air onto the perking bud.

"Oh kitten, it was the bar where we first met" You could hear the smirk evident in his voice as his fingers trailed underneath the curve of your breasts.

"The night I took you home and ate you so good you nearly passed out." A dry chuckle left his lips at the gasp that left your own.

He began to drag his sturdy fingers slowly; tantalisingly, in soft motions towards your belly button where he would branch out with delicate touch; placing more fingers on your skin as they circled your hipbones. Finally sloping down to your thighs where his grip became firm and he pryed your legs apart to expose you to him. Heat flashing across your face as you whimpered at the action. Oh god. The things he made you feel. You felt electricity surge through your body, bouncing off your bones as you heard him hum.

"Mmmm. So wet, just from sucking my cock, kitten?"

You bit your lip with a whine; nodding profusely. Blush creeping across your cheeks. He seemed to like this as you heard a deep rumbled in his chest in approval. You could feel the bed dip slightly due to transferred weight. Right between your legs. Shit. If only you could see him. What was he doing? Was he pleased? Oh fuck, you didn't shave your le- your thoughts were far removed as you felt lips across the inside of your thigh; just above your knee.

"Shit, I can't wait to taste you." He whispered; sending cool air rushing up to your core.

Feeling his lips drag effortlessly along your thigh to where you wanted him most; needed him. He was tender; savouring the moment. He had missed this, giving you what you wanted. Watching you underneath him. Tasting you; devouring you. That's why he was so quick to cum the first time around. Too excited by the thought of having you again he had started to touch himself in the shower. Thinking of your soft, sweet body; Bending to his every whim. Your mouth stuffed full of his cock. Your enticing wet pussy that always made you blush at the sounds it would make, as he would fuck you. Hard and rough. He groaned at the thought before his face was level with your heat. Soft breaths that made your body wriggle; desperate to escape and want more; all at once. He hooked your knees over his elbows as he held your legs down. blowing against your exposed clit and watching your pussy clench around nothing; glistening with your essence he hungered for.

'With his educated eyes, and his head between my thighs'

"Mmmm. Sweet pussy baby girl." He kissed the apex of your thigh watching you writhe against the restraints. He hadn't even started yet. You were in for a long night.

You didn't seem to notice the name at first. It wasn't what he had called you any of the times before. But as the air thinned out around you; feeling the silence weighted around the room like a thick curtain and nothing was corrected, it almost felt affectionate; coming from his sinful lips that had just attached themselves to your-

"Fuck." Your breath caught as you threw your head back against the mattress.

Feeling lips suckling against your clit with vigor. He knew what you liked and knew how to get you where he wanted you. His tongue began lapping at your clit as his lips sucked where they could. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to pull against the restraints; your legs restless as the odd whimper left parted lips. His eyes although you couldn't see him, were focused on you. Watching every bite of your lip, every salacious moan or whimper; every gasp. You began rocking your hips in a rhythm against his tongue and he moaned at the pressure you posed against him. Trying to feel some friction as his throbbing cock had sprung to life from your first whimper; sandwiched between his abdomen and the mattress.

"God, this pussy is so good." He moaned; muffled by your legs trying so hard to clamp around his head as he continued his ministrations.

Soon enough you could feel the familiar rope spread throughout your body, begin to coil; tight as a spring before you felt a nip to your clit and you unravelled underneath him. Feeling weightless and weighted all at once. Stars beneath the blanket of the silk tie; delicate against your eyes. Head thrashing around as arms pulled with all their might against the restraints. Your back arched as you moaned loudly; legs starting to shake at the force of your orgasm. But that wasn't the end.  He flicked his tongue against your swollen clit with more intent. Determined to push you through another orgasm before he even started using his fingers. God his fingers. Your lower body began to lift off the bed as his grip on your legs only got tighter.

"Fuck, fuck Yoongi. Oh my fucking g-"

You heard an animalistic growl as you felt another nip to your clit; yelping at the sudden spark of pain amongst your pleasure.

"Sir. Stick to the rules." He punctuated with a slap to your clit. Back arching for a moment as you felt a pulse throughout your body.

"Or I'll keep biting." He mumbled the last part.

You pouted. "Yes sir." You could feel your orgasm beginning to ebb away as he took longer to return to your clit.

You whined and you felt breath on your clit again as he chuckled. Although your predicament was purely casual. Wanting to get off essentially was your main goal. Neither of you ever rushed. Enjoying one another's company. Feeling his slick, swift tongue dancing along your clit again you moaned; trying so hard to keep quiet out of respect for neighbours as you tried resting your mouth against your arm to muffle your high pitched moans. His tongue retracted until you felt the tip of his tongue tease the edge of your entrance before dipping his tonulgue in for a moment. Your hips bolted you forward at the intrusion before settling back down on the bed. His tongue running up and down from your entrance to your clit in long strokes. Quickly settling his tongue back against your throbbing clit. You yelped as he applied more pressure.

"Fuck, I love this cunt."

Slurping noises ensued as he dove in deeper. You orgasm building again and again, holding on for dear life. Holding onto your sanity. His tongue swirling around the pulsing bud as you continued your previous rhythm rocking against his face. Your knuckles were turning white at the sheer grip you had on the ties; feeling yourself drift away.

"Fuck, please, yoo-"

He pressed his face even further into your heat as you cried out in pleasure. Tongue flicking mercilessly over your engorged clit. Reaching the summit again to fall all the way down into the abyss. He never let up from you as his tongue lapped at your juices spilling from your entrance. Nerves alight and pulsing throughout your body. A thin layer of sweat was evident against your face, collarbones; the whole of your body. Sweat beaded from his own forehead and he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as he watched you regain your breath. Stilted in the silence. Only your chest rising and falling as your lungs gasped for air.

He loosened his right arms hold around your leg and brought his fingers forward to your sensitive pussy. Humming to himself as he gathered the Juices on the tip of his fingers and spreading it all over your pussy as it glistened in the dim hotel light. Knowing how much you lost your collective shit over his hands he couldn't help but watch his hands tip toe up to your breast; squeezing the flesh roughly in his hand before slinking it over to massage your neck for a second. Only to grab it a moment later. Your breath caught quite literally as you could feel the bed move from where he was sitting up. He could feel the pressure against your soft skin and the way your breath constricted; only for a moment as he loosened his grip. His fingers still flush against the skin. His veined hand looked like it belonged around your neck. He thought to himself before sliding his thumb into your mouth again; which you accepted with enthusiasm.

'I found a saviour, I don't think he remembers'

"One more from you, kitten. Then I'll fuck you. Okay?" He hummed.

Your reply was noncommittal as you nodded vehemently; still sucking on his thumb. He looked down at you with a certain adoration. Laying there, naked for him. Tied up and blindfolded. If he'd have thought this would be the case after that first night, he would have laughed. But here you both were.

His fingers began to trace the outline of your entrance; whisper like touches that made you clench around nothing. He began experimentally pushing his long slender middle finger inside you a little; chuckling lowly as you let out a whine. Your pussy trying to suck him in further. Wanting to feel him. All of him.

"Sir. Please." You murmured, legs that were now free from his grasp allowing you to rotate your hips.

He wanted to tease. God. He wanted to tease you until the sun came up. But he was desperate and so were you. He removed his finger earning a cry from you. Until he slid in two fingers to your shock and set a brutal pace. Feeling those godly fingers of his curl into you. Moulding you perfectly to him. Tapping against that sweet spot inside. He used his other hand to press your hips to the bed; preventing movement as you felt a touch of sensitivity kicking in. But you put it to the back of your mind; focussing on the way his fingers were drilling into you at an inhuman pace now.

Your senses heightened due to his silk tie that blocked your view. Oh how you wished you could watch his fingers sliding in and out of you like you had done countless times before. Acquiring quite the affinity with the mans hands. Pale, veiny; strong in their ability to hold you but soft when he caressed your cheek, wiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth or the pad of his thumb sweeping away tears from overstimulation. God you loved them.

"Fuck. I'm so close." You cried out, to someone. Anyone who could hear you as he continued his ministrations.

"Yeah? The slut loves my fingers doesn't she?" Yoongi spat; his voice laced with venom.

"Loves my fingers fucking her, huh?"

All you could do was mewl as you could feel your body going into overdrive. Your head slamming against the pillow as you could feel yourself near the edge. Just needing one final push.

"But you love it best when my hand's around your throat. Isn't that right? Slut?"

You hadn't felt his hand move. Too lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Until you felt it grip your throat. Not hard. But just enough. Squeezing when he said slut. Sparks flew and your fingers and toes felt as if they were set to a light simmer. Your body going numb at the feeling and your pussy throbbing as you came. A high pitched moan of his name left your bitten lips as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Body moving in time with your spasming cunt as you began to feel the overstimulation kicking in, rearing its ugly head once more. The pain was excruciating as he continued but the pleasure washed over you again as your entrance continued to clench around his fingers. Silence as a moan caught in your throat. This had to be the biggest orgasm you had ever had. Nerves set alight with matches and turning into a forest fire that exploded like gasoline until it set to a simmer when Yoongi slowed his fingers down ever so slightly. Enamoured by your head thrown back and your mouth in the perfect shape of an O. He would've cum right there, just at the sight of you convulsing beneath him.

"Cause he's off to pay his crimes, and he's got no time for mine'

"Fuck, me." He breathed, shaky breaths too.

Quickly flipping you onto your front, your still tied arms now crossed over one another. Propping your legs up so you were on your knees. A sharp smack to your ass sent you reeling into another sobbing mess. Beginning to plead with him. For something; anything.

Soon enough you felt his hands returning to your hips and ass, caressing them carefully. Your ass flinching at the contact of his lips on your lower back, you could hear a slight slapping sound behind you, assuming he had started to touch himself again. You whimpered at the thought of not being able to watch his veiny hand slide up and down his equally veiny cock. Fuck.

His lips still against your skin as he whispered "I nearly came just like that, watching you cum all over my fingers baby."

There it was again. Baby. Nothing more nothing less. There was a pregnant pause before he sighed, beginning to speak again.

"You're so fucking hot" a groan sounded as the pace of his hand quickened against his length. The slapping sound intensified.

You whimpered, beginning to move your ass up and down, wiggling it at him to invite him in.

"Yoongi, just fuck me already." You whined.

A sharp slap sounded against your ass, reverberating through the room. You winced at the pain, taking in a quick breath before a hand returned to your ass kneading it in his palm.

"Slut is so impatient today. I'll fuck you, don't worry." His words were menacing.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

His hand continued to knead at your reddening cheek before pulling it aside with his thumb, showing your dripping, waiting entrance for him. He almost lost it. Almost. Deciding that you had both waited long enough he lined his throbbing condom clad cock up with your entrance and pushed in with great speed. Hissing at the feeling of your tight wet walls surrounding him.

"Oh god." You managed a strangled whimper into the mattress.

Breath caught in your throat as you could feel his dick beginning to move swiftly inside you. His hips slapping against your ass that was sure to bruise tomorrow, your wrists were aching, your body going numb to every other feeling apart from the feeling of him ploughing into you. Your vision was starry eyed and you hated it. But you loved it. Sobs began to rack through your body as he spanked you once again, sending waves of pain and pleasure through you.

His pace continued as all you could do was lie there with your hands tied, begging for anything he was willing to give you. But also feeling the familiar sting of too much. But it was never too much. You willed your body to continue on. To not give up the ghost yet. You prayed for your body to fight on. To take every thrust he battered into your throbbing, weeping pussy.

The coil you had almost forgotten existed now in the plains of numb, vacant ability to even string a sentence together, began to tighten again, expecting a fraying spent body, not one this eager for your umpteenth orgasm this evening. Your pussy clenched as he continued, hollow groans you imagine him with his head back as he thrusted into you, licking his perfect lips with that sinful tongue. God, he made you crazy.

"Yoongiiiiii, fuck I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please" your tone indescribable as you panted for breath that escaped you with every thrust as his skin continued to slap against yours.

Suddenly feeling him pull out which almost made you weep but being turned back over onto your back, the tie being ripped from off your head. You were greeted by a furiously sweating Yoongi. Sweat dripping from his dark chocolatey hair just above his eyes. His lips swollen pink from where he had probably been biting on them so much, not to mention when he had used the same lips to devour you not 20 minutes prior. His chest was heaving and lips parted as he gazed at you for a moment.

"I'm seeing that gorgeous face when you cum, no way I'm missing that." He stifled a laugh as he lined himself up with your entrance again after wrapping your legs around his torso.

'They run around beneath our feet, we roll around beneath these sheets'

Sliding in once more you rattled your wrists against the silk tie restraints as you cocked your head back in pleasure. You let out a high pitch moan, almost exasperated in tone, your back arching up into him before slumping back on the bed in defeat. Yoongi almost reading your mind whilst still thrusting inside of you began to untie the ties that bound your wrists. You thanked heaven for your saving grace. You could run your hands through his hair now, feel his sweaty skin beneath your fingertips. And soon after your hands were free he laced them in his own. This also being new to you. You knew the drill when having sex with him. He laid down the ground rules early on. No kissing. No cuddling. No hand holding. So what he did next really sent you through a loop.

"Fuck I'm close." He sighed before leaning down to kiss you.

His lips were salty, battered and bruised much like your own but you didn't care, you kissed back with all your might as he continued to thrust away inside you. Feeling his cock hit that sweet spot again you mewled, breaking the kiss with your head thrown back.

"Here kitten?" He asked, smirk evident in his voice.

You whimpered with a nod as he continued to thrust in the right place, hitting your spot so deliciously you couldn't help cry out when his pace turned rampant and he held your hips in his bone crushing hands, sure to bruise tomorrow. The punishing pace was set as his hips bucked into you and you tried to grab at anything you could, finding no sturdy comfort in the crisp white hotel sheets beneath you. Your breathing was erratic, you hadn't realised you'd been sweating until now, although not as much as the man above you. You watched in distracted awe at the sweat running down his broad chest, along his stomach and down to where his cock was pummelling into you.

You could feel it again, serious this time. Your orgasm creeping up on you faster than any bullet. Your legs tingled and your toes curled. Your knees felt like they would break and your arms felt detached from the rest of your body. In the last moments you saw him gazing down at you, exasperated, fucked out beyond belief. But smiling. You reached up at the nape of his neck and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips against his as you succumbed to the pleasure that wreaked havoc throughout your body. A heart wrenching shout came from your lips. In every moment, a glitch of your body as it spasmed with unruly disregard and poor timing. Your pussy clenched repeatedly on his cock while he continued to thrust inside of you.

"Oh fuuuck, I'm coming." He groaned into your neck as he used hard, purposeful thrusts as he came in the condom.

'He's coming down, coming down'

The sweat that accumulated on both your bodies cemented you together for moments after. All pretence and notions suspended as you both caught your breath back. Heaving. Breathing one another in. Soon Yoongi peeled himself off of you and went to remove the condom. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Stars still there. You weren't imagining it in the end. Scraping your hair from off your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow. Soon he returned, bouncing onto the bed next to you, looking up at you in adoration almost. A nervous smile present on his lips as if he didn't just drag you to the 7th layer of hell with him. Or was it heaven? You could never be sure.

You looked over at him with heavy lids, inquisitive look on your face as he swept hair from your shoulder. Looking down at you with that same smile. Before -

"You fancy going on a date, some time?"

© sunnysidejoon - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

NOW Mr Min is usually not my main man but i can't help it, just, shit okay Min Yoongi.

I realise I'm probably going to hell for this but we joon

Hope you guys enjoyed, working on the next installment as we speak 🤪 if you want to be added to a taglist let me know 🥴

Love Always

Mac 🧡💜

[starsstruck]

strange phenomena; part two.

what happens when we meet again? you and harry have barely seen each other in almost a year. two ex-lovers find themselves in the same snowy town by strange chance, both looking for something they can’t seem to figure out. forgotten letters, painful memories, and heart stopping reunions.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, a lot of crying, sexual content words: 15.8k

series masterlist

an: hello. thank you for being patient with me <3 i am excited (and slightly nervous) to share the second part of my little story with you <3 i hope everyone enjoys, happy reading and please do share and let me know what you think ! it truly means the world to me. happy reading <3

You couldn’t remember the walk away from Harry’s.

Stumbling through the snow, not caring as the cold air nipped at your ears and left your lips chapped. All you could think about was the look on Harry’s face when you’d told him that you were leaving, the way his shoulders dropped and his brow furrowed.

You could still feel the imprint of his mouth on yours, the way it fit so smoothly over your own and was always inviting you in for more. You could feel the weight of his hands over your waist, fingertips that gripped into your skin even through the thickness of your sweater.

Even the light tickling of his hair that had brushed over your forehead could still be felt.

Just living in the same space as him for barely an entire day, you felt full of him. His smell lingered on your clothes, the weight of his hold around you when you slept, and most glaringly the locket resting against your chest felt like it was burning your skin.

And the worst part of it all was that it made you miss him. It made you ache for him in a way that you hadn’t let yourself ache.

You hadn’t let yourself feel this much since the initial break up, and now you were fighting back tears as you stormed down the hill so quickly, you felt like you were falling instead of walking.

Tears, that you apparently were not doing that good a job at holding back because soon your vision was blurring and you realized that a trail of tears were in fact freely falling from your eyes. Wiping the back of your hand over your cheeks, you bowed your head down as you walked.

You heard your name softly murmured from behind the closed door.

Rolling your head on the pillow, you felt a small pool of tears fall from your eyes and onto the fabric.

You were crying without even realizing it now.

Hearing your name called again, a bit louder this time followed by the little rattle of knuckles over the wooden door.

Sighing quietly, you threw the heavy comforter off your body and it seemed to take all your strength, but you lifted yourself from the mattress and stood to your feet.

Wiping at your face with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, you hoped that your distress wasn’t physically apparent, although you were sure that there was no way of properly hiding it.

“Morning,” your friend, and temporary roommate, greeted you with a tentative smile. You tried your best to return her cheeriness, but doubted that you even managed to lift the corners of your mouth. “Coffee’s ready.”

“Perfect,” you’d attempted a lightness to your voice, but instead it sounded hoarse, like you’d been crying all night.

Following Molly out to her kitchen, you took a seat over one of the creaky chairs and silently watched her pour you a cup, letting you add what you wanted to it for your liking. She poured herself a cup as well, turning to face you with a quiet pause. “Did you want something to eat?”

You smiled at her from over the rim of your mug. “I’m okay.”

“Okay…” she murmured quietly, taking a seat next to you. A small silence filled the air once more – you could practically hear her thinking about what to ask you.

“How are you feeling?”

Her voice came out quietly, a calmness as she watched you stare at the steam rise from your mug. You didn’t know how to answer her without crying.

“I’m doing fine,” you managed to get out, voice a tad stronger now that your throat was no longer dry.

Molly sighed your name softly, knowing you well enough to know you were lying through your teeth. “Do you want to talk about it?”

It. The breakup. Your breakup. You were single again – you had lost your partner, your lover, your other half. It had been nearly thirty-six hours, and you felt as if you hadn’t spent a single minute of that time without crying.

Tears were pricking at your dry eyes. Letting out a shaky sigh, you tried your best to hold off the tears when you spoke. “I don’t know… I don’t know what to say.”

Your voice was wavering by the end of your sentence. Your eyes were sure to be bloodshot, and with the way Molly was looking at you, you didn’t try to hold it off any longer.

Her voice was so kind, so soft, like she was talking to a wounded animal, which perhaps she was. “What happened?”

“I – I broke up with him,” your voice rasped, looking over at your caring friend with watery eyes. Your mouth gapped open, like you were about to say something else but didn’t know what to say. You didn’t really know anything, it seemed.

“I didn’t know,” you could tell Molly was searching for the best things to say to you, but was coming up short as you didn’t give her much to work with. She moved her chair closer to yours, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I didn’t realize that things weren’t working out.”

“They were,” your voice shook, taking in a heavy breath as your tears started to fall when you spoke. “They were working.”

You fell into your friend’s arms, letting sobs shake through your body. She was quiet as you kept speaking, “There was this thing – a rough patch, I don’t know,” your voice sounded unlike your own. “We were talking, and then suddenly I was telling him we shouldn’t be together anymore.”

Molly’s hand squeezed your shoulder. “Is that what you want?”

You shook in her grasp, trying your best to even out your breathing as suddenly you were completely sobbing once again. “No – it was just – I thought we were maybe going to take some time apart, not like this.”

“But he just let me break up with him.”

Turning your head, you blinked rapidly while wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. Opening your mouth to speak once more, you needed to take a deep breath before being able to do so.

Your friend murmured your name quietly, smoothing her hand over your arm in soothing motions.

