#van build journey

[burning-beneath]

The Battle of Building a Dream

“It’s hard to stay focused on the task at hand.”That sentence sums up the battle I’ve been facing daily. My mind doesn’t walk—it races. It jumps ahead to the next phase of the project before I’ve even completed the one in front of me. One moment I’m planning the immediate step, and the next, I’m off thinking about alternative approaches, better strategies, ways to make it more effective, more…

[ludinusdaleth]

not a new statement from me by any means but traveling through my home the south and seeing country folk tend to the earth & their animals, and city folk blast music as they dance with joy of heritage or identity, all of us just trying to get by.... it makes those statements folk make about how we "deserve what we vote" hurt worse. people who say that have no idea the life & love down here even when we know our government will ensure we arent forever.

[natsaffection]

This idea just popped into my head😭 What if the team and reader are all in a roadtrip in a van, small van at that. Meaning some of the members had to sit on eachothers laps, leaving reader to sit on G!P Natasha’s. Everyone amongst the team noticed the tension between reader and G!PNatasha that had been brewing.And the car ride just leads to Natasha secretly stuffing her cock into reader, and just letting the bumps of the van help bounce reader on her dick unbeknownst to the team.

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, cock-warming, overstimulating, multiple orgasm

Word Count: 1,4K

A/N: first..HOW do yall have such great ideas?? And second..for my daily education stuff: Do you know, that if you have to be silence, the pleasure and orgasm is more intense?🧍🏻‍♀️ Good night. 🫳🏻🎤

The sun had just started to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the countryside as the Avengers’ van cruised down the open highway. It was a rare occasion for the team to take a break from saving the world and enjoy a road trip together. The van was small, too small for a team of superheroes, but that was part of the charm of the journey. It forced them to get closer, both physically and emotionally.

You found yourself sitting on Natashas lap, a situation that had your heart racing and your cheeks flushing. The van was packed tight, with Tony and Steve up front, Bruce and Clint squeezed into the middle, and Vision and Wanda sharing the backseat with you and Natasha. The closeness was unavoidable, but it was the subtle tension between you and Natasha that had you on edge.

Natasha’s hands rested casually on your hips, but there was nothing casual about the way her fingers would occasionally tighten, sending shivers down your spine. The others seemed oblivious, chatting and laughing about old missions and plans for the weekend. But you could feel the heat of Natasha’s gaze, the way her breath would hitch every time the van hit a bump.

“Comfortable?” Natasha’s voice was low, almost a purr, right next to your ear. You nodded, not trusting your voice. You felt a soft, yet firm pressure as Natasha shifted slightly beneath you, making you hyper-aware of every point of contact between you.

“I think so..” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just relax,” Natasha murmured, her breath hot against your ear. “I’ve got you.”

The van hit another bump, and your breath caught as you felt Natasha’s cock, hard and insistent, pressing against you. You bit your lip, trying to stay composed, but Natasha’s hands held you steady, guiding you just enough to increase the delicious friction.

“Natasha, what are you…?” you began, your voice trailing off as another jolt from the van made you gasp. “Shh,” Natasha whispered, her hands sliding under your shirt to caress your bare skin. “Just go with it.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t deny the thrill of the situation. Natasha’s subtle movements, the way she would flex her hips just so, using the motion of the van to her advantage, was driving you wild. Each bump pushed you down further onto Natasha’s cock, the pleasure building steadily, almost unbearably.

“You’re doing great,” Natasha said softly, her voice a soothing contrast to the intensity of her actions. “Just let the van do the work.” Steve glanced back, a hint of concern in his voice. “You okay back there?”

“Yeah, just fine.” Natasha replied smoothly, her voice betraying none of the heat that was coursing between you. You managed a nod, grateful for Natasha’s calm. “Natasha,” you gasped, struggling to keep your voice low. “S-Someone will notice..”

“No, they won’t,” Natasha reassured you, her lips brushing your ear. “Just trust me. Enjoy it.” You could feel Natasha’s breath against your neck, her lips brushing the sensitive skin there as she whispered, “You’re so tight, I can feel you squeezing me.”

Natasha’s hand slid up your body, slipping under your shirt and cupping your breast. She squeezed, her thumb brushing over your nipple, making you gasp.

With a final, jarring bump, you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped you, muffled by the sound of the van’s tires on the gravel road. Natasha’s grip tightened, holding you in place as the pleasure finally crested, leaving you shuddering in the redhead’s lap.

But Natasha didn’t stop. She continued to move, her cock buried deep inside you, prolonging your orgasm. “That’s it,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding. “Come for me. Show me how much you love this.”

Your body convulsed with the intensity of your climax, your breath coming in ragged gasps. “N-Natasha, please,” you whimpered, feeling overwhelmed.

“Please what?” Natasha asked, her tone mocking. “You just have to let go.” You tried to shift, to pull away slightly, but Natasha’s strong hands held you in place. “No, you don’t,” Natasha growled softly. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Natash- f-fuck..” you moaned, your voice desperate. You glanced around nervously, noticing Wanda’s eyes on you for a brief moment before looking away.