“I know I hurt him,” you continued quietly, unable to wipe the look on Harry’s face out of your mind. “And I can’t stop thinking that maybe he didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

The tears were back, quiet this time. Not breath-halting sobs but instead a silent stream down your cheeks. “And I don’t know what to do –”

You fell back into the embrace of your friend, quietly crying into the sleeve of her shirt as she hugged you. “I – I’m in love with him,” you muttered, voice sounding so unbelievably broken. “I’m in love with him and I don’t know how to stop.”

She held you close, soft circles of her hand over your shoulder while you cried. You’d never thought of yourself as someone who wouldn’t be able to live without someone else, as someone who needed and depended on anyone other than themselves.

But now you found yourself unable to say three words without completely breaking down in your sorrow.

You sat in that café, simply staring out the window.

Everything was spread out in front of you, just as it had been the other day.

Though you barely picked up your pen, and instead watched the thin flakes fall to cover the ground with a fresh layer of snow. It was calming, compared to the nonstop flurry of thoughts that hadn’t left your head.

You couldn’t even drink the coffee you had ordered, it was making you nauseous.

Everything was making you nauseous.

Everything was coming back, and you felt like you couldn’t even speak. As if when you’d open your mouth, you’d throw up all your pain. Or would break down in hideous sobs. Neither sounded great.

You kept replaying everything that had happened in your head – everything Harry had said to you and everything you had not said.

He’d told you everything you wanted to hear all those months ago, he was fighting for you, which was all you’d wanted in the first place.

But you didn’t know why it made you sad.

Everything was coming back up, everything you tried your best to forget.

Everything that you’d managed to distract yourself into forgetting. You were good at that, and just a month ago you felt okay, you felt like maybe everything was going to be okay. But all of that was forgotten now.

And the worst of it all was that you felt guilty. You felt bad for being the one to pull away first, for being the one to utter the words “maybe we shouldn’t be together”, to be the one to reject him twenty-four hours ago.

You were still at work, as far as Harry knew. He had no doubt it was the case, your overtime hours seeming to grow longer and longer with every passing day.

He felt like he was angrier about if than you were – hating to see the way you were treated and taken advantage at your office, and the way you seemed to be unable to say no to every single thing that was demanded of you.

He knew you were stubborn, he admired your tenacity although he could see it taking a toll on you.

And he felt like he was going crazy. He didn’t know what was going on, but he could feel you slipping away from right between his fingers.

There had been times like this – every relationship had them. Especially with the two of you, both with busy schedules and long periods apart.

Ever since coming back to reality, ever since you’d both returned from your extended vacation in the little French town, you were suddenly pulling away. Throwing yourself back into work, catching up on missed time.

And he knew he wasn’t blameless, the stress of trying to complete his album catching right back up to him. He knew that a partnership took work, the work of both people involved. He also knew he always threw way more of himself into relationships than his partners, but he needed you. He needed you to meet him halfway.

But a strange thing happened, a subconscious reaction to the overwhelming stress that seemed to wrap around the two of you. He was pulling away just as much – there were missed calls and unanswered texts on both ends.

He hadn’t meant to, and he knew, he hoped, that you hadn’t either. You two were serious, honest discussions of spending the rest of your lives together weren’t conversations either of you feared anymore.

Though that stress manifested into fear, and that fear took over both your systems.

Harry’s little rented apartment felt empty.

Now that you had occupied it, now that you’d touched it, eaten in it, slept in it – he could see you everywhere.

There was a dull pain in his chest, in his whole body actually but it seemed to be coming straight from his heart. Dragging his feet along the floor, he ignored the still hot coffee on the counter and fell back into bed.

Bed, where you had been lying not an hour ago. That still smelt faintly of you – where you had spent the night close against his body.

He needed to clean the sheets.

The feeling of your mouth was burned into his skin, your quiet breaths of his name going through his head like a melody he couldn’t forget.

He did what he always seemed to do when he was so incredibly upset over you. He found the flurry of words written about you, page after page of love letters and notes that he’d always thought that maybe one day, he’d send to you.

But he of course never did.

He checked the time for the thirtieth time that minute. He watched the numbers on his phone change. 9:53.

You said that you were going to be at his around ten. And he knew you well enough to know that you were going to be slightly late, just as you always were to things you were nervous about. Still, he checked the time again. 9:54.

The odd ten-something minutes that past were excruciating, but soon he heard the small rattle of a knock at his door. You’d obviously known how to get your way through the security, but the fact that you had to knock when not a over a week ago you were easily letting yourself into his place, into your place – your home – that fact made him unbelievably sad.

He jumped to the door.

Your eyes were wide when he opened the door, your lips slightly parted as if you were about to speak but you never did.

You had spent far too long deciding what to wear, knowing you needed to look good without trying too hard but also, that Harry knew you well enough to know when you were trying too hard.

The hoodie you had on suddenly felt like a bad idea, the same hoodie that was soft and warm and that he would frequently borrow.

“Hi,” he sounded breathless. He thought you looked as beautiful as always, his heart might as well have skipped a beat when he saw you.

You avoided his gaze, watching his feet step aside so that you could walk past him and into the home. You returned his greeting in a quiet “hello”, and you waited anxiously by the door while Harry shut it behind you.

This was it. This was the moment. This could possibly either be the last time you’d see him or the moment that you may reconcile.

“Everything’s where you left it…” Harry started, unsure of how to begin the conversation. He wanted to pull you into his arms, it felt unnatural to stand so far apart, to stand so frigidly with the other. He wanted to kiss you and tell you he loved you, that he didn’t want to be without you. But he didn’t know how when you’d told him that the two of you should break up barely a week ago.

“Okay,” you were nearly whispering. You were afraid you’d start to cry if you spoke too much – if you looked at him a moment too long.

He watched you turn your back to him, following the all too familiar path through the home and up to your room. To his room.

It was bound to be uncomfortable, to be messy. A breakup after over two years of being together, of living together. But he watched, he watched quietly as you rifled through your things and grabbed what was yours. He watched as you took moments too long staring at worn teeshirts – likely trying to remember who they originally belonged to.

The two of you remained fairly quiet through the entire process, quiet murmuring of asking where things had gone or of needs for help.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to scream at Harry and tell him to take you back, tell him that you never wanted this and that you couldn’t stand to be without him.

You wanted to scream at yourself for even getting yourself into this situation in the first place.

But instead, you stood on opposite sides of a room you once shared.

Harry couldn’t stand it. He hadn’t even realized that he was speaking aloud, but suddenly he was talking to you from across the room saying, “I’ve really missed you.”

You froze. You had nearly not heard him. Turning in your spot, you met his gaze with a shaky breath, and an attempt at a lightness to your tone. “Hasn’t been that long.”

“Feels long,” he murmured, mindlessly fiddling with a shirt lying on the bed.

He hated himself for the way he quieted, instead of shouting a declaration of love before he lost the opportunity.

“I know,” you were just as quiet. “It feels…” you trailed off, and Harry thought you were never going to finish the thought before your whispered to the ground. “Doesn’t feel right.”

You sighed, taking a seat on the bed as you hugged your knees to your chest. A small throbbing of a headache was starting to form, the stress of the day easily getting to you. Packing was already one of you least desired things to do, and packing up your things from your ex’s place? A place which you once shared? You were sure the headache would only grow.

You had been at his for a couple hours by this point, and this was now the most you’ve spoken.

You felt the mattress sink next to you, and when you peeked a glance you saw Harry sitting just a few inches away. His pose was tentative, as if he wanted to touch you, to wrap is arms around you but realized he couldn’t do that anymore.

The tears were inevitable. As soon as you even thought about not crying, it felt as if the prickling over your eyes grew and you needed to bow your head further, resting your forehead over your knees.

This time Harry didn’t hesitate.

Extending his arm out, he wrapped it around your shoulders and pulled himself closer to you until your sides were pressed together. You didn’t protest, rather welcomed his touch and leant into his body.

He was just as warm, smelt just the same – as if those things would change in a mere seven days.

“It doesn’t feel right without you,” Harry slowly bore his heart, voice shaking with a deep breath.

His words sent a new shudder down your spine. “I know,” you choked out a sob, refusing to look up at him, “I don’t know what to do –”

You were going through one of the many planed speeches you’d made, about telling him that this could be written up as a simple little break and nothing more, but it was coming out all wrong.

“I’m here,” was all he said, voice earnest.

You dared to raise your head, to look up at him. You felt the messy wet patches against your cheeks, the spill of tears making themselves known as your glossy eyes met his. He nearly shared your expression, as you noticed his bloodshot eyes and wet eyelashes.

Neither of you spoke.

After a moment, Harry raised his hand that wasn’t holding you close to lightly cup over your cheek, to wipe away the tears that graced your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

Again, you leant into his touch and in fact fell into his embrace.

It felt good to hold each other again.

You swore you didn’t do it on purpose, but when you spoke again you hadn’t realized you were leaning in closer to him until his breath brushed over the top of your lip.

“This past week, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” your voice was at a whisper, cracking lightly in your emotional state.

Harry’s words whispered across your skin. “I’m here. You always have me.”

You were closing the gap between your lips, mouth brushing his when you voiced a plain and simple: “Love you.”

Lips touched, a hard kiss that felt like it would bruise your mouths, built up in the sheer intensity of the moment. You breathed each other in, relaxing against the others touch while the tears got wiped away in your close embrace. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop either.”

He returned your affection, whispering that he “can’t imagine not loving you” and the two of you held onto the quiet hope that maybe things weren’t over.

But it was a quiet hope – one that was never really brought out from your hearts and into the air.

What you thought could be a kiss to start something new, a beginning, turned out to be a goodbye kiss.

You sat like that for a while, not speaking, holding onto each other.

After a while, you didn’t know how long but your feet were starting to numb from the way you were sitting, and you both stood and quietly brought your things out to your car.

Neither said a single word about the kiss, or the shared feelings of love.

You left with an awkward wave, wanting to hug him and hold him but when he took a step away from you at the door you found yourself doing the same.

You left thinking, hoping, that maybe this wasn’t the end. Hoping that he must know you well enough to know what your quiet confessions meant.

But he never reached out. And neither did you. You both avoided any social situation in which you might see the other, you both buried yourself in work and distracted yourselves with anything you could.

Harry didn’t want to be in his space alone, a space that once you shared with him. A space that you had just left for what he’d soon learn to be the last time for a long while.

He felt as if he was floating through the space, watching himself from a distant plane as he wandered back into his room.

There was still the indent in the duvet from where you had sat, still the small piles of clothes splayed out that you had left untouched. He felt as if he shouldn’t even sleep in this room tonight.

His eyes fell to the nightstand, where a little gold ring sat. It was yours; it was sitting out in plain sight – there was no way you had missed it.

You’d never admit it, at least not for the time being but you did it on purpose. The small things you left behind, you wanted Harry to have them. Whether he’d stare at them ever night, or throw them into a fire or shove them under his bed, you didn’t care. You needed pieces of you to remain with him.

He picked up the ring, lightly examining it before trying it on a few of his fingers. It fit perfectly over his ring finger – he didn’t dwell of the irony of that fact.

He didn’t even realize he had pulled out his notebook until his pens was messily scribbling over the paper. Tearing out a page, he started over, and over, as if he needed to refine the perfect letter for you.

Words of love, of anger, repeating over and over again.

“I wish I could tell you this. I miss you dearly.”

Months went by and the stack of half-written letters only grew.

He’d slip them inside of his notebooks, carrying them around with him. He’d put them with certain memories of you, days where he wrote about nothing but his love for you.

Those slips of worn paper even found themselves back in France with him, when he on a whim decided that he should return. Harry knew it was a desperate attempt to feel closer to you, and as luck, or fate, or whoever would have it, he found you there too.

Harry wondered if you’d left Annecy by now. You’d never said how long you were here for, and he couldn’t imagine you sticking along for long after the other day.

He himself considered packing everything up and leaving, a fresh start for his fresh start.

Even reconsidering it once more, he was checking the schedule for the trains that left the city when a noise broke his train of thought.

A quiet knock sounded from the door.

Harry thought he had maybe imagined it – maybe it was coming from outside, it was such a soft noise he wasn’t all that sure that there really anyone at the door.

But then he heard it again.

Louder this time, maybe even frantic.

He grew nervous, slow steps towards the door. It had to be someone else who lived in the building, because there were few people who knew where he was and even fewer who were in this very town with him.

His heart leapt in his throat when he opened the door.

You stood on the other side, wide eyes gazing up to meet his as the wooden door swung open. You had on the same thick black coat as you did the other day, same peach toned embroidered patterns running up the front and up to the collar.

He watched your mouth part open, no words coming out. One of your hands was hanging by your side, the other grabbing onto the straps of your tote back that seemed heavy over your shoulder. You had on thin brown gloves.

“What are you doing here?” Harry nearly choked out the words, gripping tightly on the frame of the door as he stared you down.

“I – I don’t know,” you responded, voice wavering slightly.

He sighed, watching as your eyes flicked down to the floor for a moment before meeting his once more when you heard his soft exhale. “I was heading to the café again – and I don’t know – I kept walking. Ended up here.”

You fell silent once more. He so desperately wanted to fill the quiet gap, but held his tongue. He didn’t need embarrass himself with any more desperate pleas.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” you suddenly said, voice louder this time as you tired to recall any of the script you had thought over on the walk up. You held his gaze, eyes steady on each other. “About everything that happened with us.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one.

“And I just…wanted to see you again.”

His heart leapt again, feeling like it was growing wings and trying to fly out of his chest. He parted the door open wider in his grasp, leaving a gap in the doorway. “Did you want to come in?”

You hesitated in your steps. You really did want to accept his invitation, but you also knew how easily you could get wrapped up in him if you were so much as standing in the same room.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” you started, watching his face fall slightly. You quickly spoke again. “But maybe we could get dinner?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like a date?”

“Yeah,” the corners of your lips perked slightly, softening your expression. “Like a date.”

He mirrored your smile, watching as you shifted your weight on your feet. You were making no effort to hide your nerves, something he appreciated. “Tonight?”

You nodded. “If that works for you.”

“It does, yeah,” he didn’t need to think about it.

“Okay,” you nodded once more, biting at your bottom lip. “Can I maybe get your number? I think I only have your old one.”

He nodded, of course you could have his number. He didn’t dare let his thoughts entertain how you knew the number you had was no longer his, the thought of you calling him only to be met with nothing was a little too heartbreaking to think about at the moment.

After he added himself to your phone once again and sent himself a text so he’d have yours again (he’d deleted it one night on an impulse, one night after a few too many drinks that he immediately regretted the next day).

“I’ll let you know the details for tonight,” you told him, after sliding your phone back into your pocket and readjusted the bag over your shoulder.

“I look forward to it,” he smiled at you, a newfound giddiness in his nerves. “I’ll see you tonight.”

You were off as quickly as you hard arrived, walking back out onto the street and down the newly plowed sidewalk to sit in the café once more and hopefully get some work done before you were to see Harry later that day.

All while Harry was restless all day, mind unable to turn off as he felt excited to see you again. He tried not to get overly optimistic, but it was hard not to.

You had texted him not much more than an hour after seeing him, telling him to meet you at the restaurant at seven o’clock.

The day had past for to slowly. He tried to busy himself, but nothing really seemed to work so all he could really do was wait until he was time for him to head out and meet you.

When the time finally came, he was practically sprinting down the street, happy to see the restaurant you had chosen was well within walking distance from his place. He got there early, but didn’t care. He knew that when you were nervous, you would show up just a bit late, so it was no surprised when you joined him at the table a little past seven.

He sat up straighter as you settled in the chair across from him, shrugging off the same thick black coat to hang off the back of your chair.

Immediately he noticed the locket that he’d gifted you, sitting against your skin directly between your collarbones. Your blouse looked silky, easily sitting around your shoulders with ruched sleeves that led to a form fitting front. The pale green seeming like it was glowing in the dim light of the restaurant.

“Hi,” your blush-swept cheeks rounded as you smiled up at him.

“Ordered us some wine,” he motioned to the bottle that was now sitting on the side of the table. “Hope that’s okay.”

“More than,” you smiled again, hand reaching over to grab your wine glass that had already been filled by the waiter a few minutes ago.

Small talk seemed insignificant at the moment, something that shouldn’t have to be endured by the two of you. But jumping right into an emotionally intense conversation didn’t sound like a good idea either.

“Bonne soirée mademoiselle,” the waiter interrupted the silence, greeting you before asking the both of you if you knew what you’d like to eat.

In slightly broken French you told him you both needed a minute before ordering. Both able to distract yourself as you glanced over what to order, only words shared about what looked good on the menu. But after sending off the waiter with your orders, the same silence settled once more.

“So,” Harry broke the silence, “if this is a date, are we not friends anymore?”

You smirked, a light expression that you easily hid behind your wine glass. “I don’t know,” you hummed, after swallowing the dark red liquid. “What do you think?”

“Not friends,” he affirmed. “Maybe something a bit more.”

It was incredible how easily you’d settled into this little teasing back and forth, how effortlessly seductive you could be.

You bit your lip once more, holding in whatever you were about to say. He watched you take another sip of wine, lips folding together when you swallowed the alcohol, a stray drop of red liquid staining your lips. Releasing your lips, your tongue made a quick swipe to collect any wine before you looked back up at your ex, and he had to tear his eyes away from your mouth.

Harry let out a quiet exhale. “You can’t keep me guessing,” he said, voice softer this time. “You have to give me something.”

You paused in your movement then, placing the glass back down on the table. You were glad for the wine as it helped settle the nerves that were building back up. “I was thinking a lot, about the other day. About everything really.”

He nodded, silently urging you to continue.

“Uhm well,” you blinked a few times, breaking his gaze, “– I never really let myself think about everything, you know?”

You suddenly seemed to forget everything you were planning on telling him.

“Do you remember that day – the last time we saw each other? When I picked up my things.”

Harry nodded again, eyebrows furrowing a bit as he tried to see what you were going to say.

You nearly wanted to laugh, not out of humour, at the memory of that day. You took a deep breath, forcing the confession from your mouth. “I wanted us to get back together that day,” you said, watching Harry’s expression closely. “To tell you it was all a mistake.”

Harry’s eyes widened, watching you very closely but he still didn’t utter a single word.

“And I hoped – maybe we would.” Your head was spinning at the memory, of the painful day that only led to more heartbreak.

“I thought that maybe –” Harry started, recalling that day just as well. “But I never saw you again.”

A quietness surrounded your table, even in the louder chatter of the space around you. Harry spoke again, voice wistful as his eyes held yours. “I should have kissed you longer.”

You needed to break his gaze to stare at the table, not wanting to cry. “I was hurt, I didn’t know how to handle it. After that day, I just needed to push it all away.”

“And I did – I managed for months.”

Harry felt his heart sink, fearing this conversation was going somewhere he hadn’t wanted to think about.

As timing had it, the food arrived at that moment and Harry suddenly thought he was going to be sick, the thought of eating anything the last thing on his mind at the moment.

You both offered tight lipped smiles at the waiter, quiet merci’s, and you didn’t say anything else until he was out of ear shot.

“I managed,” you repeated, voice pulling Harry out of a slightly spiraling train of thought. “But then seeing you here after all this time, and you telling me…”

You felt as if tears could break out at any second. “You telling me you want us to try again – all that pain came right back. Everything I had ignored.”

He murmured your name quietly, before you kept speaking. “But what you said, wanting to give us another shot…”

You looked back at him, wide eyes meeting his straight on. “I never wanted…”

Struggling to find your words once more, you watched as Harry took a big sip of his water.

“I didn’t think we’d actually end up like this,” you murmured quietly, watching Harry pause.

He placed his glass back down, pondering your words for a moment before looking up at you again. “What do you mean?”

“Just that,” you pushed some food around on your plate, the bravery you felt a few moments ago vanishing. “That we would actually split up. Thought it was just a rough patch or something…”

Maybe this wasn’t the conversation to be had in a public place. You felt like you could cry.

Harry’s voice was quiet when he spoke, he didn’t want to sound accusatory. “You were the one to suggest the split.”

As hard as he tried not to sound to pointed, you still flinched slightly at his words. You looked down this time, not looking back at as you trailed your finger over the condensation on your glass of water.

“It was –” you cut yourself off. It was mutual, you were going to say. It wasn’t, though. It never was. The only thing that was mutual was that neither of you really wanted to breakup with to begin with.

“I know,” you said instead after a moment. “I thought – I never thought we’d end up like this though. I thought –” you had to cut yourself off again.

This really wasn’t the conversation to be having in a restaurant where everyone else was happily eating and drinking around you. You looked up at him, willing your voice not to shake.

“I thought you’d fight for me.”

He knew you didn’t intend for your words to hit him with a sharp stab. He knew it very well, but he still felt the jab of pain through his chest.

“I didn’t know…” he breathed lightly, running his hand over his forehead, bringing it over his face before scratching at his jaw. He didn’t know you had felt that way. Maybe communication really had been your downfall. “Fighting for you now, aren’t I?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you let your shoulders relax. “Yeah, you are.”

Harry dared to ask. “Is this, I mean what we’re doing now, do you want us to try again?”

Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth, a mindless habit as you thought over his words. You hadn’t thought of it so formally, more like you were just spending time with your ex.

When you were quiet, and he momentarily started to panic once more as he feared he had misread the situation.

“I do,” you said softly, gazing up at him. He couldn’t help the leap of his heart. “I want to give us a shot.”

You both stared at each other for a moment, quiet unspoken words shared. His next words were low, as he watched every flicker of your eyes. “How about we treat this like a date then.”

When your lips curved upwards, and you glanced away playfully, he let out a relieved breath once again. “Yeah, how about we do.”

You needed to take a few quiet breaths through your nose, not a few minutes ago on the verge of tears as you thought about the prospects of starting anew with Harry. You’d talk more after.

“What do you say to desert?”

You leant forward over the newly cleared table with a forearm on the wood, only a spot of wine left in your glass that you swirled in one hand.

The remainder of the evening after your little talk had been nothing but lovely.

It was like it was back to being you, back to the dynamic you’d always had together.

Discussing everything and anything that happened in your time apart, anecdotes as minor as catching Harry up on the gossip from your now old workplace.

The wine had very likely contributed to the increasingly flirty glances, and touches. It felt good to touch each other again.

Hand falling over his on the table, his knee bumping yours under the table. It was all innocent, all completely crumbling whatever idea you’d might’ve had over the idea of ever being over Harry.

You were both completely enthralled with each other.

Harry couldn’t for a second take his eyes off of you, even following your every move until you disappeared around the corner when you headed to the toilet.

You seemed to glow the more the evening went on, a happy sheen taking over your eyes and it only warmed his heart further.

Not only that, but every lingering stare and teasing touch was only adding to the growing desire he had for you. He wanted to hold you, to kiss you, to feel your body pressed against his.

Memories of the two of you didn’t help, memories that he apparently would never forget, especially as your teeth bit down into your bottom lip and your leg extended under the table to firmly press against his own.

“And what do you suggest as desert?”

“Anything you want,” he spoke lowly, eyes flirting with yours. “Back at mine?”

You bit your bottom lip down, the offer not surprising you but still sent a familiar tingle down your spine. “Desert to go, then?”

“If your up for it.”

He turned in his chair, signaling for the check which he swiftly paid without giving you a single moment to object. You tried your hardest to bite down your smile, lips sucked in against your teeth as you watched the man in front of you push his arms through the sleeves of his coat.

You did the same, holding his eyes in a silent agreement to his offer. You were promptly walking out into the cool air outside. Harry’s hand grabbed yours,

Fingers interlocked, he kept you close to him as the both of you walked. You were glad you hadn’t put your gloves back on, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

Walking side by side along the familiar sidewalks, through the old town while crowds were dwindling down in the later hours of the evening. Harry’s pace slowed at one point, hand squeezing yours as you walked past the arrays of ice cream shops that would have lines through the street if it were summer.

“You want one?” Harry swung your locked hands forward, pointing to one of the still open parlors.

You turned to look at him, his cheeks reddened by the cold. “You were serious about the desert?”

He bumped his hip to yours, arm moving to instead wrap around your shoulders with your hand still holding him, his forearm against your chest to hold you close. His lips pressed over the side of your head, feeling the heat of his breath over your skin. “’Course – what did you think I meant?”

You chose not to answer his teasing words, instead just squeezing his hand in your grasp. “It’s too cold for ice cream.”

His lips moved from the back of your head, mouth lingering by your ear. “I have some of those chocolates you love so much – since you seem so eager to get back to mine.”

“You’re impossible,” you laughed, sinking back into his side as you continued your walk through the town and up the hill.

It wasn’t long until you were back in the warmth of his rented apartment, shaking the cold from your fingertips and snow from your jackets.

Harry had been true to his word, pulling out a little white box of chocolates with the familiar stamp over it. They were just as delicious as you’d remembered, indulging in the treat sitting next to Harry, each with a fresh glass of wine.

You borrowed his sweater that was hanging off the chair, and Harry couldn’t have imagined a more natural sight.

Sitting in his warm clothes, sharing sweet treats and dark red glasses of wine. Laughing together, talking, sitting pressed against each other with warmed skin and blissed smiles.

The intention to stay the night with him was an unspoken one, so when the night seemed to slow and you excused yourself to the washroom, Harry felt nearly nervous.

After a few moments, you found Harry with his back turned to you in the kitchen. You paused in your steps, watching him for a moment. He was tinkering around with something, placing mugs back in the cupboards and moving dishes around. He seemed to be only distracting himself, as if waiting for you while you were in the washroom.

He heard you coming up from behind him, but he still jumped slightly when your hand was placed over his back with a light touch. He turned to look at you, neither of you speaking for a moment as your hand slid up over his shoulder.

You looked soft in the warm lighting. Your makeup had been washed off, still in his sweater that hung around your hips. You looked just as beautiful, just as inviting as you lightly bit your lips together, watching him quietly. He wanted to hold you, to kiss you.

Harry cleared his throat. “Ready to go to bed?”

His voice came out low, scratchy, like it hadn’t been used in a while.

You didn’t say anything, holding back a smile. Your hip bumped his, sliding yourself closer to him as your hand joined the other around his shoulders.

He easily brought you in closer to him, hands finding their rightful place around the small of your back and his gaze teased over yours, a slow and obvious glance as you instinctively wet your lips. There hadn’t been a single kiss shared since the other morning, and you both deserved one, didn’t you?

A small soundless laugh left your parting mouth, you suppose it was a nervous reaction – nerves that were nearly unfamiliar to you even if this situation was anything but.

His lips found your own, after a nudge of his nose over yours and a tilt of your jaw to meet him halfway.

Although it was just the other day you had felt his mouth against yours, this was all the more different. This wasn’t an impulse decision based on confused feelings and desire, this was rather clear feelings and still a good dose of desire.

Lips soft over yours at first, he placed only a light lingering kiss over your mouth before silently pulling away. Your eyes parted open, watching him through your eyelashes as he held your silent gaze, leaning back in to press a light kiss over the corner of your mouth. He repeated the same move, leaning back and then forward once more to kiss over the other side, just at the crest of your lips.

It was with soft, tantalizing moves – of quiet brushes of lips around your face before his mouth met yours.

One of his hands raised from your hip, cupping the side of your face to hold you closer. You fully leant into his every touch, melting into his warm skin as his mouth enveloped yours. It was with slow touches at first, of breathing each other in before your tongue pushed against his and you opened up further to the other.

He tasted like the chocolate you had shared, like sweet red wine and like Harry. Your Harry. The one who you got the pleasure of calling your partner for nearly two years, the one who’d made you feel loved like never before. He tasted like home.

You were perfectly slotted between his body and the counter, your behind pushing up against the countertop as Harry pushed himself closer to you.

With your chests pressed closely, you were all wandering hands and breathy sighs as you indulged in a kiss filled with nothing but desire.

Harry’s hands skimmed over your sides, brushing over the soft fabric of the borrowed sweater. “You’re gorgeous,”

His lips found their way over your chin, silently urging you to tilt your jaw up so that he could press soft sucks over your neck. “Smell so fucking good.”

Murmuring a quiet, “shit,” over your skin, you could feel his lips turn up to a smile. “You’re everything to me, y’know that?”

Your smoothed a hand from his cheek up to his hair, light scratches over his scalp in a silent urge to feel his mouth on yours again. His words were making your head spin, a rapid beating of your heart paired with the slow burn of butterflies in your stomach.

Capturing his mouth with your own, you breathed him in with soft touches of lips that were quickly growing faster, heavier. Messy clashes of teeth, of muffled sighs and quiet calls of each others names.

His hips were pushing against yours – and although at this point you truly knew all his moves, you still had a small hitch of your breath at the feeling of his centre lightly rutting over yours. You sighed his name into his mouth, as he swallowed your quiet breaths as if to keep them at the back of his mind forever.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he breathed, lips smeared over your jaw. “Take it as slow as you want.”

You were smiling at the ceiling, hands gripping into the smooth fabric of his shirt, excitement growing at his words. You knew very well what you wanted.

“And what do you want?” You countered, feeling his lips smile on your skin.

He pulled away from you just enough so that your gazes could meet, staring you down with gleaming eyes and swollen lips. “You – it’s always you.”

The words were kissed over your mouth. “God, what’re you doing to me,” he breathed a quiet laugh. “Driving me crazy, angel.”

It was your turn to smile into the kiss, squeezing his shoulder in quiet response. “I want this. I want you.”

Harry didn’t answer, and instead just captured your mouth in another breathless kiss. It didn’t take long before he was pulling you out of the kitchen, flicking off the overhead light as you both followed the glow that came from the bedroom.

His hand clasped with yours, a quiet excitement around the both of you. As you followed closely behind him you couldn’t help the small turn in your lips, the rapid beating of your heart along with the growing desire for the man leading you to his bed.

You were both quiet, the grip of your hands breaking as Harry turned off one of the lights, only the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminating the room. You tugged off the thick yellow sweater, placing it on the dresser across from the bed, and you were back in only your silky blouse.

When you turned around, you saw Harry sitting on the mattress, his legs off the side of the bed with his feet planted on the floor. His eyes met yours, a soft smile gracing his features as you stood an arms length away.

“Come here,” his voice was low, the simple phrase sending shivers down your spine.

You placed a palm in his extended hand, making the few steps needed to get to standing in front of him. His other hand raised, cupping your cheek while his legs spread for you to stand between them.

Wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, you both held each other for a moment as you took the other in. You were the first to break the silent staring contest, leaning down until your forehead pressed against his and it only took a few seconds before your lips were together.

The feeling of his thumb brushing under your bottom lip was a soothing one, as he pressed one, two three sweet pecks against your mouth before pulling you in closer.

You nearly stumbled on your feet, still standing as you leant down to meet the mouth of your lover. Harry raised your interlocked fingers, placing your hand around the back of his neck to meet your other, before he placed his own hand firmly over the soft fabric covering the curve of your hip.

A soft exhale came from your nose as his lips parted with yours, licking into your mouth as the kissed deepened. Your breath mixed, the grip of your fingers tightening around him as your kiss grew a little more purposeful. His hand that rested over your cheek brushed lower, gripping your chin between his thumb and index to tilt your face even closer to his.

You were so pliable under his touch, following every motion that he lead you to. It was like getting to know each other all over again, the quiet excitement of feeling the others body, paired with the intimate familiarity of the man in front of you.

Your lips broke apart so that Harry could sponge his mouth down your jaw, breathing hotly against you with a trail of wet kisses on the sensitive skin. His hand squeezed your hip, muttering over your neck. “C’mere-“

The words were a deep rumble from his chest, moving back and slightly breaking his touch with you as he slid back further on the mattress. You easily followed him, knees dipping into the duvet as you found your place over his lap.

“Sorry – !” Your voice rose above a whisper when your chin bumped his nose as you lowered over him to press a kiss over his cheek, just as he was seeking your mouth. You felt his chest shake with a laugh, hands smoothing on either of your hips to pull you onto his lap.

“Stay –” his voice was muffled with his mouth sliding over your chin, “– right here.”

His hands held you tightly, thumbs pushing up under your shirt to rub over the bare skin that protruded over the tight waistband of your pants.  

A kiss was pressed on the corner of your lip, Harry moving back to meet your gaze for a flicker of a moment, before leaning in to press a linger kiss to your cupid’s bow. You both easily found your rhythm once more, mouths finding each other with a newfound need for the other.

Your stomach was warmed as his hands splayed over your skin, feeling the small tugs on the light fabric of your shirt when Harry pinched the material in his fingers. Your lips left his in a subtle pant, feeling his light stubble over your cheek when you titled your head to plant your mouth over his jaw.

Your name left his mouth paired with a low moan, all while you puckered your lips over his skin, sucking softly and left a trail of wet marks down the column of his neck. Your fingers were woven through his hair, light pulls over the strands as he let out shaky breaths above you.

His hands were venturing higher under your blouse, fingertips playing with the lace detail of your bra. You melted under his touch; his hands were warm and you couldn’t help but whimper lightly over his neck when he palmed over your breast.

Harry let his head hang low, tips of his hair tickling your shoulder as he mumbled quietly. “You look beautiful tonight,” he breathed you in. “Have I told you that?”

You only hummed over his skin, thighs squeezing his a little tighter when he tugged at your bra. “Let’s get this off you,” he murmured.

Pulling back from him, you met his gaze with heavy eyes and parted lips. His own lips were swollen, kissed darker and looked oh so inviting for more. You hoped you looked just as enticing. You glanced down at the miniscule gap between the both of you, as his hands raised under your blouse to pull it over your head.

Tossing it somewhere on the floor, his touch was back on your bare skin within seconds as he tugged your bra straps down your shoulders, and attached his lips on your collarbone. His mouth was soft, lips wet from swiping his tongue over them before planting them to your skin once more. He was holding you so tightly, hands smoothing flatly over your bare middle in soft circles.

Placing your hands over his chest, you blindly sought out the buttons that lined his blue shirt with fast attempts to pull them open. The skin of his chest was warm, the thin buttons slipping under your slightly shaking fingers.

Eventually successful with your task, you greedily pushed the fabric off of his skin as far as you could as he refused to take his hands off of you to help fully remove the item of clothing. His hands were spreading lower over your thighs, sliding over the soft fabric of your trousers until they held your bum with a firm grip. Kneading his fingers into the swell of skin, you keened into his touch and leant your body closer to his with a soft push of your hips.

You found yourself clenching around nothing, no doubt already making a small mess in your underwear as you felt his hardening cock pushing against your thigh. A moan made its way through his mouth, calling your name with a certain breathlessness.

Your bra straps were falling down your shoulders, sitting nearly uncomfortably as your breasts spilled out but you didn’t care, not with Harry’s mouth searching for more and more of your skin until it was circling around one of your nipples. One of his hands had found its way back over your breast, feeling the soft weight in his palm as both his mouth and hand gave your chest attention. With a rush of warmth through your stomach, you tilted your head into the crook of his neck with a sigh over his shoulder.

“This good?” He muttered over your skin, a quiet groan following his words as you arched your back into his touch.

It was the perfect mix of the quiet familiarity along with the excitement of a first time.

You answered him with a breathy “yes”, telling him that it was “so good” and that he definitely should not stop.

You could feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin, pulling away with a small nip of his teeth. The skin where he had left a wet impression of his mouth was cool when he pulled away. He raised his head with sly smile gracing his features as both your breaths were heavy and chests rose and fell in quick puffs.

You felt Harry’s other hand glide over your hips, a small dig of his fingers into your covered skin. A quiet yelp escaped your lips that same hand graced your behind with a small smack, quick motion before he was kneading his fingertips back over your bum. You fell closer against him, holding him tightly as he muttered one more “come here,” and fell back over the mattress until his head hit the pillows.

Your chest followed his as you leant down with him, your weight over him which was something he very much welcomed.

Planting your elbows into the mattress, you supported yourself up as your mouth found his once more. Kissing slowly, enjoying each other for a moment while his hands slid up your bare back and fumbled with the clasp of your bra until it was set loose and you could easily throw it to the floor.

His palms circled from your back to your front, gripping the weight of your breasts in his palms as he felt them rest over his own chest. Tugging at your hardened nipples, you whined into his mouth as rutted your hips over his, the hardness of his cock felt through his pants.

Lifting your mouth from his, he felt his neck crane as he searched to keep your mouths connected for a moment longer. You pressed a light kiss over his cupids bow, fingertips brushing over his cheeks as you watched his eyelids open with soft flutter.

His pupils were blown, quiet smile gracing his lips as his hands petted over your bare back. You returned his smile, tracing the line of his cheek down to his jaw. You mouth following the path that your fingers had drawn, small open-mouthed kisses over the sharpness of his jaw and down to his neck.

Your hands moved down to quickly push at the fabric of his shirt, doing your best to slide it off his shoulders as you urged him to move his arms up with quiet pants over his neck. You felt your heartbeat pounding in your chest.

“Hey,” Harry spoke quietly, one hand grabbing hold of your wrist. He raised your hand, placing a light kiss on the inside of your wrist. “We’re in no rush-“

You smiled down at the man underneath of you, feeling three more kisses pressed over the skin of your wrist before Harry was moving his arms from around you to tug the shirt off of his frame. Leveraging on the mattress, he pushed himself up and in a quick move as your own fingers gripped tightly into his shoulders.

“Easy,” he groaned into your skin moving to ease you over so that your back hit the mattress and he was laid half over you, face hovering by yours. “Just like that.”

With a moment of shuffling limbs, he slotted himself between your parted legs as he held himself with an arm on either side of you. All in a haze, he shot you a lopsided grin before he leant back down, open mouth against yours with a lick over your lips.

A slow, languid kiss as you scraped your nails over his shoulder blades, hugging him close to you as your mouths moved together. Touch growing sloppier, something neither of you minded that much as his wet lips trailed down your chin and down your jaw.

You could feel one of his hands smoothing down your side, holding your frame tightly as if he feared you would disappear at any moment. Although he was the on to tell you to slow down, to relax, you could feel the slight shake in his hands and the breathless pants that never ceased from his lips.

His open mouth pressed hot kisses down your sternum, making his way over with a trail of wet spots left behind before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. A choked whimper got caught in his throat, the hum vibrating around you as you arched your back into his touch.

He licked over the sensitive nub, gaging your every reaction as a bout of pride wrapped around him when you sighed his name into the air and trailed your fingers over the nape of his neck to grab a firm hold in his hair.

“You like that?” He mumbled over your skin, one hand kneading the soft skin of your breast that he was so enamoured by.

“You know I do,” your voice was a whine, cracking mid sentence.

“I know –” you could hear his smirk, “just making sure.”

One of his hands was smoothing down your side, thumbing at the waistband of your trousers while his thighs pushed tightly against your centre. You couldn’t help the slow moves of your back, arching it up into his touch.

Desperate under his slow touches, you ran your hands down his bare back with your nails gliding over his skin. You could feel his groan over your breast, as he felt your hands move around his hips. Soft fingers brushing over his lower stomach in a way that had his muscles clenching.

“Let me touch you,” you whimpered over his hair. Harry slowly rose his head, glistening lips moving to a smile when you quietly repeated, “I want to make you feel good.”

He lifted his torso up a bit, slowly moving off of your body. He was easily giving in to what you wanted, hoisting himself up higher over you until he was sat on his knees. You easily followed, crossing your legs as you sat across from your lover.  

Never going that long without touching you, one of his hands lightly cupped your cheek to lean forward and press a lustful kiss to your mouth. “Please,” his voice was raw, “please, touch me.”

Your hands quickly found the button of his pants when he pulled back, while he watched and leant forward on his knees. You head hung low and you made quick work to pop the button and tug the zipper down, fingers brushing over the skin above the waistband as you pulled on the fabric.

“Go on,” he spoke lowly, helping you as he moved over the bed so that you could bring the fabric over his hips. Your fingers hooked under the band of his briefs as well, sliding them down along with his trousers. “Gonna get me out?”

You didn’t offer him an answer, instead gave up on fully removing his pants and instead only pulled them to the middle of his thighs. You placed a hand over his bare leg, eyes falling down to his cock, thick and hotly aching to feel your touch.

A low inhale could be heard from Harry’s parted lips, as you trailed your fingertips over the familiar outline of the tattoo on his thigh. You brought your hand up over the crest of his leg, and brushed a light touch over the underside of his cock. A shakier inhale was heard, as Harry silently watched you lazily move your fingertips over him.

You bowed your head lower, tucking your legs under your bum as you easily recalled every little move that made Harry shudder above you.

He had one hand planted on the mattress behind him, leaning back slightly in a way that exposed more of his skin to you. You easily took the invitation, leaning forward to place a flurry of kisses over his lower stomach following the little trail of hair. Soft suction of your mouth over the skin leading to his pelvis, you felt one of Harry’s hands raise to lay lightly over the back of your head.

His fingers lightly scratched over your scalp, a light and comforting action as a murmur of your name was heard from above. Your mouth was slowly making its way to where he was begging. The muscles in his stomach jumped when you licked a slow strip over the underside of his cock, lips lingering over him for a beat before circling around his tip with a light suck. Keeping your grip at his base, you dragged your tongue over his tip as you let the saliva from your mouth fall over him.

“Good – that’s good –” Harry moaned from above you, hand trailing down to your jaw. He watched as you took him into your mouth, not as much as he knew you could and just enough to get him wet – wet and wanting more as you tightened your lips around him. Sliding your hand over the wetness you had created, moving over his balls with light touches, so light he couldn’t help but groan with a buck of his hips.