“You better be quiet,” Natasha replied, a cruel smile playing on her lips. She grabbed your wrists, pulling them forward and placing them on the table in front of you. “Keep them there.” she commanded.

And you came. Your body was trembling, the overstimulation making already your head spin. You tried to focus on keeping your hands on the table, your knuckles white from gripping the edge. Steve glanced back again, his eyes narrowing in concern. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

Natasha seized the opportunity, wrapping her arms around you in a mock embrace. “She’s fine, Steve. Just a little tired, right?” Natasha said, her voice sweet yet deceptive. She leaned in closer to you, whispering in your ear, “Don’t move.”

In that moment, Natasha thrust her hips forward sharply, pushing her cock deeper into you. Your eyes widened, your breath hitching as you struggled to maintain your composure. Natasha’s arms tightened around you, ostensibly in a comforting hug, but in reality, it was to hold you steady. “Y-Yes!” you managed to say, your voice shaky. “Long d-day..”

Steve nodded slowly, his concern easing. “Alright, just let us know if you need anything.” Natasha smirked, her lips brushing your ear. “See? No one suspects a thing,” she whispered. “Now, focus on me.”

You tried to focus on keeping your hands on the table, your knuckles white from gripping the edge. “You’re doing so well,” Natasha praised, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Taking me so perfectly.”

The van hit another bump, and this time, Natasha’s breath caught sharply. Her fingers dug into your hips as she felt a wave of pleasure surge through her. “Fuck,” she hissed, her voice strained. “I’m close.”

The realization that Natasha was as affected as you were sent a new thrill through your body. Natasha’s hips snapped up, thrusting deep into you, and you felt another wave of pleasure crashing over you. “Again,” Natasha demanded, her grip on your hips bruising. “I want you to come again.”

“I can’t,” you whimpered, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the intensity. “Yes, you can,” Natasha insisted, her voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re going to come again, and you’re going to do it for me.”

Your body obeyed, your second orgasm hitting you even harder than the first. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, your body shaking with the force of your climax. Natasha held you through it, her own breath coming in heavy pants.

As the van continued its journey, you slumped back against Natasha, your body spent and trembling. Natasha’s cock was still buried deep inside you, keeping you filled and connected. Natasha’s hand caressed your cheek, her voice softening. “Good girl,” she murmured. “You did so well.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. You turned your head slightly, meeting Natasha’s eyes. “You planned this, didn’t you?” you whispered, a mix of accusation and admiration in your tone. Natasha’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Maybe,” she replied, her voice low and teasing. “Did you like it?”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Yes,” you admitted, your voice soft. “I did.” Natasha’s hand slid down to squeeze your thigh gently. “Good,” she said. “Because we still have 4 hours ahead of us.”

[buttercandy16]

Asylum

Chapter One: The Arrival

PAIRING(s): Psychiatrist!Agatha Harkness x Patient!Reader x Inmate!Rio Vidal

SUMMARY: Wrongfully imprisoned, Reader becomes the obsession of Agatha, a cunning psychiatrist, and Rio, a fiery inmate. Together, they’ll ensure she’s theirs—forever.

WARNING(s): Obsession, Manipulation, Violence, Confinement, Madness, Dubcon, and Betrayal.

A/N: This is a multi chapter fanfiction. Enjoy!

The rain was unrelenting as the van crawled through the craggy terrain. Fat droplets splattered against the steel roof in an angry drumbeat, their rhythm drowning out the hum of the engine. You sat stiffly in the back, the cold bite of leather cuffs rubbing raw circles around your wrists. Every bump in the road seemed to vibrate through your spine, each jolt bringing the reality of your situation closer, sharper.

Ahead, through the rain-streaked window, the asylum loomed like something torn from the pages of a nightmare. The sprawling structure was old, almost medieval, its high towers reaching toward the slate-gray sky as if to mock the heavens. Shadows flickered in the glass-paned windows, though whether they belonged to people or the storm clouds overhead, you couldn’t tell.

You shivered, pulling your thin cardigan tighter around you despite knowing it wouldn’t help. No amount of warmth would banish the chill coiled deep in your chest.

“This is all a mistake,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from repeating the plea over and over during the hours-long journey.

The guard next to you didn’t look up from his phone, swiping casually through videos as if your entire life hadn’t just been stolen away from you.

“I didn’t do it,” you tried again, louder this time. “I didn’t kill him!”

This time, the driver, an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard, snorted. “They all say that.”

You flinched, sinking back into your seat as hopelessness tangled around you. The image of your stepmother’s smug smile was burned into the backs of your eyelids—how she’d wept and lied on the stand, her performance faultless. How every shred of evidence had been twisted against you until even you started to doubt your own innocence.

“No,” you whispered again, shaking your head sharply. “I didn’t do it.”

No one answered.

When the van came to a jerking halt, you almost toppled forward into the guard. He grabbed your arm roughly as if you’d intentionally made a move against him.

“We’re here,” he barked, pulling you from your seat.