You felt Harry’s thumb brush lovingly over your cheek as he seemed lost of what to say.

Your glossy eyes met his glazed ones, feeling the utter desire in his look while he watched you. Briefly pulling off of him, you murmured a quiet, “feels good?”

Harry shuddered above you, needing to ground himself as you were working him up far too quickly. You were back on him within seconds, as he choked out a broken “feels like heaven.”

Tightening your lips around him, you dipped your head lower with a slow exhale through your nose, dragging your tongue over more of him.

“Fuck,” he wheezed, “jus’ like that, just like that,” he was rambling, unable to form a coherent thought, as quiet whines broke through his words, “good girl.”

You moaned around him, soft vibrations only adding to the pleasure that was raging hot inside of him. He nearly lost it when you bowed your head, eyes looking up through your lashes to meet his heavy gaze.

If you didn’t stop soon he was going to meet his release down your throat.

Sliding his fingers under your jaw, he muttered quietly as your movements eased over him. “Y’gonna make me cum,” he spoke breathlessly.

“Lie down, yeah? Let me feel you.”’

His fingers under your jaw were gently easing you off of his cock. Your mouth left him with a heavy breath, lips still parted as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Straightening out your spine until you were more at level with him, watery eyes peering into his. Harry easily regained his grip over your cheek, kissing you slowly, lazily, while pushing you to lie down on your back once again.

Once your head hit a pillow and he was hovering over you, Harry kicked off his pants the rest of the way before smoothing his hands over the skin of your tummy. He was pulling off your belt and pulling your trousers fall down yours legs within seconds, leaving you in only a thin little pair of underwear.

He brushed a hand over your inner thigh, as you watched his every move with hungry eyes. “Can I feel you,” he kissed your cheek. “D’you want that?”

Your grip over his shoulder tightened. “Yes,” you moaned into the air, jolting lightly when his thumb brushed over your covered core. “I’m –”

You couldn’t help the way you squeezed your legs together, the soft pulsing of your core driving you crazy. He placed a light kiss over your lips, pulling back with a slow smile.

“You’re what, angel?”

You bit your lip down hard at the use of the pet name, holding back a moan. “I want you – I’m wet. I … Harry!”

You couldn’t help but cry out when his hand pushed between your thighs, slipping under the elastic of your underwear so he could brush over your folds. “You’re wet,” he repeated it like it was a prayer, two fingers sliding over you. “So wet.”

“You’ve got to open your pretty legs for me,” he watched your eyes screw shut. “Just like that – good,” he praised as your legs opened for him.

Hooking a finger under the thin band that sat around your hip, he pulled the flimsy fabric down to the middle of your thighs as his other hand held your legs down, keeping them parted for him. You turned your head on the pillow, eyes catching Harry’s as his face hovered next to yours and he watched you with lust filled eyes.

You wrapped the arm closest to him around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss while his fingers moved up to your clit. You were getting him sticky with your wetness, as he drew slow patterns over the sensitive bit of nerves. You were moaning into his mouth, teeth hitting his chin as you panted over each other.

“How’re you feeling?” He kissed the words over your skin, nose brushing your cheek as he pressed his chest over your side.

“Good,” whimpering over his skin, you ached to feel just something more. “You’re always good – always know what I want.”

You could feel his lips curve to a smile over your cheek, fingers venturing lower before he had two pushing inside of you. You gasped a breath, the slight stretch something you welcomed – something you had missed.

You were just as warm and wet as he remembered – as he tried not to think about late at night when he was missing you and was lonelier than usual. Your hips bucked into his hand, biting your lips down when he pushed his fingers against that perfect spongey spot inside of you.

The hold of your teeth over your lips didn’t last long, lips parting when Harry muttered a low “let me hear you,” and you were moaning his name. With a slow and steady rhythm inside of you, he moved his thumb up over your clit again.

His hand was getting covered in your arousal, the two fingers pumping with intent inside of you. His lips were pressing a flurry of kisses along your skin, from capturing your lips to sucking and biting into the crook of your neck. Other hand was smoothing over your skin, leaving a hot path in its wake, so hot like you could combust at any second.

Wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, keeping his lips closed to your skin as you blindly pulled at his messy strands of hair. Clenching around him, he sucked into your skin harsher at the way you felt, at the way your fingers scratched over his skin.

Harry watched your face twist in pleasure – your eyes shut tight with your lips either harshly bit between your teeth or parting to let out the most beautiful moans.

You were both thrown right back into it, right back into the familiar touches and sounds and moves. You’d both thought about it countless times, but reliving it and making it a reality once more like this was indescribable.

Small incomprehensible words were heard from your mouth, mutterings of how much you missed him and how incredible he was making you feel. He knew every move that made your moan, ever little word to mutter into your ear – always paired with a heart fluttering pet name.

He was working you up so well, every move his ins fingers over you and inside of you making you breath a little heavier, made that warm coil in the pit of your stomach grow just that much hotter.

Your hand not around his back gripped his bicep, squeezing the skin tightly as you tried to think clearly. “Wait,” your voice was hoarse, spent. “Not yet.”

He craned his neck, raising his head from the crook of your neck, and placed a light kiss over your lips. Opening your fluttering eyelids, you saw him watching you with heavy, dark eyes as if he wanted to make sure he didn’t miss a single thing. Slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, he slid them over your folds, skin slick and wet under his touch as he drew languid circles over your clit.

“Want to feel me?” He whispered, breath felt over your cheek. He trailed his hand away from between your legs, light brushes of his wet fingers over your thighs.

You simply nodded, unable to properly think and he left another smattering of kisses over your chin and over your lips. Catching his mouth with yours, your tongue slowly licked over his bottom lip as he pulled away with a groan, hoisting himself higher over you to sit back on his knees next to you.

It was all familiar, but all felt brand new at the same time. The way his hands grabbed your hips, the low raspy tone in his words when he whispered, “how d’you want me?”

Legs parting wider from either side of him, hooking your ankles around his hips as you attempted to tug him towards him. Peering up at Harry from where you laid, you took a heavy breath before asking him, “like this?”

He paused, only for a brief split-second before swallowing a dry breath and nodded his head. “However you want,” he muttered, hands back on you within seconds. Spreading his palm over your hips, he leant down over you a pressed a kiss to your sternum, “whatever you want.”

He leant down with his knees dipping into the soft mattress, while his chest hovered over yours and his hands rubbed over your sides. He raised his head, lips nearing yours with a soft mutter. “Condom?”

You hadn’t considered the need to protection until then. Thinking it over for split-second, you shook your head as you met his eyes. “No I – I haven’t,” you paused mid breath. Haven’t been with anyone since you.

He seemed to understand your silent words. “Me neither,” he murmured lightly, pressing himself closer to you. You could feel his cock right there at the crest of your thigh, an arch in your back deepening as you grew desperate to feel him.

Repositioning himself on his knees, he raised his chest and kept and firm grip over your hip while his other hand gripped the base of his cock. You pushed back against him, not really caring how eager you were for him as he cursed breathlessly.

“Relax,” his words were clipped, the head of his cock entering you in a slow thrust. “Fuck – there we go – it’s just me.”

Letting out a deep breath as he eased himself in, the stretch familiar but still caused a shiver down your spine as it was something you hadn’t felt in nearly a year. Pushing back against him, feeling more of him slip inside of you as a sputter of words left Harry lips.

“You feel too good – fuck -,” you shifted your legs around him, the rest of him pushing inside of you as his pelvis hit yours His hands smoothed over your hips. “Please tell me it’s okay, please.”

He was everywhere, the best possible way. You sank into the mattress, thighs squeezing his hips as you ground your hips up into his.

A broken, “please baby,” escaped your lips.

Harry started with slow movements, needing a second to compose himself as feeling you in the most intimate way he could was already driving him close to the edge.

“Please what?” He muttered, a shallow thrust inside of you that had both of you biting back moans.

“More,” you whined lowly. He was holding you so tightly you were sure to be bruises, and one of his hands moved down to smooth over your thigh, a sharp smack sounding through the air paired with the light sting as you moaned into your arm. You let out a dreamy breath, feeling him pump deeper thrusts inside of you.

And God he was deep. You felt a burn deep inside your stomach, the repeating motions of his hips pushing into yours was felt so deliciously inside of you. Harry was already panting from above you, sharp breaths as he leant his weight back over yours to drag his mouth over your neck.

One of his hands sneaked around your legs, palm smoothing over your lower stomach with a slow and soothing pattern, a sharp contrast to the way he was deeply pushing into you.

“Oh…!” You moaned lowly when the hand over your belly sneaked down lower, two fingers circling over your clit right above where you were connected. “Harry –”

“Tell me it’s good,” he breathed, fingers rubbing over the sensitive bit of nerves.

“Always,” you called, voice wavering unattractively. Your own moan cut you off, voice tapering away as it seemed to get caught in your throat when his fingers moved on your clit with purpose. “You feel so good.”

Harry was watching your every reaction to him, attentive to the way you reacted – he was happy to feel as though nothing had changed after all this time, he was happy to see that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.  

He found himself holding back his tongue as confessions of love were about to spill from his lips.

Whine laced breaths were caught on Harry’s mouth when he pressed it against your own in a heavy kiss. His hips were pumping into yours with a steady pace, as if each move was so perfectly calculated when really the simple truth was that you both worked perfectly well together.

Your core was clenching around him, not even realizing that you were doing so as the euphoria in your body was building right back up. You were quietly whining his name, barely aware of the way your nails dug into his back.

Your first orgasm of the night came suddenly. It was as if something quickly snapped inside of you, a sharp break as you were quickly pushing your hips into his with an arch in your back, calling for the heavens and Harry.

His lips hovered by your ear, murmuring a string of praises while your core spasmed around him in the aftershocks of your release. It wasn’t the most mindblowing orgasm of your life, but after a long time of not being properly taken care of, it was just what you needed.

Harry barely slowed as you came around him, chest heaving into yours at the sharp pleasure of feeling you come. Though that steady pace faltered when the burning pit in his stomach seemed to grow hotter. He knew he needed to take a moment otherwise he’d be coming far too soon and he really didn’t want your first time back together again wasn’t the best he could give you.

After a short shallow thrust, the feeling of being full was suddenly lost to you as Harry slipped out of you. “Oh,” he muttered, leaning back from above you. He let out a breathless laugh, small shake in his hands. “Fuck – baby you feel incredible.”

But when he didn’t push back inside of you, you looked up at him with glossy eyes with a quiet whine of “what are you doing?”

His chest shook with a breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he willed himself to calm down. “Just, give me a sec’,” he focused all his attention on the slow movement of your hand brushing down his back.

He opened his eyes as a soft giggle escaped your lips, meeting your shinning eyes as he took in every inch of your face. Your fluttering eyelids, blissed out smile that graced your swollen lips, and rounded cheeks that followed your grin.

Raising one hand to cup over your jaw, he traced every line and curve of your face with his thumb as his lips lightly followed its path. After a quiet whimper of his name, he let his mouth fall over yours and kissed you deeply. A hand slid up over the side of your face, fingers petting over your hair in repetitive motions.

“How’re you feeling?” His lips moved over your mouth as they formed the words.

“Good,” you swallowed a dry breath. “really good.”

“We always were really good at this – take care of each other,” you could hear his smirk as his hips rutted over yours, cock sliding over the crest of your thigh. “Made for each other.”

Moaning a breathless yeah, he kissed you deeply once more before you were whining his name into his mouth.

“Please – want you to come,” you kissed over his jaw. “Fuck me – please.”

Harry sucked in a breath with a hiss, your words eliciting a twitch of his length against you. He pushed his hips with your once more, telling you a cheeky “anything for you.”

Lining himself with you once more, pushing in as he kissed over your jaw. He knew it wouldn’t be long until he would be met with his release, and with the way you were clenching around him he hoped you would as well.

You were pushing your hips up to meet his thrust, back arching over the mattress as your fingertips scratched over his back, never letting go. He was still just as deep, still hitting every spot that made you clench around him and call his name into the air as you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Grabbing under one of your thighs, he urged you to hook your legs around his waist. “Right over here,” he begged, as you easily complied, feeling him fit so snug with you. “Good girl,” he kissed the words over your lips. “Keep me here.”

He was easily working you right back up. The sex was always good with him, and you didn’t know if it was because of the recent reunion, the desperateness of the act, but this seemed especially good.

Your eyes were screwed shut, focusing on every feeling of his skin against yours. You felt Harry’s lips press gently over your closed lids.

His mouth was all over you – his hands were all over you. He was everywhere. And you welcomed every bit of it.

“Wanna,” he muttered. “Want to see you,” a kiss was pressed to your shoulder, “open your eyes for me?”

A broken praise of a low “good girl” was mumbled from his lips, as you parted your heavy lids and gazed up at him. His cheek brushed yours, seeming to kiss over every inch of your face. He bowed his head, watching the way your bodies connected – the way he sunk so deeply into you.

His pace was unrelenting, fingers gripping tightly into your skin. One of his hands slid down your arm, unwrapping it from around his back to slot your fingers together and push you into the mattress. You squeezed his hand tightly in your grip, whimpering lowly from beneath him.

He moved your connected hands up over your head, driving down inside of you in deep moves. His lips latched to your neck, muttering near nonsense over your skin. “You make me feel so good,” he groaned, “heavenly.”

Choking over a gasp when Harry’s free hand smoothed over your thigh, kneading into the swell of your bum only to give a small smack over the skin. Involuntarily clenching around him, his hips bucked as his pace grew a little more desperate.

He was nearly shaking from above you. “I’m close –”

You moaned his name over his cheek.

He grunted with a sharp thrust. “Say my name like that, shit, talk to me.”

“Harry…” your voice was low, a whisper over your skin. “Come for me, please I want to feel you.”

He screwed his eyes shut, feeling it near impossible to hold off any longer. The muscles in his stomach were clenched tight, hand holding onto yours for dear life as his mouth slide over your skin.

“I’m – fuck,” his lips brushed yours as he spoke, chest heaving against yours. “Sorry fuck…I’m coming,” he groaned your name, hips hitting one, two times hard into yours as he came inside of you. He stilled for a moment, feeling his cock twitch with his release. You squeezed his hips with your thighs, feeling his weight fall completely on you with his clammy skin sticking to yours.

Repeating your name over and over against your mouth, eyelids completely shut as your hand soothed through his hair. You could feel his heart beating erratically in his chest, a few more sloppy thrusts as he came down from his high.

Seeming like it took all his strength, he pushed himself up on his forearms so that his upper body could rise over yours, he opened his eyes with a few quick blinks.

His eyes were slightly bloodshot, and you immediately noticed the small wet patch of skin under his eyes. You were unable to help the curve in your lips, moving your hand up from the back of his head to rest against his cheek. Wiping away the little trail of tears that graced his cheekbones, you craned your neck to plant a small peck over his lips. “You okay?”

You brushed a thumb over his cheek as he spoke.

“More than,” you could feel his smile over your mouth. “Just overwhelmed – missed your body, missed feeling you.”

“God,” his chest shook with a laugh this time, a small breathless laugh with a shake of his head. “It was fast… wanted to give you more.”

He kissed you once more, tongue moving with yours in slow languid moves. Slowly withdrawing from you, you were both still sensitive and he felt nearly cold without being inside of you. He remained close on top of you, kissing over your neck and down your chest.

His lips gently sucked over your collarbone, moving lower and lower with every breath. He still held himself up with one of his arms, the other falling over your naked frame to grab at wherever he pleased. Hand smoothing down your waist, down to massaged at the sensitive skin of your thighs before moving back up again.

Raising his head, you watched through strands of his hanging hair as his swollen lips circled around your nipple. You felt sensitive all over, every nerve in your body on extremely high alert due to the man hovering over you that was making your head spin.

“What are you –” your voice was quiet once again, a subtle whine laced with the words when Harry sucked darkened marks into your skin. “What are you doing?”

“Let me give you one more,” his voice came out hot, mouth now kissing down your stomach. He rested his cheek on your skin, peering up at your through his eyelashes. “Please? I want to give you one more.”

You moaned breathlessly; the subtle throbbing of your core still apparent ever since he’d withdrawn from you. Murmuring his name into the air, you let your shoulders relax back into the plush mattress as his hands felt up the warm skin of your sides is slow soothing motions. “Give me one more.”

“G’na have to open those legs for me again,” his hands fell to your hips, readjusting himself so that he could lie his body on the mattress. You easily did as he’d said, allowing your knees to fall open and hit the bed. They didn’t stay there for very long, Harry grabbing a light hold of your ankle to place on his shoulder before kissing up your thigh.

Quiet curse was heard in the room when he caught sight of your swollen folds, a mix of both your arousals leaking down your skin.

He quickly caught the salty mix with his mouth, the sudden feeling of his tongue making you gasp with a small jolt. His hands were back on you, holding at your hips as he muttered to keep your thighs close around his head.

His tongue darted over your skin, tasting both of your releases with tantalizingly slow licks. He moved over your hole, a light push inside the warmth before withdrawing just as fast. He held your hips tightly, fingertips digging into the skin to no doubt leave little crescent moon shaped marks of his nails. Barely brushing over your clit, you’re hips were twitching up in search for more of him as the sensitivity seemed to be heightened.

He was working you up the way you knew he would.

Instead of diving right in, he gave you light, barely there touches of teasing licks and hot breaths to work you right up. The tip of his tongue brushed over your clit, circling it over the little bit of nerves in a way that had you calling his name in a breathless pant.

You hadn’t even noticed that one of your hands had found its way to pull at his hair, tugging at the thick strands at ever little touch of his tongue.

And just as you knew him to, he didn’t give you much warning before wrapping his lips around your clit and gave it a harsh suck. Your hips bucked in his touch, the pleasure of his touch coursing up to your head and down to your toes. Your heel dug into his shoulder, not at all caring that much at how tightly you were holding him.

It wouldn’t be long until your second orgasm.

His fingers dragged around your thighs, pushing through your wet folds as he pulled back to watch your slickness coat is fingers.

Lips back on the fleshiest parts of your thighs, he was kissing and sucking until the skin had been completely covered by his touch.

His fingers finally pushed inside of you, two of them maneuvering with skill into the perfect spots that hade you gripping onto him for dear life. Lips back over the bundle of nerves, he licked a slow strip with an obscene sound, before offering your clit all of his attention.

Your orgasm was definitely not far off from the way he moaned over you.

Your hand locked with his again, as you sought it out from where it was holding your thigh down. You caught Harry’s gaze, as he peered up at your through heavy eyelids with blown pupils and red cheeks.

He gave your hand a tight squeeze from where it rested on your leg, doubling his efforts with harsh sucks that had your hips bucking over his mouth.

His fingers were keeping a steady pace, curling up as he wanted nothing more than to have you unravel for him. You cried out his name, knowing how much he loved to hear you moan for him.

“Want you – gonna come for me, right?” He muttered, pulling away for a slight moment as he watched his fingers disappear inside of you. He couldn’t decide where to hold his gaze – from his wet fingers, to your heaving chest, to your completely blissed out face.

“Yeah,” you moaned dreamily, clenching tightly around his fingers as your orgasm was seconds away. “Harry, oh …!”

The heat in your stomach was unbearable, and suddenly you were floating from the mattress as your orgasm took over your body.

Harry’s eyes snapped to yours, watching them fall over him with heart shaped pupils before you were squeezing them shut in pure pleasure. He watched every move of your body, fingers keeping their motions inside of you until your shoulders relaxed back down onto the mattress.

“Shit,” he breathed against your skin, meeting the heavy breaths that were puffing from your chest. “That was…”

He sucked in fingers into his mouth, catching every last taste of you with one last lick over your swollen core that had you whimper in your sensitivity. Another loud kiss right over your hip, he was quickly crawling back up your body until he laying right by your side.

You rolled your head on the mattress, facing him. “That was what?” You quietly asked, smile easily gracing your features.

“Hot,” he breathed with a quiet laugh, “you’re so – beautiful, gorgeous, sexy –”

You pushed yourself to rest completely on your side, hand slide around his shoulder so that you could lean forward and connect your swollen lips.

He was holding you close against his body, a loving and intimate touch that only Harry could give you.

Exhausted seemed to settle into every muscle of your body but a nice kind of tired, like after a long day in the sun. Simply holding each other in a soft embrace, you stayed like that for a while. You couldn’t believe you had just had sex with your ex, with your ex who you were now apparently seeing again.

A little smile grew on your lips.

You couldn’t believe how much you still loved him.

Harry was tracing the line of your shoulder, a mindless action as he enjoyed the feeling of you next to him. He could tell that you were thinking about something, but he didn’t push it. He saw a little roundness to your cheeks, a little smile pulling at your mouth and it warmed his still rapidly beating heart.

After a moment you reluctantly lifted yourself away from Harry to stand from the bed. Limbs slipping from his, you went from feeling every inch of his skin to none at all.

“Where are you going,” he called with a groan, although followed your motions until his feet were planted over the floor.

“Washroom,” you called behind you, settling down on shaky legs as you made the short walk. You peered over your shoulder and where Harry was still sitting on the bed. “Can I borrow some clothes again?”

Harry smiled. “What’s mine is yours.”

You only laughed with a little shake to your head, taking a moment for yourself as you got yourself cleaned up. Moments later harry was by your side, pulling a warm hoodie over your head.

He was unable to keep his hands off of you.

Whether it was as you did your nightly routine and he was pressing his side against your, or when he hugged you from behind to kiss over the side of your face, or when his hand gripped yours to pull you back to bed.

The best was always lying close next to him, feeling his heartbeat steady with yours as sleep easily took over your tired bodies. His lips smoothed over the top of your head, telling you a quiet “goodnight, m’love.”

It was the best sleep the both of you had in months.

more to come .. thank you for reading and please let me know what you think <3

[sweetbunnykook]

Only You (9)

Word Count: 13,197 // [SPOILER IN WARNINGS] angst (mention of double homicide, gore/blood, miscarriage, mistreatment of a corpse, panic attack), smut (period sex, cunnilungus, blowjob, throatpie, body worship, mommy kink), brief fluff, toxic relationship, manipulation

Photographer!Jungkook X Noona!Reader

Summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.  

A/N: If you are still reading this series, I wish you the best of luck. Please leave a review if you can and let me know your thoughts. - 🐰

You were every mother’s blessing – kind, caring, intelligent, obedient. She watched you stumble and fall many times but you manage to catch your footing with a smile. Despite your yearning for independence, your mother kept you in her embrace as all mothers do. In some ways, it would be loving; things like helping you choose the venue for your wedding and holding your hand while you inquire about using chiffon instead of silk for your veil. You were such a wonderful daughter that she didn’t wish for a son even when you decided to carve your own path rather than follow your father’s footsteps into medicine and entrepreneurship.

It’s why your mother sits in the parking lot of your apartment complex, dumbfounded beyond belief, teeth gritted. She looks up at your window to see Jungkook staring back down at her, unable to read him. She holds his steel hard gaze, daring him to look away or pull the curtains close.

He doesn’t take the bait.  

Pulling the shifting gear and rolling out of the parking lot, she peels her eyes away and takes several deep breaths.

There is no way on God’s green Earth that you fell in love with a middle-class photographer. Of all people, of all the men in your circle, affluent men coming from money both new and old, you couldn’t have fallen for a lowly photographer who doesn’t care about you enough to know his place and leave you be. How could Jungkook not know that you aren’t meant to live like this? How could he be so selfish as to hope for marriage when he could barely afford the ring he wants to slip onto your finger?

Your mother throws back her head and cackles. The only reason you were able to study abroad during college, the only reason why you could walk into an upscale neighborhood and look like you belong there, is because she followed the natural way. She never loved your father, not even once, but he was a good husband and an even better financial asset. Not only did she not have to lift a finger after tying the knot, but she also became part of the untouchables.

There’s a sense of power and invincibility that comes with wealth. It comes softly, like a whisper of wind that keeps a dandelion intact; it’s invisible to the eyes but she can feel it when she shakes hands with politicians, celebrities, businessmen and women, important people doing important things.

It took nearly twenty years of work. Getting close to the Kims, making sure you attend the same school as their children, running into Namjoon when you visit their vacation home, and letting his parents witness what a great wife you would be for him – it was all going so well. Puberty treated you well enough too that she didn’t need to consider getting you minor cosmetic procedures when you graduated high school. Sure, you could lose a few more pounds, but you were healthy and fit to give the Kims, and her, the grandchildren who will guarantee a new generation of wealth and prosperity. Gone are the days when she could only dream about creating the perfect family, respected by the social circle and the general public. You, her lifelong project, made it all come true.

Yet, life proves to be cruel once again.

As soon as she set her eyes on Yori she knew she was trouble. She didn’t object when you stayed out later and wore a bit more makeup than what was deemed graceful for a woman of your age. She knew that if she’d raised her voice, you would be compelled to rebel (it didn’t help that you were as stubborn and thick-skinned as your father). However, she wanted to warn you, just a tiny bit, that Yori is the kind of girl whose eyes strayed to find a new target and you were a hair away from standing right in the middle of that mark. She knew, because Yori had the kind of eyes she had as a twenty-year-old woman who climbed that very same social ladder.  

You were such a good daughter, so intelligent and transparent, that she believed you would have the backbone to come into your mother’s arms at the first sign of danger. It looks like you were just as clueless as the rest of the sheep you called your bridesmaids.

A Jeep honks from the next lane as she swerves into the street and bangs on the steering wheel with the heel of her hand, her Cartier bracelets clanking together in unity. The light turns yellow and she stomps on the accelerator, lurching the vehicle forward.

At the end of the day, she knew it was her fault. She could have warned you earlier, planted seeds of doubt in your mind, even pull Namjoon back into your arms if you realized soon enough; but alas, your day was chosen to be one of desolation and misfortune. Her poor daughter, the apple of her eye, the one precious gem of a person who would propel the family into royalty, whisked right away from under her nose.

She shakes her head, tires screaming as she veers into the next semi-busy lane, watching the sun disappear into the horizon as the familiar roads darken.

Letting you mourn on your own terms was the biggest mistake of her life, second to not following her gut feeling and keeping Yori away from you. She knew about this photographer lover of yours who has the face of an angel and seem to follow you like a puppy wherever you go. From a distance, she’d watched you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with such fervor in a public space she felt bile rise for the first time looking at you – her most precious creation acting like a hussy for all to see.

The boy seemed to be in love with you as much as you depended on him. She waited until you would be sick of him like the ones you took to bed after the wedding night (yes, she knew about your shameful conquests). She waited countless nights, praying that you would come to your senses, that you won’t refuse her advances, until months later she sees you living with him and sharing meals and completely forgetting about her. Yes, she had been mainly focused on making sure the investors haven’t pulled out and that you still had a name for yourself after the wedding. It wasn’t an ideal response as a mother because you needed help and she knew you’d throw a hissy fit but you must understand that while you had been taking men to bed, she had been busting her ass saving what’s left of the family pride.

The Kims also attempted to salvage your reputation, but they won’t do so at the cost of Namjoon’s name. The true reality is that parents will only care for their own blood in the end.

It’s why she finds herself confused and drenched with sweat when the car halts in front of the white villa lined with jasmine bushes. There’s a new gate installed, probably to keep away reporters during the first few weeks after the wedding incident hit the papers, and it momentarily angered her that she must now ask an intercom to enter a space that should have been a gift to you from the Kims.

Her hands tighten around the steering wheel with the intent to squeeze something warm and pulsing. She still remembered the day Yori knelt on the floor of your dressing room and she still remembered the strands of hair that squeezed her fingertips as she tore the whore’s flower hair clip off her head. The yelling, the panic, the uproar, the whispers that came from the guests – it was humiliation to the tenth degree.

Wiping the bead of sweat off her temples with the back of her hand, your mother hushes the engine and places the key in her coat. She steps out of the vehicle and marches up to the gate and buzzes in, huffing when her heels wobble on the cobblestone steps.

A few heartbeats later, Yori’s voice pours through her ears and reached into the crevices of her scalp like a dull headache.

“Hello?”

She leans forward. “It’s me.”

There’s a long pause before the gates click open and the stone stairway up to the front door reveals itself with a moist gleam. The garden sprinklers die down just as she steps onto the platform and makes her way up to the front door where Yori is leaning against, one hand on her stomach, the other hand tucking her fringe away from her face. She notes that the knitted silk dress, tied above the swell of her belly, is from the latest Prada collection.

“What a pleasant surprise,” she smiles. “Come in. Welcome to my home. I apologize for the mess…I had a baby shower earlier today and help is gone for the rest of the week.”

Your mother wanted to rip that smug grin off her face but she kept her eyebrows still and her lips soft.

“Excuse my intrusion.”

She walks into the spacious living room, eyes quickly glancing at the stacks of presents on the couch and the empty bottles of sparkling water and champagne sitting on the coffee table. She can recognize, just from the color of the boxes, that the gifts were not cheap. Had you married Namjoon, this would have been your palace.

“I’m in the middle of decorating the nursery. If you don’t mind…” Yori says, not bothering to look back as she makes her way up the stairs. She didn’t have to turn around to see that steam is coming out of your mother’s ears. “Can you help me with unrolling the mat in the hallway? I can’t bend over very well.”

Your mother trails behind in place of answering, watching Yori’s hip swing side to side as she makes her way up the stairs and then turn to leer down at the older woman. It’s a bit laughable, Yori thinks, as your mother pretends not to ogle at the stacks of Tiffany blue boxes tucked beside the living room couch like shoeboxes. Her face flushes when she meets Yori’s eyes once more but she doesn’t comment as she follows the young woman into the hallway just a few feet away from the stairs. Her head turns at the smell of fresh paint to see the nursery on her left, the door left open as if the room expected her arrival.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

Yori fixes her fringe once more. “He needed to attend a conference in Ginza. I’ll tell him you stopped by.”

“There’s no need.” She leers at the stacks of presents next to the crib. More aquamarine boxes, all neatly stacked according to size with the smallest at the top.

The younger woman leans against the tall, heavy vase next to the wall leading into the hallway to the East wing. “If you say so.”

There’s no reason for your mother to be here. It should be you instead, coming back to tie loose ends and perhaps inquire about Namjoon’s injuries if you cared enough. Compared to your mother, you didn’t have much of a backbone when it comes to relationships and it makes it so easy for men to take what they want and go. It’s what made you a bore, what gave Yori the power to pull Namjoon right into her bed and have him calling her name like a prayer.  

“Did you forget basic manners?” Your mother finally snaps, beady eyes darting from side to side to admire the nursery that could have been a snapshot from a furniture magazine. “Not even offering a glass of water?”

Yori only smiles, motioning to the unrolled mat slumped against the wall, adjacent from the staircase.

“I assumed whatever you wanted say would be quick as you came uninvited. You’d probably think the water is poisoned even if I offered any way.”

The older woman glances at the rug – no doubt imported from Dubai with its elegant coloring and silk touch – then walks over to it before tracing her fingers around the rolled edges. She shouldn’t have accepted to do such demeaning housework but given how she pulled into the driveway unannounced and that the woman is heavily pregnant with no help around, it was only fair. She may have left behind her patience with Jungkook but not her manners.  

“Why did you have to pick that day to tell her?”

Yori’s eyebrows raised just slightly before falling back down to its former position. She puts a hand over her stomach and walks towards the giant vase again, rubbing her fingers over the cool lacquered surface. Namjoon’s parents had a thing for porcelain she just couldn’t wrap her head around.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you wait until the marriage ceremony to tell her you were screwing her husband?”

“Husband?” She cocks her head to the side with an incredulous widening of her pupils. “Last time I checked he only had a fiancée he rarely saw who ran away with some pretty photographer the first chance she got. I’d say that’s far from married.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Answer the question,” she looks down, chin trembling. The world is falling apart, her dreams are nothing but a pebble in quicksand, and you no longer cared. “Please.”

Yori watches, in a way one watches a fly buzzing around a piece of fruit, the older woman bring her hands together in front of her like it has taken all her energy to ask such a question. Maybe for a moment she considers telling the woman the truth. She considers telling her that you broke her heart first, that you had the world succumbing to your every need, that your mother’s greed doesn’t only belong to her but you too because you made Seokjin your lap dog while Namjoon promised you a future. She considers telling her about the night she saw you laying like a swooning damsel in distress as Seokjin – the only man she had to beg for attention – suckle your tits like you were getting paid for it. She considers telling your mother that her daughter is the two-faced whore here, not her. She considers telling her that you touched what belonged to someone else first.

But what difference would it make? What would it change? The baby is still due in a handful of weeks, Namjoon is set to take over the company once he gets his shit together and his nose heals, and you’re perfectly happy with a new and exciting boyfriend of yours. The truth doesn’t set anyone free, it just makes sure the shackles aren’t too tight.

Yori turns her moist eyes away towards the living room downstairs. She walks over to the railing, resting her wrist on the copper before she stares down at the half-eaten cake on the coffee table with utmost disgust, as if she can still smell the overly sweet frosting with too much blue and pink dye. Catching her voice, she brings the smile back onto her face.

“I picked that day,” she turns her head, just slightly to catch your mother’s expression. “Just because I wanted to watch her look as pathetic as you do now.”

Your mother’s lips part, hands falling to her sides.

“It just happened. That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s…all?”

Yori chuckles, her empty gaze falling back down to the cake. “That’s all.”

Years of planning, years of giving you the best education the country has to offer, years of making sure you never have to suffer as she had, years of shaking hands and kissing the ground the Kims walk on, only for this girl without new or old money to come and…

Before your mother can think, she lunges forward and grabs Yori by the ends of her hair, twisting the locks around her wrist as the younger woman gasps and shrieks. Her swollen stomach hits your mother’s side as she screeches and uses both hands to grab at her taught hair, pulling away to place as much distance she can. The heel of her ankle catches the edge of the first step and she watches the older woman’s eyes widen as she slams, back first, into the steps and then bounce off the next step as her jaw and skull slams into the copper pipe railing. Yori’s stomach hits the corners of the last several steps before the swell of her belly squeezes inwards, the final gurgling scream ripping out of her throat as her vision turns black and the house falls in silence.

It all happened so fast. Your mother watches with her hands over her ears, chest pounding and bracelets clattering as her limbs turn cold and her knees buckle.  

Her eyes widen, more and more, as the pool of blood around Yori’s head expands until there lays maroon halo around her crown. She’s lying flat on her stomach and it takes another moment for the trembling woman to realize that, in the silence save for her own labored breathing, the bump is no longer there.

“Oh my god…”

Curling over to the side, your mother’s jaw falls open and the remnants of her early lunch spills over one of Yori’s shoes ledged between the railing and the first step. She empties her stomach until there is nothing left, her knuckles white as she grips the railing for support. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she descends down the staircase, back pressed against the wall and eyes darting from the body to the tinted windows with burgundy curtains tied to the side. When she reaches the body, she trips over Yori’s limp feet as she quickly dashes to the living room to draw the curtains close, her neck craning from side to side as she finds any opening where an imaginary eye might witness the ultimate sin. It was only when she finds herself in the kitchen, washing her hands that she realized she had, in fact, stolen two lives.

Yori, and the baby who never had the chance to see daylight.

…

You’re sitting in a bathroom stall, turning over the small flash drive between your fingers when you hear the clattering of heels against polished tile and the sound of handbags slumping on the counter. One of the women walks into the stall next to yours, undoing the tampon wrapper as if she were scouring for the winning lottery number written on the string.

“Did you see Jin with her again?” The woman outside of the stall says and you recognize her by voice. She works for the accounting department and regularly walks into your office for weekly reports.

“I was keeping an eye of him. It’s annoying that they work together now so he’s always all over her.”

No doubt this conversation is about you.

“Tell me about it. I bet they’re fucking, you saw how he looked at her.”

“Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” The toilet flushes and you can hear her shrugging her skirt back up to her thighs.

You hear a gasp. “Oh my god, you’re right. It’s that young guy who keep bringing her lunch, right? She didn’t break up with him?”

The stall opens and both women are in front of the counter. You’re stuck in your seat, not knowing whether to kick open the door or to interrupt the conversation but with Seokjin’s flash drive in your clammy hands, you struggle to even breathe.

“They’re still together. Looks like that photographer dick is too good to give up for the office hunk.”

They laugh like hyenas – that high, shrieking kind of laugh that makes their red lipstick bleed onto the corners of their mouths.

“They’re so out of her league. What do they even see in her? She’s painfully average. The only thing she’s got going on is a good wardrobe.”

You keep your head lowered when they walk past your stall as if they could see you. They pull on the paper towel lever until they can rip a generous piece and wipe their hands.

“She’s rich. She’s probably only working here because it keeps her humble or some bullshit like that. You know how girls with daddy’s money are, thinking they’re doing charity for working like the rest of us-”

You don’t hear the rest of their conversation, glad that your face no longer feels hot but you’re angered all the same. Jungkook’s visits, for this reason, had made you nervous in the beginning because you know they’ll talk and come up with their own little villain fantasy about you. It doesn’t bother you as you keep work separate from life (something Jungkook had been interrupting much to your discomfort) but hearing it in person ignited the kind of angry tears that has you cursing at yourself for letting yourself be disturbed by it.

You grab your handbag off the hook, place the flash drive back in your pocket, and unlock the stall before pushing the door open. You wash your hands in haste as the air had become suffocating in the aftermath of the two women. Wiping your wet hands down your black slacks, you let your wavy hair down and let it frame your face to hide your flushed cheeks, making sure that your eyes are no longer moist and your nose isn’t pink. What a way to end a workday.

When you arrive back at the office, most of your coworkers are gone except for the new interns organizing papers for tomorrow and the occasional workaholics making coffee in the makeshift cafeteria. You just hope you won’t run into the two women if they choose to swing by for whatever reason but, thankfully, it was never a common occurrence. They never did above the bare minimum any way.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you slump back down your office chair, squeezing your nose bridge as a wave of exhaustion wracks havoc in your pulsing head.

“There are some more sandwiches in the fridge, please help yourself if you’d like.” A student intern says as she carries a crumpled file under one arm, peering from above your divider.

“Oh!” You exclaim, your head darting towards the room Sora left in a mess before turning back to the girl. “Thank you, I’ll help myself. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gives a short nod before leaving, the glass door squeaking as the office once again is filled with the sound of coffee machines whirring and papers shredding.

The USB flash drive sits heavy in your pocket as you wave goodbye to the last person leaving your department with a cup of coffee. She nods, smiling, and pushes out the heavy glass door and you silently hope she won’t forget to return the mug before leaving the building. You listen to the clacking of her heels fading before turning back to the work computer still logged into your account. The saturated blue screen is harsh on your vision and you find yourself squeezing your eyes shut, turning to look at the clock on the wall momentarily to keep yourself grounded.

Jungkook can call at any minute as your shift is coming to an end.

Maybe it would be easier to do this with your phone turned off but knowing him, he would worry enough to drive over to make sure you’re safe.

Within the gray walls that surround your cubicle, you should feel secure. Yet, some part of you wonders if he would suddenly appear behind you and wrap you in his arms before asking you what you’re up to. In this nightmare of a scenario, you can also feel the antagonizing gaze of the two women.

Looking back down at the USB, you’ve come to realize that you have bigger things to worry about. Some part of you feels just as disgusting as a cheater taking off her ring in the presence of another man.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

You’ve rehearsed the same mantra in your head at least a hundred times within the same hour (before you had the unfortunate chance to overhear that unpleasant conversation) and it sickens you that this is a phrase that Namjoon would have used to justify his time with Yori. It’s a cheater’s mentality – a cowardly way of shifting responsibility away from themselves without considering the consequences when the truth comes to light.  

With a sigh, you pull the flash drive out of your pocket and flip the black casing open until the lid hangs off its hinges to reveal the silver end. You look around once more, taking a deep breath, and push the end into the appropriate slot of the system unit. The USB flashes a neon green light, pulsing as it loads, before it dims and a small ping pulls your attention back to the screen.

The file explorer window expands, showing a ZIP file among an array of photos that had you squinting to observe. You jolt straight from the seat as your phone rings. Cursing under your breath as you note an incoming call. You’re just about to turn back to the screen when you recognize that the number flashing across your screen isn’t Jungkook’s but your mother’s. She never called at this time and if she did, she would have texted you first to make sure you weren’t in a meeting.

Just as you reach for the phone, it stops ringing and you contemplate turning it off. But something tells you you should have taken the call. When the phone rings again, causing you to flinch, you let it vibrate twice before swiping across the screen.

In exactly five minutes, you will regret ever picking up the call. In ten minutes, you’re running for your life.

…

Jungkook paces back and forth with his thumb between his teeth. If he bit his nails any shorter, he would pierce through skin. Your voice still rings in his ear as you cry into the phone, your tires screaming through the speaker as you speed through the streets back to the apartment. He’s sick with worry, wondering if you crashed into a tree of if you decided – on a whim – to handle this situation yourself. Because you called him immediately after you left work, he has a feeling you wouldn’t do anything stupid but today has been especially unpredictable.