As your feet hit the wet concrete, the asylum’s heavy iron gates groaned open in the distance, and the roar of the storm seemed to amplify. A surge of wind lashed at your face, and you staggered, the cuffs restricting your balance. Before you could react, the guards pushed you forward, herding you like cattle toward the yawning mouth of the asylum.

Every detail of the building screamed hopelessness. Water cascaded down the blackened stone, its edges weathered and sharp like the fangs of a hungry beast. Vines crawled up the sides, their lifeless branches clawing at the window frames.

You wanted to dig your heels into the ground, to scream and fight until they believed you, but your body felt leaden. What was the point? No one believed you before—why would they believe you now?

Inside, the walls were as lifeless as the exterior. Pale gray concrete floors stretched endlessly under flickering fluorescent lights, the sound of dripping water echoing somewhere deep within the bowels of the facility. The hallway leading to the intake desk was narrow, oppressive. Every step made your skin crawl with the sense that you were being watched.

“Keep moving,” the guard ordered, his large hand pressing into your back, forcing you forward.

At the far end of the corridor, a woman stood waiting. The nurse at her side seemed diminutive in comparison to her imposing presence, but it was her eyes that truly made you freeze.

Her gaze was sharp, intelligent, and utterly cold.

Dr. Agatha Harkness.

She exuded confidence, her heels clicking against the concrete as she approached. Everything about her, from the sleek black of her suit to the crimson polish on her nails, was immaculate. She wore her authority like a shroud, commanding respect before she even spoke.

“This is her,” the nurse said, stepping aside as Agatha stopped in front of you. “Patient 407.”

Your mouth opened to protest, but no words came out. Agatha’s gaze felt like a scalpel, dissecting you, unraveling you from the inside out without ever touching you.

“You must be [Your Name],” she said, her voice honey-smooth yet laced with steel.

You nodded shakily, your voice lost.

Her lips curved into a faint smile—not warm or reassuring, but calculated. She moved closer, her presence suffocating as her eyes traced over your face, lingering on the trembling of your hands.

“Good,” she said softly, more to herself than to you. “You’ll do nicely.”

Her words chilled you to the bone.

As Agatha motioned for your restraints to be removed, she placed a hand lightly on your arm, her grip deceptively gentle. “Relax,” she said, though her command carried a weight that made your knees feel weak. “You’re safe here.”

The guards grumbled as they unlocked your cuffs, one muttering about the doctor’s “special cases,” but Agatha ignored them. Her attention was entirely on you, her thumb brushing idly against your forearm.

“We’ll talk soon,” she said, her tone quiet but firm.

You stared after her as she strode down the hallway, your unease deepening with every step she took.

“Let’s go,” the guard barked, yanking you forward once again.

In that moment, you couldn’t decide which fate was worse: staying in the asylum or being at the mercy of Dr. Agatha Harkness.

_-_-_

I'll update one chapter a day or maybe two, lol.

Please don't forget to vote, reblog, and comment. Send in requests 😘💜💚

[grugruel]

Big Iron

Pairings:

bounty hunter!Arthur Morgan x outlaw!f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: She's escaped a robbery, and bounty hunters have been sent out after her. They'd made no problem so far– that said, the notorious Arthur Morgan set upon her trail.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: Arthur Morgan, pinv sex, rough sex, soft sex ish, lap/bulge-riding, praise, petnames (girl, sweetheart, ma'am), creampie, overstimulation.

AN: 3rd person pov, trying it out. Not yet proofread!

A campfire blazed in the night, casting a warm glow over the small, temporary hideout.

Smoldering flakes of ash rose skyward in tired swirls, and the woman's face lit up, sizzling embers of spent coal entrancing her.

The fires of a bright building shouldered It's way into her mind, stealing precious space from all else.

Trees around her rustled, and she leaned back against the rockwall. An overhanging cliff sheltering her.

Guard lowered, at last. She let herself slide down the wall until she felt the ground beneath her thighs. Then dove deeper into the memory.

Money was all she had needed. But the simple, well practiced heist escalated. Attempted arson had suddenly been added to her list of offences, robbery another one among them. Which she could admit to, and proudly so.

But the fire. . . Now the fire was not her fault.

Not only was the law after her, but they'd also sent out money hungry bounty hunters aswell. She'd already tied two of them down yesterday, big brutish men they were. All muscle and no brains. Still, they proved to be quite the nuisance. But they wouldn't be a problem anymore unless they died of starvation, which would indeed be u fortunate.

She gritted her teeth at the memory, her eyes interanally. She doubted it, seeing as they were curently tied to the fence of the sheriff's office.

Which left only one real threat.

One man, one singular man; a notorious outlaw himself. He was the sheriff's most resent hire. Big, deadly, tall and muscled. From long days of hard work killing and robbing she imagined.

She'd actually seen him in person once, and she could admit, he looked dangerous, and devilishly handsome. The rumors had been right about that, she was only hoping that his volatile reputation along with the Van Der Lind gang's would turn out to be folly.