First, your mother coming to meet him. Second, the same woman pushing Yori down the stairs and threatening you to take care of it. If he’d heard you correctly, the old wench even mentioned she would make his life a living hell if you don’t head over immediately. Some mother you are. It pisses him off to no end that you had to live with her for half of your life but it makes him even more upset that you’ve been hiding your mother’s behavior, throwing excuses about how much she worries when she’d call in the mornings and leave voicemails that you delete without listening.

He changes into a pair of jeans and an old university sweatshirt that is a bit too tight on the cuffs. When he hears the sound of your heels clack on the other side of the door, he barely had the time to wrap his head around such a God-given opportunity.

As soon as the door swings open you’re falling into his arms, wracked with sobs as he engulfs your entire torso in his arms. He presses your head further below his neck, reaching behind you to grab his coat off the hanger and wrap it around you before kicking the door close in case a neighbor passes by. You can’t bear to lift your head, trembling as your teeth chatter and your pupils are wide with fear. He’s never seen you like this – not even during the wedding night – and it makes his insides squeeze as if someone had reached in him and pressed a hand against his organs.

“I-I don’t know w-” you sob, “I don’t know w-what to do. I can’t breathe. Jungkook-”

He hushes you softly, threading his fingers through your hair with his thumbs curling around your ear. He tilts your head up towards his gaze, watching your tears trail down your face and onto the coat. Between gasps, you’re wailing, your throat tightened to the point that even his name sounds like nails on chalkboard on your lips.

“Noona, you have to breathe for me. Inhale,” he brings air into his nostrils as demonstration, “and exhale. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, swallowing first before you mimic and close your eyes. Jungkook brings a hand up to your chest, digging underneath the coat to feel it pounding against your ribcage.

“Keep breathing, noona. It’s going to be okay, keep breathing.” He rubs his warm palm over the chiffon and you find yourself leaning your forehead against his chest in exhaustion.

You wish you could stay in his embrace forever. Locked inside this warm and unassuming apartment, away from your mother, away from the past that has now resurfaced in the worst way imaginable – you wish you can curl into his arms and never leave. That…or you just want the world to swallow you in a deep well and leave you to starve.

“We have to tell the police.” You tremble. You can’t imagine the repercussions, not to mention the heartache of seeing your mother behind bars. She’d rather hang herself than end up in prison, you know that much. You’d sworn to your father before his passing that you’d keep her safe and you’re already thinking of running away.

“Noona…”

“We do. We…I have to. I-I mean it was an accident,” you’re suddenly peeling yourself away from him, bringing your hands up to rub your face. “They’ll give her m-maybe three or four years at most, right? If it was an accident it won’t be…”

Jungkook comes up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders and rubbing up and down. You’re shaking again, tears streaming even quicker than before and the nausea is causing you to falter from side to side.

“Kookie, I don’t know what to do. Please tell me what to do, I’m going crazy. I don’t know what to do.”

He places his forehead against the crown of your head, staring into the distance. You feel his fingers tighten around your arm before he’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his weight upon your collarbones.

“Do you trust me, noona?” He whispers.

The fridge hums in the distance. You nod.

“Yes…I trust you. With my life.”

When he doesn’t reply, you turn your body, slowly, as if you were anticipating a monster and not a man, until you can look up at his face. He’s rubs his thumbs over your tears and moves down to your chapped lips, swollen and pink from your incessant gnawing. Your lips part just slightly as you exhale, keeping your eyes locked onto his loving eyes. He looks so angelic under the kitchen lights, the yellow bulbs blurred by the moisture in your eyes to form a halo around his long fringe. His hair is parted in the middle to form a curtain around his structured face, casting a shadow over his eyes in the semi-darkness. You can’t see him clearly with the lights behind him but you can sense his confidence, his reassuring grip on your cheeks; he’s no longer the boy from the night before but a man who is willing to keep the promise he made to you.

“I can help you.” He whispers softly once more, his voice lowered. “If you take me to the body…I can help you, noona.”

He holds your gaze, his thumbs still rubbing softly over your cheeks as if to coax the words into your skin. The implication isn’t lost on you but your body reacts first, fingers shaking as a fresh wave of sweat prickles down your back.

“W-What do you…” you trail off as your breathing grows heavy. Jungkook puts a hand on your chest once more as he did before, rubbing softly over your chest to calm your pounding heart.

He holds you close, breathing in your skin once more as his own eyes sting with unshed tears. Fate is a terrible thing and for every moment of bliss with you, he must pay the price; except, this price is a new opportunity to secure you by his side and earn your mother’s silent approval. It’s okay, Jungkook thinks, he can do this for you. He has the resources, the will, the strength, the plans – the only thing he can’t predict is your mental well-being in the aftermath.

Will you lose respect for him? Will you still love him? One thing he was sure of was that this was the only chance to keep your mother from arranging a marriage partner for you. He must go through it to not only save your sanity, your mother, but your answer when he puts one knee on the ground and opens the velvet box he keeps on top of the fridge for the perfect time. Oh how the universe responded so quickly to the day’s worries.

“Back then…when you said you would…”

Kill

“…You would do that for me. You really meant it, baby?”

Jungkook brings your head back under his chin and keeps you there, rocking from side to side as if to lull you to sleep.

“I meant every word. I’m not afraid, noona, not if it means I can protect you and your family.” His eyes darken as he tangles his fingers into your hair, twirling the ends of your waves between his fingers. “You love me, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then I need you to listen to me.”

With great reluctance, he pulls you away and holds your palm in both of his larger hands. Your eyes are closed, whether from fatigue or concentration he doesn’t know until your brows scrunch when he speaks.  

“Call your mother when I tell you to and tell her you’re on your way over. If she asks why you didn’t answer her previous calls, tell her you had an emergency at work. Reassure her and make sure she doesn’t touch anything more than she’s probably already touched by now. Don’t mention that I’m coming with you, understand? She might panic and bring attention to herself if there’s any witnesses.”

You nod continuously, creating a mental checklist. Call, inform, excuse, reassure, move.

“And noona?”

You look back up into his eyes.

“You…you won’t hate me after tonight…would you?”

How could you fathom it? With his warm, sincere stare and willingness to walk to the ends of earth for someone as plain and unlovable as you, you should be on your knees worshipping him. You don’t understand how he can think of you hating him when he had so willingly put his entire life at risk without reluctance. You aren’t asking him to fetch a forgotten carton of milk at the corner store. You’re asking him to clean up the mess your mother made, a mess that can tear your entire world apart, a mess that has nothing to do with your boyfriend who has no boundaries to prove his devotion.

You shake your head. “I could never,” you breathe.

You hold him this time, letting his body bow towards your trembling figure as he breathes in the scent of sweat and perfume on your neck. You give him a moment of peace. You wanted him to remember this touch as after this night is over, you don’t know if you’ll be the same person. You don’t know if he’ll be either.

He goes over the plan once more and leads you to his car. When Jungkook straps you into the passenger seat and turns the ignition key, you curl your fingers around your shaking knees. He notices your anxiety and takes the closest hand in his before letting your palm rest over the gear shift. He places his own hand on top of yours, gripping tightly when he shifts and maneuvers the car out of the parking lot and onto the road before unclenching.

The sky is pitch black and the moon stalks from behind. You count every tree, read every sign, tense at every sign of a police car passing by, and sniffle when your burning eyes refuse to calm. You don’t register where you are until Jungkook lets go of your hand on the shifting gear and undo his seatbelt. You’re inside the garage of his studio, surrounded by wires, cardboard boxes, plastic bins, and office supplies. When you grasp his arm, letting out a small cry, he hushes you instantly, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“I’ll be quick, noona. I just need to get some things, okay? I’ll be right there-” he points to the very back of the car – “in view.”

You swallow, nodding before uncurling your grip from his arm.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint for Jungkook not to coo at your desperation. He missed this dependency of yours (he had only seen it during the wedding night and the necklace argument) and for once he wonders if he went a bit too far with his role as the sweet and needy boyfriend. He’s not acting in a way that he doesn’t want to but he is guilty of dramatizing some of his pleas and affectionate touches. He knows, in his head, that he is a man. He’s stronger, taller, capable of committing a crime and not just cleaning its aftermath, and will eventually be the father of your children. He’ll tug his collar open to expose his vulnerabilities, but he will show you his strength too. Tonight is a blessing from the universe that will, finally, keep you where you belong: at his side, looking at him, and needing only him.

You watch as Jungkook swings open the trunk of his car and load three large plastic bins and pile photography equipment – tripods, developer fluids, camera bags, lighting equipment, and even a small monitor. And then you see the last box of supplies: rope, black plastic bags, gloves, masks, bleach, towels, and tape. When his eyes meet yours, he flashes you a small smile between his labored breaths, the kind you’re used to seeing after you make love to him and he’s spent, sprawled on the sheets with an arm over his perspired forehead. The car jolts slightly as pushes the back door shut and hop back into the driver seat, adjusting the temperature in the car, muttering something under his breath, and latching his seat belt back on.

He keeps both hands on the wheel. “Noona…make the call now.”

You’re frozen, hands clasped together on your lap.

“Kookie…”

You’re having doubts. He can see it in the way you can’t even bear to look at him. He digs through your pocket and presses your cell phone on your lap. When the lockscreen awakens to the photo of you two, you feel your heart anchor to the bottom of your stomach.

“I-I can’t do it.” You shake your head. “We have to go to the police. I can’t live without you, I can’t live without mom, we’ll get caught and I-” You press your hands to your face, your hoarse sobs lodged deep in your throat before it rips from your chest in the kind of wailing that makes Jungkook’s own heart squeeze. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Yori either e-even if it means my family…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”

He sees himself in you. He sees himself as the teen boy who let Taehyung drag his scalpel across his father, then his mother, before encouraging him to give it a try. You’re a virgin. Even if tonight worked out perfectly according to his plans, you’d still be a crime virgin. It was your mother who pushed Yori, not you. Knowing how empathetic you are, how tender you are, it might as well be you who pushed the woman down the stairs. He knows your fear all too well and he knows just how quick your hummingbird heartbeat is underneath his coat that you’re wearing. You’re just like him.

“You’re beautiful, noona.” He places a palm over your clasped hands and brings his other hand up to your face, tucking your hair behind your ears and strumming your cheeks with the back of his fingers.

“No one deserves your kindness. It fucking upsets me,” he swallows, allowing his eyes to water, “that even a mother will take advantage of that kindness.”

You sob into his hand, leaning your temple against the head rest. He’s right. How many times have your mother, before Jungkook came into your life, morphed you into something you’re not? The days you spent trying to please her, comparing yourself to other children she would complement to get a reaction out of you, letting yourself be a pawn for when she wanted something from your father that either required money or the right handshake. You still love her above all because she’s your mother but there’s no denying how much it still touches every part of your life from your relationships to your career. Moving away from her and letting her fade into the background was a true feat and it pains you that all that effort crumbled away and you’re left in a bigger mess to clean than before. If only you hadn’t taken the fucking call.

Maybe this was your fault. Maybe, if you hadn’t been such a hard-headed person, she would never had driven over to Yori’s place and none of this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have to get Jungkook involved either, as willing as he is.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Jungkook slouches back into his seat, putting his hands back onto the steering wheel. “Don’t you, noona?”

You nod, keeping your head lowered.

“Then be good for me and call. I’ll take care of you and I’ll take care of everything else. I’ve never broken that promise, not now, not ever.”

Jungkook hopes that’ll work. He’s rather annoyed but not at you, never at you. Why couldn’t she tumble down those stairs too instead of giving you such unnecessary stress? This kind of stain would be terrible for the baby had you been pregnant. It’s tearing him apart watching how different you are now compared to this morning, leaving the apartment in comfort only to come falling into his arms in tears. He came to the conclusion that you’re simply too pure for the world.

Oh how romantic tonight would be if you were honest with yourself all along. Claiming to loathe your mother with the strength of a thousand suns only to act like this when she shows up with baggage. Jungkook can’t blame you for you shared a majority of your life with the wench, but he finds it exasperating that you can’t see how little of your pity people like her deserve. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t be the love of his life if you weren’t so sensitive and caring.

It was with great relief that you mustered the courage to swipe across the phone screen and type your mother’s number.

He clicks open the garage door and the vehicle begins to descend down the elevated lot.

“M-mom? I’m on my way now…c-can you tell me where you are? It’ll be okay…I know mom, I-I’ll be there soon…”

…

You feel eerily calm as Jungkook drives past your mother’s car parked in the front of the gate to circle around the perimeter of the fence. He doesn’t recognize the new gate but he’d climbed over the old ones many times to watch you on the balcony. The metal may have changed but the level of security should be the same given that the villas are built a good distance apart between trees and the residents – people with mostly new money – keep to themselves. Lodged between a large tree and a partial opening in the back gate that is no doubt left ajar by your mother, Jungkook step out of the vehicle and press the door close before coming over to your side.

He’s relieved that you’re no longer in tears but your hands are still freezing cold despite the heat turned to the max inside. Your eyes are wandering and your breaths are labored as you press your body close to Jungkook’s.

Your mother is waiting near the door, her head poking out just slightly in the darkness and you can see the familiar row of bracelets on her wrist. She seems to have aged several years in just the last few months and the reason for her demise is standing next to you.

“Are you insane?” She seethes as she pulls you by the arm into the dark house and keep her eyes on Jungkook whose gaze bore into her skull. “How could you bring another-”

Jungkook barely had the time to secure your grip on his arm when you gasp, flinching back to hit the chess table next to where he’s standing when you see Yori’s pale arm stretched out from beneath a mat. The deep crimson shade of blood had congealed on the marble, partially smudged by the mat above her weighing her corpse down. Deep inside you had hoped that at least the baby could be saved, by some miracle, but the damage is far too great. Accident or not, a police officer finding this scene would not consider a light sentence if you mother decided to confess.

The older woman’s jaw is clenched, no doubt suppressing the panic she too feels hammering inside her as you hang off of Jungkook arm, trembling still. She looks up to your boyfriend and finds herself jolting awake when his eyes are peering down at her. He looks kind, sympathetic, soft, as if he is still sitting across her on your couch, eager to prove that he can be the son-in-law she’s been looking for all along.

“You should head home for the night. I’ll handle the rest.”

She scratches at her bracelets, her nails tugging the gold free from her skin. “B-But…where are you taking her? Anyone will find it if she’s buried in the yard.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer the question.

“Please go home and make sure there are no witnesses. I know you didn’t inform anyone before coming here,” he turns his head towards the body, “so go home as if you were never here. I promise I’ll take care of it.”

It’s evident the older woman is relieved by the way her shoulders slump but her gaze is still firm as she measures her trust into the young man who is in full control of your heart. Your eyes are still on the body when your mother takes your hands in hers and gives a squeeze.

“Sweetheart…” she croaks. She knew she gave birth to such a dependable, obedient daughter. You’re every mother’s dream and she makes a mental note to come back to your apartment with more boxes of food and perhaps make amends. There are far too many misunderstandings and miscommunication; it’s no way for a mother and child to live.

However, when you rip your hands away and take Jungkook’s hand in yours, her face crumbles.

“I don’t ever want to see you again.” You hiss, your voice straining. You’ve never spoken to her like this and didn’t think about doing so until you saw the body, the mess your boyfriend has to clean. “You did this to us.”

“Wh-”

“Leave me alone. Please, mom. Get out of here, okay?” Your eyes glisten and you wipe away the droplets before they have the chance to fall. “It’s…we’re putting our lives on the line for you. It’s the least you can do now…so please…”

Between your pleas and Jungkook’s silence, your mother bites the inside of her cheek from saying anything more and turns back the way you came in. You watch her figure recede into the darkness, her shoes clacking softly on the cobblestone path. She turns back to look at you before the door closes and for once, you earn the most genuine apology you’ve ever received and this time she didn’t even need to open her mouth.

When the door falls back into place, Jungkook gives your shoulders a comforting rub and leads you towards the staircase, reminding you to breathe. He feels a bit more relieved that your mother didn’t raise too much of a ruckus. How could she when he’s the one getting his hands dirty? It’s what the perfect son-in-law will do and after this night is over, he’ll no longer have doubts about her approval. She wouldn’t have a valid argument anyway – not when he had just proved that he’s willing to go to the ends of Earth for your family and stability.

You’re too cute, Jungkook thinks, as you breathe through your nose and exhale through your lips. You’re a mirror image of his virgin self coated in blood, panicked but euphoric, angered but more than relieved to be rid of the parasites that kept him in the sewers.

“H-how are we going to do this?” You breathe, looking up the stairs as if you were expecting Namjoon to be standing there.

“I’ll handle the body. You can help me wipe down the stairs, okay?”

And handle it he did. He first fetched the supplies from the car, making sure once more that there are no witnesses while also keeping you within sight. Even without a severe puncture wound, Yori made quite a mess.

The terror didn’t come from seeing your former friend of years lay in a puddle of her own secretions. Nor did it come from seeing how calm and collected your boyfriend is peering down at the body with something akin to annoyance. No, terror came from how easily your mind and body adapted to helping Jungkook. You had no more tears left to shed when he lifted the mat from the body and placed a plastic covering next to her before rolling her body onto it. The sheet rustles beneath her weight and the stench of iron and urine fills your nostrils, prompting you to place your gloved hand over your nose.

Jungkook seems to know just what to do. He orders for you to wipe the railings first, which you do so with the slowness of a snail climbing a brick wall. The smell of bleach kept the nausea at bay and prompted you to focus on the smaller tasks because you can feel your heart already beginning to race with the sound of your boyfriend dragging Yori by the feet to straighten her posture. When you risked a glance back, you catch yourself feeling irked by the way Jungkook places her fingers so tenderly on her flattened stomach. Even when he’s wearing gloves, you catch yourself glaring at his touch on her skin, at the way his fingers brush over the ring on her finger. It makes you clench your jaw harder, pour more bleach onto the staircase, and wipe down each step with vigor.

She’s dead, she can’t take him from you.

You spray the bleach onto the top step, scrubbing with the heel of your palm as your shoulder fights through aches and pressure. You can do this. If Jungkook kept his promise, you must too. You will never find another man who will devote his entire life to you and for that you must not be too forgiving to those who don’t deserve your kindness, not this time.

All your life it’s one person after another coming to take what they want and leave. This is your lesson to finally take yourself back from them all, to come to terms with how much you gave and how little you received, see that Jungkook was the catalyst you desperately needed. It was no coincidence that when the elevator doors opened that very night of your wedding, he was the person standing in front of you. He was meant to be there holding your shoes as he rescues you away from those who would eventually suck the life out of you. He’s not someone you should be afraid of – no – because he’s your savior.

When you turn back again, Jungkook is slipping Yori’s legs into a large, black plastic bag identical to the one she’s laying on. He uses the bag beneath her to fight friction as he slides her body forward, careful not to bend her body before the duct tape comes into play.

And suddenly, your shoulder doesn’t ache anymore. Your heartbeat slows as you take another deep breath, this time through your lips, and watch his shoulders hunch over and forearm veins protrude.

“Kookie?”

He looks up, hair damp with sweat as it falls over his eyes. The lights from the front lawn, as it filter through dark maroon curtains, casts a red glow on your lover’s skin. When he meets your eyes he’s filled with glee, seeing that you’re no longer panicking and your eyes are clouded with a kind of protective apathy that lets him know you’ve gotten stronger. You’re dipping a toe into his world.

“Yes, noona?” He huffs, straightening his spine and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist.

“Nothing will happen to us after tonight…right?”

He physically melts at your saccharine voice. You’re worried about him, about whether he’ll still want you after this and if he’ll want you forever. “Of course not, noona. Are you feeling okay? Do you need to rest?” He asks if he hadn’t been the one packing the corpse into a bag.

You shake your head with a sniffle. “…I’m fine.” You’re not sure what to say, so you rub the cleaning cloth between your fingers and shy away from his eyes. “J just wanted to hear you say that.”

A smile spreads across his face, slow but bright as if he had just heard the most amazing thing. You can’t smile back and instead focus back on the floors and the last few inches of the railing.

You make sure to wipe the decorations nearby, in case your mother left any fingerprints on the lacquered surfaces. She can be rather careless in dire situations. You’re lifting yourself off the floor when something catches your eye: a large crib with layers and layers of blankets and fuzzy cloud and star plushies.

“What kind of bedtime stories should we tell our kids?”

Namjoon puts his head on your lap, sighing in relief when his neck is elevated at just the right position to depressurize the knot.

“What about myths? About the constellations and such.”

You giggle, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Isn’t that a little too mature for babies?”

When he doesn’t answer, you wave you hand in front of his eyes. He squints, chuckling. So this is what marriage life is going to be like – he can get used to it. “You’re right, that is a bit too much. Then…hm…they’ll learn about the types of clouds in the sky and we can go from there.”

“Joonie, I love you, but don’t come crying when our kids prefer mama’s stories over papa’s boring myths and random science facts.”