She shivered at the thought, shaking her to the very bones. If it were from the thought of him or the cool of the night, she did not know. She closed her arms around herself, stroking them for warmth as she pushed the unpleasant thoughts away, her gaze snapping to the treeline beyond.

Back to reality, and suddenly accutely aware of the black darkness that lingered between the thick stems beyond. Her vision was good, and she was quite hidden after all. No one would be sneaking up on her.

"Ma'am."

From the shadows, a man appeared at the edge of the campfires domain, vaguely illuminated by its warmth. Broad and tall in frame, the deep night clung to his back. His sudden prescence was the only evidence of his arrival, he'd made no sound nor been seen before he'd needed to be.

Her eyes snapped in his direction, widening with recognition, the eerie sense divulged itself to her body. Like poison, it spread quickly, crawling into every blood vessel and turning them ice-cold along its journey.

"Mister," she greeted, doing her damndest to stay calm.

His hat covered his eyes, but the smile he dealt was unmistakable. 'There's quite the bounty on you, girl.' The drawl of his accent sunk into her skin like the warmth of the fire.

"There's no doubtin' that," she nodded in admittal, slowly moving away from him, "Although im only worth half of it, I assure you."

She moved slowly, eyes meeting his as they poked out beneath his hat. He tilted his head to face hers, regarding her silently. Eyes flickering over her, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, and how her blouse revealed the hills of her chest. ". . . 'S that so?. . ." He took a step closer, the rope in his hands now excruciatingly evident to her.

She got to her feet in one swift motion, hesitantly gesturing for him to stay calm. "Mister, I'm not a murderer. The sheriff framed me." She took a few steps to the left, placing the fire between them.

The man chuckled. "I belive ya' ma'am." His hands pulled on the lasso, adjusting its length. Gripping it roughly from time to time, trigger fingers readying themselves for any sudden movement. "But the law can be a crooked thing sometimes." His eyes narrowed in on her, then shrugged nonchalantly. "But, a bounty 's still a bounty girl."

The birds sang above them, and the world blurred around her, her knees suddenly weak. Unfortunately for her, he would be there to catch her in a sense too literal for her liking.

"And I can say the same for myself ma'am, I'm a bad man. . ." His voice imposed, yet, the gravely tone vibrated perfectly well in her ears.

Gulping her nervousity, she assessed her options. . . And then ran.

Trees rushed past in peripheral whirls as she made her way along the cliff wall. Rope flexed behind her, threads wringing against eachother as it was swung and thrown with a woosh.

The air caressed her cheeks, pulling tears from her eyes and whistling in her ears. She gave it all she had, but it wasn't enough to stop the lasso from capturing her with deadly accuracy. It fell over her shoulders and tightened around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides.

The rope pulled taunt–and the world stopped moving for a short second, with a yank, her body whipped forward, and her feet was swept from under her–then, just as suddenly, it sped up again.

Like a tree cut down for its timber, she fell. The ground rushed up to greet her face as she stumbled to the ground with a hard thud. She panted, smelling the earth and feeling the wet grass tickle her face as she struggled against her entanglement; wriggling and thrashing like a stranded fish.

Well-used leather chaps groaned behind her as he stalked closer, winding the rope up with friction she was sure could start a fire, her stumache churned the thought.

The woman rolled onto her back to get a better layout of the situation–and there he stood. Just by her feet, he loomed over her. With his back to the fire, it cast a back-lit glow around him, framing the big man as he filled her sight. Fear and desire fought for the helm, conflicting her mind terribly.

He crouched down, bending over her as he circled the rope around her waist, foirtyfying her restraints and securing his valuable bounty tightly.

He grabbed the lasso and pulled her up diagonally. It pinched her midriff painfully and pulled her body flush against his, just so he could level her head with his. ". . . And I've done bad things," he whispered, lips brushing against her ear. A dull pulse appeared where there ought to be no pulse. She screwed her eyes shut, and lust for this man was the last thing she should be feeling. But oh. . . How his breath raised goosebumps and spread like a wildfire over her skin.

He straightened his legs and stood back, pulling her with him while keeping their bodies close together.

Her breath fanned over his lips as they stood a mere inch apart, one bound and the other free. A smirk made its way onto his lips, his hands sliding along the tied rope around her abdomen until they were at her waist. And in one strong motion–he threw her over his shoulder.

She yelped in surprise. "You brute!" Kicking wildy in hopes of getting free. But one of his arms circled around her legs and gripped the back of her thigh to keep them still, while he laid the other on the small of her back to stop her from falling. "You keep your hands to yourself Mister!" She shouted, struggling against his bullish strength.

"Yes, ma'am." He assured as he began walking, not paying her futile thrashing much mind. "That's not the kind of bad man I am."

She cleared her throat and huffed, expecting more of a reaction. She didn't quite know what to do in this situation, she hadn't planned this far ahead. She didn't think she'd ever be properly cought. "Well, good," she said curtly, calming herself.

Being a nuisance and making this whole situation worse would be a bad idea, and she hadn't made any progress thus far, seeing as his grip was solid steel. So she'd have to settle her mind with the feeling of his strong back beneath her instead. In fact, she was reveling in the feeling of his hand on her thigh.