“We’ll see when we get to that point. Either way, you’re stuck with me.”

Asshole.

A fucking good-for-nothing lying asshole.

Gifting the same toys he promised to give to your future children to the same bitch who ruined your life, your family, and your sanity; they deserved each other, you think, and they both deserve to disappear as if they had never existed. The unborn baby inside Yori is innocent but a part of you is elated that he’ll never experience the kind of fatherhood he wanted. You silently wished Namjoon would tumble down the very same staircase you cleaned and joined Yori in a happy couple’s embrace to…

“Kookie?” You call out to your boyfriend who had duct taped the body in a semi-mummified state and used a shibari knot with his jute rope for easy carrying. He’d dragged the body next to the railing and leaned it against one of the stair planks in an upright position so that after he inspects the house for any evidence, he can bring the corpse easily over his shoulder.

“Yes, noona?”

“Where are we going to bury her?”

Jungkook wets his lips. He can’t possibly tell you the process of disposing a body or else you’ll surely fall back into panic so he gives you the simplest answer he can. “I’ll have to keep her body in the freezer in my studio. I’ll look for a place to burn it soon.”

You nod, swallowing as your throat tightens uncomfortably once more. The waves of anxiety come and goes. Jungkook knows how you’re feeling all too well and he wishes he could just hold you in your arms until tomorrow comes. Much to his distain, he knows you’re partly living your fantasy of making Yori pay for her involvement with Namjoon. You no longer love the man but anyone in your shoes wouldn’t deny there is a sense of satisfaction in seeking vengeance after a lifetime of humiliation that dampened your reputation in both your personal and professional sphere. Jungkook prays that getting rid of Yori will eliminate your mind of their presence although he highly doubts it; you’re not always rainbows and flowers. It’s only natural for you to be curious about taking another life when anger consumes logic. Most of these thoughts are fleeting ,which is why you had surprised Jungkook by your composure. He expected screaming at the very least but all you could do was cry.

He understands.

After he watched the life drain out of his parents, Taehyung had watched him cry for the longest time and when the next day came, it was like the world had turned its back while he washed the blood off his hands. The anxiety was terrible – at least for the first month or two – and then it was as if nothing had happened.

Like he learned before and like you’re learning now, it didn’t take much to get rid of a person. Over time, it just became muscle memory, kind of like making your morning coffee half-asleep. Now that you’ve gotten your first taste of the power, he wonders how you’ll cope. Will you fall into despair and regret it all in the morning? Will you be hungry for more? How will you return his most tiresome display of affection? These are questions he can’t answer. But what he does know is that you finally understand what love is in his world.

Love isn’t just about a ring on the finger or a baby in the crib. Love has to hurt. It has to infest your dreams and turn them into nightmares, wreak havoc on your heart, rip off the magnet in your moral compass. It’s why the human heart is caged behind ribs – it can hardly be tamed.

…

As the car lurches behind trees and between unpaved roads, Jungkook notifies your mother about what to do next. It would not raise suspicion for her to leave the country for a few weeks, especially since she had been traveling to speak to investors abroad. It would take some of the burden off his shoulders too; your mother is a cunning woman who fears losing money more than losing you so he had no trouble alluding to her demise if she disobeys. While you look away, he quickly sends a notification to Jimin to make sure the older man will take care of the rest. When he receives an immediate response back, his shoulders slump in relief and he pockets the phone back into his jeans.

When he takes your hand in his again, the other gripping the wheel, you give him the smallest of smiles through the silence.

Three is a crowd. The body folded and hidden in the rear space between his photography equipment makes your head turn every now and then to make sure it doesn’t escape somehow. You’re exhausted beyond belief but Jungkook is here, his palm over your hand on the shifting gear once more, to keep you grounded. The night feels like it might go on forever.

The streets pass by in a blur – nightlife still alive and pulsing with neon signs – and there’s a kind of peace enclosed in the car that you can’t find anywhere else. It’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook has always been and will always be there for you. Whether to take you from somewhere or bring you to some place, he’s the only person in your life left that you could depend on. As he expertly drives through tight alleyways where gas station surveillance cameras can’t reach him, you’re dozing off with your head against the window.  

“We’re almost there.” He says while running his thumb over your knuckles. There’s blood on his shirt and your neck but you’re too tired to care.

You awaken with a gasp when Jungkook swings the door open; he had been careful not to wake you but you feel enough residual adrenaline to jolt awake at the smallest of sounds. It takes a moment for you to recognize the inside of his garage, the bright LED lightbulb hanging above causing you to squint as your eyes adjust.

Unaware that you’re awake, Jungkook quickly moves to the rear of the car and swing Yori’s body over his shoulders, tightening the ropes around where her neck and feet are to secure his grip. He carries the wrapped body towards the door next to the shelves and kicks it open to reveal several more stocked shelves before coming to a halt at the buzzing freezer. With a free hand, he lifts the lid open and removes several bags of seafood and miscellaneous food items you can’t quite make out before rolling the body inside the interior. He places the bags on top of the body and latches the freezer shut, securing it with a combination lock from one of his bins.

When he steps back and shut the storage door before turning, he’s surprised to see you standing in the doorway, your hair a mess, his coat hanging loose off one shoulder.  

“Do you remember the night after you took my engagement photos? The ones at that same house?”

His brows scrunch slightly in confusion as he nods. There’s a noticeable flush on your cheeks as you breath in and out from your lips, a puff forming in the chill of the garage. You’re half-asleep, the exhaustion resting well deep in your bones but you can’t bring yourself to find your way towards his bed.

“I left my bedroom door open for you. I-I watched you from the balcony and waited for you to come back.”

Jungkook’s lips part, something foreign stirring in his stomach as the coat weighs down your shoulders and you don’t stop it from sliding down your arms, letting it pool around your feet. You don’t know why you wanted to confess but it felt right. It felt right to confess to something that isn’t about being an accessory in a crime.  

“Why didn’t you say anything, noona?”

You close the distance, putting both of your hands on his chest, over the blood stains on the university sweatshirt. He exhales loudly when you bring him down to your level by a tug of his collar, your lips just a mere centimeter apart.

“Because I wanted you then just as much as I want you now.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between your lips, slamming your body onto the car behind you as he brings one of your legs over his waist to press himself against your heat. Your fingers curl around the nape of his neck and he listens to your squeal as he lifts you fully off the ground and lets you wrap both your legs around him this time. You break the kiss and pepper sweet kisses over the mole on his neck and the smears of dried blood that caked onto his sweatshirt.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, moving your head to the other side of his neck to suckle on his warm skin and feel his pulse through the jugular.

Jungkook quickly throws open the door to the studio and steps into the darkness, his memory allowing him to lead you towards the bathroom without his eyes adjusting. Your eyes burn once more when he reaches behind you to shut the bathroom door close and turn on the yellowed lights with the back of his elbow. When your face comes into view, he sits you on the counter next to the sink and pushes his tongue back in your mouth, your name leaving his lips with a whimper.

He’s terribly hard against your thighs, his length straining through his jeans. You tug him forward by the belt as you break the kiss once more and let him rip open your blood and bleach-stained blouse.

“God, you’re so beautiful, noona. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

He moans as you press the heel of your feet up his erection, his voice muffled by skin filling his mouth as he takes the top your left breast spilling from the brassiere on his tongue. You arch to chase the heat of his tongue, back of your head leaning on the mirror behind.

“My good boy…such a good boy…”

The effect your praise has on him is immediate. Jungkook reaches behind his neck and pulls the sweatshirt over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. You watch him unbuckle and tug his belt free from the hoops before unclasping the front of his jeans. Impatient, he circles his arms around you to undo the brassiere, leaning down to kiss the indents on your skin as you slip your blouse off your shoulders and pull the straps down your arms. The coolness of the counter causes a hiss to leave your lips and Jungkook drinks in your state of orgasmic delirium like an aphrodisiac.

It’s a blessing for you to have worn a less difficult pair of pants to shimmy out of. With a short tug, Jungkook slides the waistband of your wool slacks and cotton panties down your ankles. When he pauses, chest rising and falling steadily, you follow his gaze to see a streak of blood in the middle of the light pink fabric.

In the time between your mother’s call and your boyfriend dumping your former best friend’s body in a freezer, your period makes an early appearance. The streak of blood is bright and vibrant, unlike Yori’s blood that oxidized into a deep maroon shade on his tanned skin. Jungkook tugs your pants down your ankles but takes your panties into one hand, his doe eyes coming to rest on the blood before something snaps within him.

He throws the fabric on the floor and hooks his arms beneath your shin, prompting you to gasp as he spreads your thighs apart. He stares down at your dark pubic hair before tracing two fingers up your slit and into the curls. His fingers reappear with your blood, seeping underneath his short nails and the crevices of his nailbed.

“Can I taste you, noona?” He breathes, chest rising and falling even faster. His cheeks are flaming red, the flush reaching his earlobes as his lips part for more air. He feels like he can’t breathe, seeing how beautiful, fertile, and red you are for him.

You’re hesitant, the blood reminding you of what you just done – what he just done – yet the burning in your belly proves that you want this just as much as he does. You barely had the chance to nod before Jungkook pushes his face into your pussy, his tongue lapping the blood on your vulva and clit as his nose buries in your trimmed curls. You taste metallic, as if he’s sucking on a penny, but it’s light and the syrupy texture allows him to take all of your juices in his mouth. When his tongue draws circles around your clit and he presses his lips around the nub like a suction, your fingers immediately grasp his hair from the roots, begging his tongue to fuck your weeping pussy.

Jungkook laps your folds like a starving puppy until you’re arching for him once more, thighs trapping his head where it belongs as your cum gushes out of you with traces with red. Between your blood and your juices, he can’t decide which one tastes better. The metallic tang disappears, leaving a fragrant aftertaste that he can only indulge when he inhales through his nose after swallowing what remains on his teeth. When your knees twitch, Jungkook pulls back to come up for air, watching your expression as your eyes fall to his wet crimson lips, the mess reaching his chin and jaw.

It takes a minute for you to gather yourself together and in your exhaustion a slow but soft smile reaches your lips.

“Does it taste good, baby?”

“Heavenly,” he whispers as he traps your body between his arms and gives you a taste, twisting his tongue deep inside your warm mouth. Your hands stroke the contours of his biceps and triceps, core aching as he groans when you lick your remainings from his chin.

You can tell he’s tired, having to do most of the manual labor. He winces as you knead his shoulders and it makes your chest ache. Even when he’s hurting, he takes care of you first. Your precious boy.

“Turn on the shower for me.”

Jungkook is aching to be inside you but he obeys, turning away to step inside the shower and twist the silver handle lodged into the tile. You stand behind him, moving away just slightly when the water – steadily turning hot – sprays over his hair and onto your breasts. Just as he’s about to turn around you circle your arms around his waist and reach into his jeans, palming his throbbing cock before pulling his jeans and briefs down his ankles. He steps out of the tight fabric, watching the remnants of Yori’s blood spiral down the drain as you kick the fabric in front of his toes.

The shower hose is harsh on his head but he can’t seem to pull away, one arm holding onto the wall for purchase, when you cushion your knees with his wet, blood-stained jeans. He can’t get any harder watching water drip from the ends of his hair down to your erect nipples, sliding down between the valley of your breasts and onto your soft stomach.

You’re delighted to see his cock twitch, taking your bottom lip under your teeth as you look up at him.

“You want mommy to take care of you, Kookie?”

He nods, exhaling as his abdomen clenches.

“You want to cum all over mommy’s tits, yeah? Make me proud?”

“Unng…” He moans in response, hips bucking forward to slide his leaking tip across your lips. He whimpers when you pull away, your smile twisting when his stomach clenches again.

You massage his firm thighs, gliding over every ripple of his muscles and over to the patch of pubic hair above his cock. When you pass your hands over his belly button, you stretch a palm up towards his face.

“Spit.”

The mole beneath his lips appear as he gathers as much saliva as he can produce on his tongue and spits into your palm. There are some traces of blood in your palm but you pay no attention to it as you place your saliva-coated palm over his cock and make a fist around the length.

“Mo-mmy,” he throws his head back, the shower head coming down his flushed pecs. Your fist begins to move slow but tight around his hardness. “It feels so good. Fuck…unng, mommy…please…”

Jungkook can cum just from your warm breath hitting his leaking tip but he doesn’t. When you lean forward and take his entire length in your mouth, tongue stretched as far as you can as you press your nose against his pubes, his jaw drops. You’re warm, wet, and fuck, so tight.

His other hand combs through your hair, reaching underneath the nape to pull your head back until your half-lidded eyes can watch his skin glisten.

With your hands back on his thighs, Jungkook expects you to move. What he doesn’t expect was you to tighten your throat before swallowing with his entire length in your mouth.

“Fuck!”

You gag around him but repeats, breathing through your nose before letting your whimpers and cries vibrate his cock. He’s about to lose it, his tightening grip causing your scalp to burn.

“You’re so pretty, mommy,” he pulls his length back just slightly to let you suction him back inside. When his entire length is warm and pulsing in the back of your throat, you swallow once more and begin moving up and down, your eyes closing as Jungkook backs your head to the tile and fucks your mouth at a steady pace.

“Wanna cum in your throat, all over you, inside you. God, you’re so perfect.” He chants, abdomen clenching when your throat tightens just right over his pink tip.

You hum, hands trailing behind his thighs and up to his firm cheeks to push him forward. His grip tightens once more when he whimpers your name, over and over again, his cock driving into your mouth with a vigor that’s bound to leave your throat sore in the morning.

The first spurt of his warm cum hits your uvula and you cough just as he slides out of your mouth and pumps himself into his fist. Watching his creamy cum dripping down the corner of his mouth intensifies his high, prompting him to burst onto your shoulder blades and over your wet breasts. He doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath before he pushes you down onto the tile, moving away the wet jeans to a corner before finding safety between your legs. His arms, on either side of your head, allows him to prop himself up to lead his tip towards your entrance.

He’d forgotten all about cleaning the blood on your neck when you’re spread for him, your hands cupping his face in admiration. Your eyes and nose are still puffy and red, but he knows the blush on your cheeks come from your need to have him deep inside until you can feel him against your cervix.

“I love you, noona. So, so much.”

You hiss slightly when he pushes inside, your snug velvet walls engulfing his cock and keeping him where he belongs. His body bows in servitude to the goddess that is you.

“I love you too,” you huff, brushing your fingers over his sculped cheekbones and mandible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You let him take you there despite how painful it was to bear him pounding into your walls with the intent to ruin. You’re not sure how long you lay on the tile, how many times he came inside, how sore and painful your insides will be when he’s done. It was never-ending – how Jungkook muffles your wails and whines, how he pumps his cocks while pressing your shoulders down to bury himself deep, how exhausted you are by the time he’s pushing his cum back into your swollen hole. The last orgasm triggers tears to seep from the corner of his eyes which Jungkook kisses away as he reaches up to the shower cloth and waits for you to fall limp before running the soapy cloth along your body.

You’re freezing cold despite the hot water still coming down onto your boyfriend’s body and, from there, onto you. He’s quick to clean you up and wrap you in the same towel he had laid over you the first time you used his studio shower. You can barely move as he carries you to the bed and lays your damp body on the fresh linen. You can hear the sound of him ripping open a thin menstrual pad and placing it in a pair of fresh panties he fished from the shared armoire closet. He slips the panties up your legs, lifting your hips to pull the fabric over your buttocks, flashing his usual charming grin when you murmur a thank you.

He pulls the towel from your body and squeeze out as much water as he can from your long tresses, careful not to tug. It wasn’t ideal to him that you’ll be sleeping with wet hair but you’re beyond exhausted and, to be frank, he is as well. At least he’s heading to bed satiated.

Jungkook slides under the blankets and brings your body closer by your waist. He groans into your neck, his body immediately softening as the warmth of your skin and the blanket brings him the peace and comfort he craved.

“Kookie?”

“Hm?”

It takes a heartbeat for him to sense your sudden anxiety. “…I’m scared.”

“Why are you scared?” He manages to ask although sleep is weighing heavy on his eyelids.

“I don’t know.” You murmur.

Jungkook is too tired to remember if you said anything afterwards for he falls deep into slumber. As for you, your head won’t let you sleep despite your body pleading for rest. Every part of you can feel Yori’s heavy body in the freezer just several feet away. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to feel about tonight or if tonight should have happened in the first place but in Jungkook’s arms, you can’t find the smallest ounce of pity for the woman.

You close your eyes, snuggle closer into his firm chest, and try your best to pretend nothing will change. You try to forget the flash drive sitting in your bag, the possible evidence your mother may have left behind in the villa, the corpse in the garage. Most of all, you try to forget how Jungkook looked at the bottom of the staircase, slipping the corpse inside the black plastic trash bag with such ease that makes you wonder if he had done this before. He surely must have, that voice inside of your head says but you wave it away.

I don’t know.

You lied to him. For the first time in your relationship, you lied without guilt. You do know why you’re scared and it’s not because after tonight every knock on the door will cause your heart to pound.

No. It’s because you know your boyfriend – your sweet, loving boyfriend who cries watching romantic comedies on Sundays – is truly capable of murder.

[spice-chan]

Massage me down there

 husband!yandere!bakugou x reader

 When your husband gets upset at the lack of attention you were giving him, you make it up to him by giving him the best massage of his life. 

wordcount- 5 k 

warnings : sub baku, slightly yandere tendencies, yandere baku ( its all fluffy af tho), nsfw, blowjob, eating out, sex. 

for mature viewers only. 

first smut so pls be gentle. tumblr was such a bitch and wouldn't let me post this but here we are. 

…...…......………...…...….

Bakugou walked in, his muscles and arms aching from a long day of hero work. He twisted the key and turned the doorknob, opening the door to be assaulted by the familiar warm scent of home.

You used some air fresheners that made sure the house always smelt welcoming pleasant. He wasn’t sure what scent, but he knows the smell well enough.

He took his shoes off, irked that you didn’t come to welcome him like you usually would.  His bad mood seeped out into his face, translating into a well known scowl on his handsome features. 

A tick appeared on his forehead when he heard the tv.

‘What the fuck, or who the fuck, had your attention?’

He took his shoes off and changed out of his hero suit, putting his gauntlets aside and somewhere safe. He doesn’t want those near you.

He showered quickly and wore some shorts, leaving his hair to air dry opting to go shirtless, leaving his toned and muscled packs out on display. He was still warm from his shower, and his flushed and damp appearance was sure to re-catch your attention.

He left the shared room and walked into the leaving room, nearly steaming again when he wasn’t acknowledged and looking into the TV, expecting something equally infuriating, but only finding some furry movie. He tsk, although relieved it wasn’t some pesky actor stealing your attention.

He took in your appearance, finding that you looked gorgeous in some oversized shirt of his and some baggy, grey shorts, which left most of your legs teasingly out. He would have jumped you, but quickly remembered why he couldn’t to begin with.

You looked so sweet sitting there in some oversized shirt watching a cartoon movie tho-

No. He was mad at you.

He flopped down on the couch, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at you grumpily. You jumped up in surprise the moment the couch dipped, looking next to you frantically only to see your husband sitting at the opposite end of the couch.

Your face brightened into a happy smile, quickly sliding to him and enveloping his steam warm body in a hug. You slid on his lap, trying to kiss him on the lips, which failed when he turned his head, ending up as a mere peck.

You frowned at that, but it hurt Katsuki more than it hurt you. His heart felt heavy, having to reject one of your kisses, but it was for the better good.

You put your head on his chest, appreciatiating the firm and sculpted feel of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you got home ? I didn’t hear you at all !” You exclaimed with a frown. Sad at missing your opportunity of kissing him at the door like your ritual usually went. Is that why he seemed to be in a mood ?

Bakugo scoffed, resisting the urge to put his hands on you.” You would’ve if you weren’t so distracted with some-some furry movie !” He yelled way to loudly, but you knew he wasn’t really angry, at least not mad angry. He’s just sulking. You didn’t know, but when you didn’t even acknowledge him slightly while he got home and showered some spark of possessiveness went off. The familiar feeling of being threatened wasn’t that far after all.

But the sound of the main character interacting with the fox made your ears perk. Since Katsuki is upset right now, he can wait a bit more.

You easily escaped his grasp since Bakugo opted to not touch you.

You settled near him, not as far, but not as close as before. Bakugo felt your warmth leave, and it felt like the heat from his very own body was sapped.

His grumpy pout turned to a sad, dejected one, and his eyes slowly lost his hardness as he looked at your distracted form beside him.

Anger slowly started brewing inside him again, tears springing to the corner of his eyes due to the overwhelming rage brewing in his chest.