He stomped out the campfire before moving to where he'd hidden his horse. "Sittin' or layin'?" He asked, being nice enough to hand her to option of sharing his saddle or to be stored over his horses ass.

She huffed, "what a gentleman. Take a guess Mister," she muttered.

He nodded, "Sittin' with me it is." His hands moved to her waist, and easily transfered her from his shoulder and onto the saddle. She scoffed for the sake of scoffing, eyes narrowing as she looked down on him, and if it had the power to, her look could certainly have killed him. "Quite presumtions of you."

With a low chuckle and a shake of his head, he gripped the saddle before climbing on. Placing his hands on either side of it, one hand on the pommel and the other on the cantel. Which just so happened to be between her thighs, and just behind her ass. Almost grazing her on both sides as he braced himself against the saddle, eyes meeting hers with a satisfied smirk, "Much more attitude from ya' girl and I'll have to take meassures."

Shock sprung itself on her, feeling dizzy all over again. The knuckle of his thumb was an inch away from brushing against her cunt. Her eyes widened at the fact, and the implications his words carried. Her loins burned, but she simply cleared her throat and neutralised her expression, "Id like to see you try." And faced away from him, turning her nose upward.

He climbed onto the horse, placing himself close intil her back and leaned over her shoulder. "I will if you'd let me, respectfully, ma'am," he whispered in her ear and then spurred his horse. Shivers shook her at that, her entire body vibrating with a dull sense of need.

They rode silently for a long while, and she wanted to sass him, she wanted it terribly. But was both afraid and hoping he'd take action, just as he'd stated.

The miles wound on, oh it felt never ending. Especially with the man behind her, rutting his hips against her with every step of the horse. He was a blessing against the cold, but pure torture as his heat soaked into all the wrong spots of her body.

Finally, it came time to rest. They'd ridden nonstop from the early morning of her capture to the next night. If that weren't enough, a heatwave had been raging for the entirety of the day as well, and the setting of the sun had barely made a difference.

He set her on the ground, binding her feet and hands before starting on the camp. Making quick work of the fire and tent as she sat down on a rock, silently watching the man work, and very much enjoying the show.

His skin was slick with sweat, much like herself. The cool light of the moon and the warmth of the fire made him glisten in every sense of the word, and oh, the way he toiled away.

He'd removed his vest and chaps as he got to work, respectively rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, which now stuck to his skin. A nuisance for him to be sure, but a dream for her, she could practically see the muscles of his chest rippling.

A drop of sweat trickled down her temple, tickling her skin and drawing focus away from the view. Her eyes widened as she realised how she stared at the stranger and shook her head, attempting to clear it.

Goodness, focus. She needed to hatch a plan.

Running would do her no good, he would be too fast. He wouldn't accept bribes either and was very hard to persuade. No attempts had been successful so far.

At that thought, unavoidably, abashedly her eyes snapped back to him as he pulled his shirt off and reached for a new one in his saddlebag. She clenched her jaw to keep it from falling, his strong chest was adorned by hair, trailing down his abdomen and disappearing under, the waist of his pants.

She swallowed. In that exact moment, she wanted nothing more than to see where that trail ended.

Her jaw began aching, she fought to tear her eyes away from him. Managing to direct her gaze to the ground instead, a d impatiently waited for him to put a fresh shirt on.

After a short while, she dared look up again. He'd pulled a log to opposite side of the fire and sat down, a cigarette had been placed between his lips, and was currently being inhaled with fervor. Tilting his head back, he released the cloud of smoke with a sigh.

Her eyes followed his movements intently, studying them as she hoped that perhaps he'd notice her and offer one–

"Want one, girl?" He nodded toward her, gesturing with the match box.

"I do, yes," she answered expectantly, holding her hands out for him to untie.

But to her surprise, he scoffed, then stod and walked around the fire. He crouched onto one knee in front of her, his arm bracing on top of the other. "You'll have to do better than that," he said.

He plucked the cigarette from his lips and offered it to her, holding it an inch from her mouth. She hesitated, observing him with disdain. "Go on," he nodded.

Reluctantly, she followed his orders, but met his eyes to make sure he knew how unhappy she was about it, and then leaned in.

Closing her lips around the cigarette, she could feel the dampness where his own lips had been moments before, and sucked the toxic smoke into her lungs, as if it were air.

She swore she saw something glint in his eyes, studying her pouting lips. And a plan struck her suddenly, but–

"Good girl," he hummed.

Again, shock gripped her. The praise rose right to her head, sending waves of heat cascading through her body. Then she coughed, the smoke settling wrong in her airways. She pulled back, letting him retrieve his cigarette while she worked to regain her composure. "You alright there, sweetheart?" He asked with a grin and patted her back before replacing the cig between his lips.

"Just fine, mister," she hissed, still reeling. "You got anything stronger? Whiskey, bourbon?"

He nodded and pulled out an old bottle of bourbon from his bag, "Could you?" She held her hands out to him again.

He studied her, stroking his stubbled jaw in thought. "Got somethin' for me, then?"

Insinuations led her down a path of filthy thoughts, but she instead opted for a simple, "Please?" Instead, attempting it cheapishly.

His hands slipped down to his hip, pulling the knife from its hilt. "That's more like it," he mumbeled with his cigarette clad lips.

And cut the rope around her hands and feet, stopping at the rope around her waist and met her eyes. "Try anythin'. . ." He raised his eyebrows and lowered his voice to a mocking tone. ". . . Run, hurt me, trick me." His eyes narrowed, the corner of his lip tugging. "And there'll be a steep price to be paid."

Swallowing, she nodded enthusiastically, "I just wan't a sliver of freedom before im locked up, you could understand that."

He nodded. "S'pose so. . ." And began untying. "The difference is, girl–" The lasso loosened and slid down her sides. "–that I'd never get caught." He gathered it and pulled it over her body, his fingers accidentally brushing against her hips, the sides of her breasts.

Her breath hitched, and their eyes met. Her skin tingled desperately as fluttering wingbeats set off in her stumache. Such a small thing, building into such a big reaction.

He cleared his throat, handing her the bottle as he threw the rope into the fire and put the lasso bag in his saddlebag. Finally replacing himself on another log, not as far away from her this time. He leaned back against the tree behind it and spread his legs wide. His bulge was enough to make her salivate. "It's not easy, you know, for a woman like me, when there's men like you, Mr Morgan."

Arthur quriked an eyebrow in question. "You know me?"

"I know of you," she corrected, taking a big swig of the fluid, then handed it back to him for him to do the same.

He nodded silently, a sigh escaping under his breath. "All bad I hope." He took another swallow, not to bothered by her statement. Probably used to hearing it by now.

She shook her head, taking the bottle and another gulp. "Many of the ladies say you're handsome."

At this, he looked up at her, chuckling. "Well, I don't know 'bout that."

"It's true. . ." Antoher sip, followed by a hiccup. "They say you can be quite the gentleman too."

His eyes bore into hers, his tone serious but expression joking as he humored her. "Depends on the lady." He reached for the bottle, and she stood up to give it to him. Walking closer, she handed it over, fingers brushing against each other in the motion.

His eyes met hers, and she brushed her hand under his chin. "You know what else they say, Mr Morgan?"

"No . . . What do they say about me, sweetheart?" A smirk made its way onto his lips. The liquor seamingly starting to affect the pair of them.

"That you're good in bed. . ." he stepped between his thighs, her hand falling from his chin to his neck, scratching at the nape gently.

He hummed appreciatively, then took another sip of the bourbon and set the bottle aside. His hands reached for her, coming to a rest on either side of her thighs, pulling her closer to him, squeezing them at his pleasure. "They're only rumours girl." He tilted his head backward, resting it against the tree to get a better look at her, eyes fastening on her lips.

With her other hand, she hiked her skirt up, revealing her thighs as she stepped over his legs. One at a time, then slowly sank down on his lap, while his hands automatically slid to her hips.

She placed herself on top of his bulge. He grunted from the pressure. The pulse within her began strumming at her nerves, turning them jittery.

"See, I doubt that, Mr Morgan." She whispered. "Women do not lie to eachother of such things." His bulge beneath her grew harder, luring a hidden smile from her. It took strength to will it from her lips and only reach her eyes. "They say you're rough, or gentle. Dependin' on your mood." As she said that, she could've sworn she detected the faintest red creep up his cheeks. Arthur Morgan, blushing? Now, she couldnt help herself and the smile reached her lips.

The man cleared his throat, acting as if it had never happened. "That's told of me in everythin' I do." He smirked, the grip on her hips hardening, knuckles turning white.

"But you're always sweet 'n caring." She continued, her own words were building the lust within her, making the pulse ever stronger. It grew harder to focus. She needed to release some of the pressure building inside her. Evaluating the consequences, and deaming them minor in conparison to her needs, she rocked her hips downward–grinding into his bulge.

Simultaneously, she whimpered and he hissed. She leaned against him, her lips brushing against his ear as shenuzzled his cheek. "Apparently, It's also true what they say 'bout ridin' cowboys-"

"Girl," he interrupted with a chuckle. "Dont think I dont know what you're doin'. . ." He breathed. "Seducin' me." With the tight grip on her hips, he rocked her hips against him, the rough fabric of his pants grinding against her core.

With a gasp, one of her hands shot out to burry itself in his hair. She leaned into him, the other hand grabbing his shirt for support as she rested her head against his shoulder. He nuzzled his cheek against hers, returning the gesture and muttered. "You use your sweet talkin', then get me drunk 'n run off, that your plan?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, hips grinding down harder, her ruts becoming more frantic, needy. She screwed her eyes shut from the copious amounts of pleasure washing over her. All she could do to answer him was hum in admittal as she strained hard to focus.

He chuckled. "Easy girl. . ." His voice commanding, low and raspy as he slowed her hips, but keeps the pace hard. "Use your words." He ordered, loving the way she fell apart for him.