‘How dare you ignore him like this ? Especially when he was upset at you. If you were upset at him Bakugo would coddle you until you relented. Fine, ignore him.’

Your attention snapped when you felt Katsuki get up from the couch, watching his figure stomp away to the room. You cringed when you heard the door bang.

You saw the movie had a few minutes left, and debated whether you should go to Katsuki or finish it first. This might take a while, so movie first it is.

Right as the movie was about to finish, you heated up some oils, having thought of the perfect bribery plan. Bakugou hates it when you don’t pay attention to him or dismiss him, and you wouldn’t have, but the movie was so engaging and you wanted to watch it for a long time !

You quickly put the oils in a tray and carried it back to your room. You balanced the tray in one hand while your other turned the doorknob, walking inside the bedroom to find Katsuki laying on his side on the bed on his belly.

You walked to him, putting the oils on the running heater one by one to make sure they remain warm to ensure Katsuki can enjoy this as much as possible.

Katsuki looked up slowly, not wanting to show his interest in what you brought with you, but intrigue got the best of him when he smelt natural scents near him. He quickly turned his face away when he saw you walk to him. You crouched down besides him, making him smell your perfume, and want to look at your adorable face, grab -

“Suki, you’re mad at me right ?” You asked softly, trying to set the mood while your hand tangled in his untamable spikes.

Katsuki wanted to shout, to push your hand away and melt in his own pettiness, but he couldn’t help the tiny rush of ecstasy as your small hand slowly caressed his roots, the true euphoria being that you came to make up with him. You must love him after all then ?

“Tsk, go back to your shitty movie.” He grumbled, his lips set in a pout as he lifted his face to glare at you.

You tried kissing him before he turned around again, but he predicted her actions and turned around before the kiss reached it’s destination. He quickly regretted his decision becasue after you ended up kissing his cheek again, he really craved to have your luscious lips make contact with his…

He must stay strong. He already saw the oils, and had a half mind to reject your offer, but he was scared you really will take his word for it.

“What’s with the oils ?” He questioned gruffly, slightly muffled by the pillows.

You beamed, ripping the blanket off his body, which he seemed to cocoon himself in, and made yourself comfortable beside him.

“I’m giving you a full body massage, head to toe ! My hero must be sore from working hard all day.” You said adoringly, despite Bakugo thinking he’s the coddler in the relationship, you loved doting on him too, and bought all of this to use on him.

Katsuki was going to make some snarky remark, but your soothing hands on his scalp made him clamp shut. Your rhythmic motions and soft touches made Bakugou sigh, her fingers playing with his hair gently with the room dimly lit made him relax and his heart beat slowed as his eyelids drooped in lethargy. Your fingers didn’t leave one root on his head untouched. You grinned in victory seeing your adorable husband about to fall asleep and you barely even started.

The true comfort to Katsuki came in knowing that Bakugou had your full attention. But his half lidded eyes sprung open when he felt your hands leave his spiky blond hair. He was about to grab your hand to pull you back to him when he noticed you walk towards the oils, grabbing them and placing them on the lamp stand besides the bed so you can easily reach them without moving.

You settled yourself back on the bed, this time on Katsuki’s toned and perky ass.

Bakugo blushed, never too used to you being like this with him despite you guys being married and all that, it still feels as if you guys never even held hands before. At least to him. 

You reached out, grabbing one of the oils and pouring a generous amount on your palms, then rubbing them together. You put your hands on his shoulders and started to gently work on the knots, and Katsuki swears heaven is in your hands. He feels the heavy weight that every hero carries slowly melt away, the tenseness slowly dissipating as your hands continued massaging with the aid of the oil.

“How does it feel ?” You asked in a low, whispering voice. Katsuki could’ve missed it had it not being your voice.

He grunted, and you took it as a good enough response to keep working as you had been. Katsuki was so relaxed, he was becoming sleepy with the aid of the ambient light of the lamp, and your soothing touches stimulating his tactile senses. The only comforting touch he felt all day.

You felt that his shoulders were mellow enough, deciding to move on to his back. You grabbed another oil and spread a more generous amount this time, rubbing it between your palms. The warmth must’ve been really pleasant on his exhausted body, because his breath hitched not a second after your hands made contact with his back. You’re honestly a novice at this, having watched a few seconds of a massage video then gave up a few seconds in, but you guessed you were doing something right if the hitches of his breath were any proof.

You continued kneading at his back, admiring the scrumptious view of his muscular back beneath your fingers. Katsuki was lucky his face was not in your direction, or you would have seen the redness of his cheeks and ears, and the suggestive nature of his open mouth, which let out inaudible sounds every time you worked out a knot. His eyes were lidded, brighter than usual that the volcanic red of his eyes looked like harmless cherries.

Embarrassingly though, every knead you made caused his body to experience a sort of relaxed pleasure, the feel of your soft hands gently caressing his skin is bringing back memories……

He would never allow anyone else but you to touch him like this, just like he wouldn’t allow you to touch anyone else like that, or touch period. Just the thought made his brows furrow in annoyance until a moan came out when you touched a particularly sore spot. You paused for a second, having not expected that reaction. You went back to the same spot and got rewarded when his breath hitched.

Eventually, his back went like it was made anew, and you probably shared the sentiment because you whispered in his ear to turn around, afraid of disturbing him as he remained silent for so long. He could have fallen asleep, and he might’ve, your relaxing touch and dim lights where really helping.

However, he wanted more of this, so he pushed the drowsiness away and turned around for you. He thought you would wrap it up after doing his back, shoulders, and even his head, but was pleasantly surprised. That’s his darling, always going the extra mile for him. Little things like that remind him exactly why he adores you.

To be fair, he stopped being mad five minutes into the massage, if, however, it still gets you to dot on him then he will keep his mouth shut, but he still appreciates that you are doing this for him, considering how much carrying gauntlets and heroing all day tires him.

After choosing the oil, Bakugou half thought that you were going to resume your previous seating place, this time on his crotch. He was pleasantly surprised to be right. Katsuki blushed and turned around, huffing, knowing you can feel his semi erection. By the smirk you shot him, you were very aware.

Katsuki held his breath in, knowing the slightest movement of your hips will cause him to let out a titillating sound.

“Where do you think you’re sitting dumbass ?” He groaned out. You quirked an eyebrow, smirking downright sinfully.

“Your body doesn’t seem to have a problem with it.” You observed.

Halfway into worshipping the firm dips of his pectorals, you paused your ministrations, drawing the- once again- attention of a drowsy Katsuki.

You fanned yourself, and much to your husbands chagrin, took the oversized shirt off. Leaving you in your pretty, black  bralette which emphasized your bust. Katsuki gulped.

After catching Katsuki’s wondering eyes, you shot him a flirty smile. Your hands resumed their ministrations, but slowly traveled up to Katsuki’s chest, kneading at first, but then seized all movements, only to start softly caressing his milky neck.

You slowly lowered you upper body, making contact with Katsuki’s oiled front. He couldn’t keep his wondering eyes from admiring the exposed cleavage teasing his vision. You caught his stare, and leisurely unhooked it, sliding the straps off, one, and then the other, shrugging it off completely, making your soft tits touch his stomach. His hands itched to grab them, but your own left his neck and held his hands in place over his head. You moved until your mouth was near his ears, the movement reminded Bakugo of the slithering of a graceful and dangerous viper.

“Did you enjoy that baby ?” You whispered, voice no louder or lower than the one you used throughout the whole session, but somehow, with your soft chest touching his, hands holding his own in place and voice whispering in his ear, Katsuki’s blood rushed south.

He swallowed, having a theory that the blood in his brain must have gone down, because he felt way dumber than usual.

He nodded his head.

“Are you still mad at me honey ?” Whispered your honeyed voice.

“No.” Replied Katsuki, taking his upper lip between his teeth in frustration at the affect you have on him.

His cheeks flushed even more when you started nibbling at his earlobe, the sound way too close to his hearing range for comfort.

He really resembled that love sick look.

“Will you let me kiss you now Suki ?” You asked your final question, hands leaving his, granting him leeway to explore and move them as he pleases while your hands found their way back to his hair. Katsuki answered your question by pulling you closer and softly kissing your lips, his desires having finally been answered. He kept the kiss from getting aggressive, not wanting to destroy the mood, but the tantalising kiss was quickly becoming not enough. He desired all of you, he wanted your thoughts to be wholeheartedly consumed by him. His beefy hand tangled itself in your hair, biting your bottom lip and sucking it in order to deepen your kiss, but you had other ideas.

“Suki, can you put your tongue out for me ?” You asked innocently, Katsuki hesitated for a moment, confused as you’d never made a request like that before. He slowly stuck his pink muscle out.

You wasted no time, gently sucking it, grazing it with your teeth to add a bit of stimulation.

You didn’t prolong his pleasure however.

“I still have to finish your massage, sweetie. Lay back down and relax.” You whispered in a doting tone, gently pushing his chest flat into the bed. Katsuki widened his eyes, unable to believe you’d do that to him.

You’re really going to do this to him ? While you were shirtless too ?

His cock pulsated painfully, his hardness left untouched. You moved on to his arms, paying special attention to his aching wrists. This would have the epitome of comfort had he not had an erection, with you shirtless, nipples out and daring him to pinch, your hands softly oiling his body and rejuvinating him. He thanks his overwhelming self control, overwhelming though it may be, the impenetrable iron clad self control crumples and mellows like marshmallow around you.

To his dismay, yet utter relief, you took your time, knowing his hands are crucial for his quirk. After finishing up with his arm, you took his hand, his large, beefy one dwarfing your own. Jesus, even his fingers were thick.

You brought his hand closer to your mouth, and Katsuki thought you were going to take a finger in your mouth. Instead, you gave the webbed area at the base of his finger a tentative lick. Knowing this is the most sensitive part of his calloused hand. His erection strained against his shorts with renewed vigour. He bit his lip in order to follow your command and stay laid back, but God knows he wanted to push you back and ram into you. He felt more than saw when your naughty tongue stopped licking that area and traveled up to suck the tip of his finger. You licked it slowly, then took it in your mouth, sucking on it like you would something else.

Katsuki squeezed his thighs together desperately, unable to handle not getting friction. His other hand went palm his hard on, but you slapped that hand when it twitched to move, knowing you won’t like its destination. You bit his finger in a silent warning. Katsuki knew he couldn’t disobey a request of yours, no matter how hard or simple, so he fisted his hand to maintain his sanity while you deepthroated his finger. Braless.

You took his finger out of your mouth. It was slicken and glistening. Katsuki’s boxers were dampened.

Katsuki starred in utter horror as you moved on to the other arm, and nearly growled in frustration.

He couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Stop teasing me !” He shouted, the loudest noise that had been made since you entered the room.

You looked at him, mock obliviousness on your face.

You begun to massage the new arm, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Teasing you ? What are you talking about Suki ? I’m just trying to make you feel good.” You justified.

“Baka, massage me where I really want to be massaged.” He demanded. You put a finger on his lip. “Suki, don’t talk that loudly, you’ll destroy the mood. And tell me where you want me to massage honey, use your words. This is all about you remember?” You guessed it’s been enough teasing. Halfway through, you noticed the impending arousal Katsuki was experiencing, and decided this could take a turn in the other direction. He looked at you in hope, but clamped his mouth shut when he realized he’d have to ask you it.

“You know… baka.” He answered childishly, looking away.

“Of course, your arms really hurt don't they ? No worries.” You whispered, already grabbing the oils before Katsuki’s frustrated voice rung out.

“Please no, touch me… down there. Right now. You knew there would be consequences to touching me like that and looking like this” He finally relented. You o’d, nodding and caressing his hair, silently proud at him for saying what he really wanted. You relishes in the embarrassment blooming on his face, an adorable cherry red.

“Haha, you should have just said so from the start.” You scolded.

“I’ll start by massaging your legs then.”

Katsuki nearly growled in frustration. You weren’t going to do this to him right. You read that look on his face.

“Is that not what you want ? You said down there.”

He sucked in a breath. He gripped the sheets beneath his hand so tightly, his knuckles tirned white.

“Fine ! You want me to say it, I will. Massage…my cock. Spread oils all over it and touch it with your pretty hands and suck it like you did to my finger.” He retold all his fantasies, baring his soul out into the open. He craves you all the time, you just made his craving so much worse. Depriving him of your attention, then suddenly giving him an abundance of it but not giving him what he truly wants .

His heart fell when he saw the troubled look on your face. “Suki, you have to be patient. Then I promise you’ll get what you want.” Although you put up a front, you were aching for him, your underwear was damp no doubt.

You stood up, ignoring the frustrated look on his face. he is going to be patient  because you knew he wouldn’t ignore something you said. He never does, especially when he’s in this headspace. You took the blanket off his lower body. You slowly pulled his shorts off, amused by the wet patch you saw. Now his perky ass was clad in only some black boxer. You could see the straining erection, his underwear struggling to contain it, already dampened with the evidence of his arousal.

You debated for only a second.

You grabbed the waistband, Katsuki understanding the hint and lifting himself up slightly so you could take the material off. His enormous cock sprung out, the head an angry purple colour from the lack of attention. It was thick and girthy, and the length was nothing to laugh about either. It was a bit like Katsuki to be honest. Muscular and enormous. You loved how his masculine and sculpted figure fit in yours. It felt like he could protect you from the world.

You grabbed an oil, rubbing it in your palms before you began rubbing it on his thighs. Not before pressing a soft kiss on them and taking an adorable little bite. You massaged them both, careful not to touch where Katsuki desperately wanted you to touch. “Be patient Katsuki” you reminded him as you continued kneading his sculpted cream coloured thighs. Sometimes you’d get dangerously close to his centre, but not quite enough that Katsuki could experience the blessing of your touch. Enough was enough, however.

Katsuki breathed a sigh of relief when you stopped.

Katsuki’s body felt renewed, all his knots having been achingly soothed, his body smelt of fresh herbs and oils that left him smelling amazing, but the only oil he really craved was out of his reach at the moment. Not for long though.

You stood up from the bed and headed to one of your cupboards, already knowing none of those oils were tailored for that kind of use.

You went through the impressive amounts of flavoured lubes, then deciding on a water based watermelon one. Choosing was a struggle, knowing that your husband only bought you the best of the best.

You returned to an unmoved Katsuki, waving the lube at him in a goofy way. Shit, you were perfect, Katsuki will kill anyone that says you like this. Goods jiggling freely and showing the lube you were going to taste while sucking his cock.

You sat on the bed, spreading his legs to allow you to comfortably settle between them.

Fuck yes. Yes. Yes . “Yes”.

You took your own shorts off, leaving you in a delicious orange thong that did nothing to cover your delectable ass. The only thing keeping you from becoming fully naked.

You applied the lube on your hands, careful from putting too much.

Katsuki groaned audibly when your hands touched his cock, rubbing the tip, which was a painful purple colour, and then dipping your hands down. You pumped him, making sure not to go too fast, and applying special attention to all his sensitive spots. You squeezed his balls gently, then licked his tip, using the soft lower part of your tongue to stimulate him, then suddenly switching to the rougher part.

“Ah- ah- baby, where did you - you learn to do that ?!” Katsuki knew he wasn’t going to last long with your body out on display to him, and your mouth softly teasing him. You opened your mouth, taking him in one inch at a time. You hollow your cheeks, hearing a broken moan from Katsuki, followed by a groan as you bobbed your head up and down. You kept using your tongue and hands, not leaving any part of him untouched.

Katsuki felt like he was in heaven. Your naughty tongue did wonders on all his sensitive spots, humming every now and then, you must have liked the taste. You bobbed your head faster, Katsuki had to contain himself from face fucking you without care. Drool dripped down your chin and your hair was a mess, fuck, you were absolutely gorgeous.

The final push was seeing one of your hands leave his cock make its way to your underwear, sliding the pesky things down slowly, giving Katsuki a show. You were absolutely drenched.

You moaned around his length as you started to work on your clit. Then your fingers slipped inside you seamlessly,making erotic squelching sounds that he knows all too well and next thing Katsuki was crying out.

“Fuck, princess- I’m coming- ah, coming.” You bobbed your head with new found vigour, sucking and squeezing even when you felt his warm cream gush into your mouth.

“Teddy bear —“ he groaned, stopping mid sentence to let out the loudest moan moan you ever heard, with flushed cheeks, mouth ajar and watery cherry eyes. Henever took his eyes off you, drinking in the sight of you enthusiastically drinking his cum, not wanting to waste a single drop. You kept going, even when your eyes watered and your throat burned. You put both hands on his thighs to steady yourself, keeping your working mouth on his cock as you drank and drank. After it seemed like that was all, you took your mouth off and started giving licks all over his painfully sensitive cock, cleaning it of any remains. He tried complaining but you didn’t stop until the last drop was licked.

“How was that massage baby ?”

Katsuki was too busy catching breath to answer, but maybe that was all the answer you needed.

He wants to please you now, to satisfy you like you satisfied him.

One look at your naked body had his now flaccid cock springing back to life.

“I loved it babe, but now it’s your turn, c’mere.” He sprung up, grasping your legs and spreading them apart. He saw your thong between your knees, slipping it out slowly while laughing.

“Why wear this ? You might as well have been wearing nothing.” He mused, looking at the tiny orange thong.

“I wanted to seduce you, Suki.”

That made him ‘ah’, as he nodded amusedly. He threw it somewhere in the room, immensely glad that you wore it for him, for him, only him.

His tongue grazed your slit, not entering you. He wrapped his mouth around your clit and sucked. You fisted the sheets as the breath got knocked out of you. He ate you out vigorously,not giving you a moment to breath. His fingers rubbed your slit, teasing you while his mouth devoured you. Suddenly, his mouth traveled down to your slit, and his fingers went to rub your clit. He lapped up at the wetness, loving the taste of you. His hand left you to grab your leg and put it over his muscled shoulder for better access.

He met your eyes, giving you an arrogant smirk as his tongue teased you relentlessly, traveling up and down, circling your clit, but never quite wrapping around it and sucking like before.

“Suki, please, make me feel good.” You begged with tears in your eyes. Even though Katsuki wanted to tease you more, he couldn’t.

In no time, your thighs were shaking as the knot in your belly was threatening to burst.

“Stop” that one sentence had Katsuki detaching from your clit, looking troubled. A familiar insecure look.

Did he fail to make you feel good ? What did he do wrong ?

“What ?” He asked, wiping your love juices off his chin.

“I want to do it together this time Suki. It was too good, I couldn’t have lasted anymore if I didn’t stop you when I did.” You reassured him, watching the insecure look on his face vanish. Before, when you and Katsuki were merely dating, you were surprised by the way he behaved around you, but now, you were used to it- dare you say, you loved the way he values your words and attention. He made you feel like a queen, even though others would claim that time of love is overwhelming and suffocating.

He cradled you gently, kissing your head. What an adorable request, well, he couldn’t disappoint you now could he ?

He laid your head on the pillow, putting both of your legs over his shoulders letting you give his semi hardened length a few pumps. You were both lubed and ready enough, but Katsuki still took his time in entering you, not wanting to hurt you, he knew he wasn’t small by any means, not even close.

He loved positions like this, where he could look at your face and see how you were feeling. He was fully in you, and he could see that it wasn’t the most comfortable thing for you, so his thrusts were gentle at first. Soon, after he heard you become breathless and clenching around him, he started to become rougher, slamming into your G-spot.

You were so warm, and tight….

He pistoned into your welcoming honeypot. “Does it -ah—feel good ?” He asked, slowing down slightly so you could answer him.

“Yes Suki, don’t slow down ! Please rub my clit” you said guiding his hand where you wanted it and he obliged. He kept thrusting at his usual fast pace, your tits vibrate with every thrust, prompting him to finally pinch one. He rubbed your clit too, feeling you clench around him.

This is where he wanted to be all day, connected with his darling, making the both of you feel good.

He angled his thrusts to hit your G-spot, making your pleasure overwhelming, which naturally translated to his. His muscles contorted as he gave one final, powerful thrust, coming undone inside your warm centre. He kept stimulating you, and it didn’t take you long to join him in bless, milking him as you let out a sinful moan, pulling him closer to you, seeking his warmth amids being in the clouds. He kept riding you through your orgasm, eventually his thrusts becoming nothing more than shallow.

He felt satisfied beyond measure, slowly taking his cock out and seeing his semen leak. Be bent down, kissing you gently on the lips. “Did it feel good?” He asked, wanting reassurance that he did well. He did this every time despite it being more than obvious he did amazing.

“Amazing, did you like your massage though?” You questioned, making him scoff at your idiotic question.

“Damn right, best massage ever.”

He then cleaned you up, then with your bare bodies cuddling, you fell in deep sleep.

“I love you.” He whispered to your snoozing head on his naked chest.

“More than anything.” 

……….

Kofi