She nodded hastily, hoping it'd be enough satisfy his request. But he pinched her hip through the fabric of her skirt, and her eyebrows furrowed in pain. However, not having the energy to even make a sound. Her thoughts were a blur, she couldn't tell what to keep hidden anymore. "Yes– yes. . ." She moaned, the coil inside her tightening impossibly hard.

"Thought so," he breathed, the words curt on his tongue, but lust evident in his voice. Suddenly, his hands left her hips, snd one arm snaked around her waist, his hand placing itself at the small of her back to push her against him.

Then he stood, drawing a whine from her. She did not quite understand what was going on as the loss of movement gradually undid all the progress she'd made. "Mr Morgan?" She inquired, hesitantly wrapping her legs around his hips.

He walked them toward the tent. "Arthur," he corrected, carrying her with ease. Pushing the tent flap to the side, he kneeled, bending over her as he placed her on the ground.

"Arthur," she smiled, worry seeping out of her as she realised he was making them more comfortable.

His knees slid apart, hooking her legs upon them as they spread. Her hands shot up in response, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, close enough for his lips to hover over hers. Their eyes met. "Please. . ." She whimpered, one hand sliding downward. ". . .Please." She said again, fingertips trailing down his abdomen, suddenly grabbing hold of his bulge with a firm hand, his member rock hard. "Outlaw or gentleman?" She asked, smiling a wicked smile.

A grutn escaped him while his lips brushed over hers. "Neither." And grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away from his crotch and catching the other in the same motion. His free hand reached over her head, and the hauntingly familiar groaning of strong rope sounded above her. She shook her head, "Arthur, please. . ." Panic moved into her voice, the repeated words carrying a completely different meaning this time.

He held both wrists with one hand and tied them together with the other, the rope stinging her skin. She cried out unhappily.

But he chuckled, in a matter of factly kind of way. Stroking the burn gently as ge corrected her, "Should've behaved." And when done, he sat back. Observing her as she laid tied up, legs spread in front of him, and circled around his hips. Much to his dismay, he wouldn't be enjoying the sight as much as he wanted to. "It's late."

"Arthur. . ." She pleads, attempting to appeal to him, one last time.

He turns his head just enough to see her in his peripheral. "Get some sleep. You got a long day ahead of you tomorrow." He flashed his eyebrows smugly. "Night, sweetheart." Then exited the tent without another word.

She huffed, unbelievable.

Sweetheart. . . But how could she be annoyed when he called her such a thing. She dreamed herself away, with imagines of a shirtless Arthur Morgan and the feeling of him inside her. But she'd not given up, make no mistake, he would fall asleep and she would leave. . .

The night carried on and the temperature finally began dropping, a shiver shook her pleasantly. It was a welcome change. Her body strained as she raised her neck to get a look of the outside. Through the flap she saw Arthur, sitting, snoring, hat covering his face as he leaned back against the tree he'd previously been sitting on.

Now, she needed to get rid of her restraints. Rolling over, she crawled toward the opening, her eyes never leaving Mr Morgans sheathed knife.

The fire had been reduced to embers at this point. Crackling and sizzling lowly as the cool moisture in the air riddled the grass with dewdrops, dampening her hands and skirt as she approached her goal. She sat on her knees, then moved to grab the knife carefully, gnelty sliding it out. The sound of it unlatching nearly had her yelp.

No movement in Arthur.

Shallow breaths, she exhales. Relief flooding through her begoee she began working the knife against her entangled wrists with her fingertips. Carefully regarding the vicious man for any signs of waking. But her thoughts slid, perhaps, if he caught her, he would be kind. Or would he be angry? She could truly not decide werther which reaction she'd most prefer–

The rope snapped, and exhilaration filled her. Gaze snapping between her free hands and the hunter, imagining her prospects. She stood quietly, holding her skirt tightly around her to keep the fabrics from rustling. Slowly, knife still in hand, she backed away. On careful tiptoed steps she faded into the night, the fire dwindling in the distance.

The darkness made it hard for her to see much of anything, at its height the tree-crowns silhouette were visible against the blue summer sky. Branches moved, leaves swished in the gentle wind. She grew paranoid, head snapping in every direction, reacting to every little noise around–

A branch broke behind her, she jumped, turning around so fast she almost ripped– a Buck. She froze, a god damned buck? She had expected it ro be Arthur, but she seemed to have ogtten the better of him. The animal looked at her, ears twitching as it chewed on grass– suddenly hopping away. She sighed and turned back.

Only to collide with something hard. Her thoughts raced, she knew, she knew. She looked up, eyes tracing along his body until they met his, half hidden under his hat. Reflexes prepared her to run, but before she had as much as taken a step back, a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her back to him. Again, she thumped into his strong chest. Held against him with the familiar iron grip, she fought, as usual; but to no avail, as usual. He snaked an arm around her waist to hinder her from breaking free, yet she kicked and punched violently with her free limbs. But it made no dent in the man. He couldn't even spare her a reaction as he half carried, half dragged her back into the low light of the burnt out fire. He spun her around and pushed her up against the cliff wall, grabbing the wrist closest to him and pinning it above her head. "I warned you, girl." He snarled, the look in his eyes doing just as good a of job pinning her to the wall as his hands. He reaches for the second–

When something sharp digs into the soft flesh of his throat, he froze. His chest was the only thing moving between the two of them, heaving breaths of annoyance.

"Thrid times the charm." She smirked.

He raised his eyebrows and chuckled, "That so?" His voice mocking, and before she could comprehend what had happened, he'd captured both wrists with one hand and slammed them above her head and into the wall. And the knife had appeared in his free hand, she noticed this because it was now held against her own throat. "Repeat that for me girl."

Her lips struck a thin line as she attempted a neutral expression, although fuming on the inside. She shrugged her shoulders, "No." Was all she said, but stubborn in tone.

He nodded, looking her up and down, studying the buttons on her blouse. "Ought to teach you a lesson sweetheart."

She cleared her throat, deciding that to act nonchalant was her best option. "Yeah? What ya' gunna do, huh? Ravage me?" She asked half joking, but still hoping there'd be some truth to it.

At this, the corner of his mouth turned up, a wicked grin developing on his lips. "I just might." He breathed, tracing the tip of the knife downward, along her collarbone and then along the front of her blouse, coming to a stop at the first button. She gulped, feeling the knife poke through the thin fabric against her chest, making goosebumps run amock in reaction and the pulse reheating in her core. He leaned forward, pushing his body against hers until there was no room left between them, his head hovering just above the crook of her neck. "May I do with you as I please?"

This was it, the sweet balance between a hardened outlaw and a tender gentleman. "Yes– yes, Arthur please." Her voice near a cry, it took everything in her to control her tone–

Her blouse ripped, from top to bottom he cut it open, and she wasn't wearing a brasier. Her chest laid bare before him, and he groaned happily at the sight.

With her go-ahead he wasted no time, he let go of her hands and cut her skirt too. Cutting a slit as far as he reached with the knife then threw it to the side, and the tore the rest. She gasped, every nerve in her body on edge. In an instant, his lips were upon hers. Hungry, hungry lips devouvered her as hands roamed her body, groping and grabbing wherever they got purchase. Her own hands greedily searching for a steady hold in his hair, she grabbed a fistful and pulled gently. He moaned at the feeling, such a beautiful sound. His hands slid over her breasts, squeezing them, then pushed the remains of her blouse off of her shoulders.

Except for her undergarments, she stood completley exposed for him. She could practically feel him salivating when he cupped her clothed mound, and finding her clit with expertise and rub it through the fabric.

She tore herself free from his kisses, she had to breathe. A deep gasp brought oxygen to ger lungs once again, allowing her to whimperand moan in equal measure as he worked her clit. The pressure made her knees week, she wriggled, attempting to rut against his hand. But she was too unsteady to make progress. Noticing her difficulties, his other hand slid behind her back and held her steady. Allowing her to chase her pleasure. And left with no lips to kiss, he latched onto her neck instead, to suck at her sweet spot.

She hummed appreciatively, unable to keep a big smile from her lips as pulses of pleasure washed through her. She slid her hands from his hair and unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingers along his strong chest and abdomen, gingerly feeling all of him as her hands worked themselves lower. Finally unbuttoning his pants. She did no longer have to wonder were his happy trail dissapeared too, she bit her lip. He was huge. She stuck her hand into his pants and stroked him eagerly. "Need ya' Arthur, please." She panted.

He let out a strained grunt against her shoulder, and his hand left her clit. She whined, but didn't have to stay displeased for long.

Both his hands slid down her sides, and she tried to breathe steadily, but it proved hard. The feeling of his calloused hands on her skin was too heavenly. Suddenly, he lifted her. Pinning her against the cliff wall with his arms and the weight of his body, allowing her to wrap her arms and legs around him. She hadn't known, but he had wordlessly obided her request. He pulled her garments to the side, and line himself up with her entrance. "Sure about this?" He asked, a final reassurance.

"Yes." She purred, no hesitation in her answer.

And so he pushed inside her, the sheer size of him was making her want to scream–

"Good girl." He moaned, and directed his eyes to hers. She repressed a moan, biting her lip hard to hinder it as heat flashed through her. It was two words, yet she could've come undone from them alone, when said by him alone.

He gazed upon her softly, one of his hands left her thigh to gently stroke a strand of hair from her face. She smiled, and so did he. He was just giving her time to adjust, but her heart soared at the simple gesture.

God how could she feel so strongly for a stranger?

Her hands retangled in his hair as Arthur slid out of her, she furrowed her brows– but in a rough, quick thrust. He shoved himself back inside of her, filling her to the brim. He set a cruelly pleasurable, unrelenting pace. Any trace of gentleness gone.

She felt the pressure tightening within her, building snd building until she was on the verge of coming once again. Her hands sunk to his back, clawing and scratching because she did not know what else to do, he was too much, too good, too big. He overstimulated her with his mere prescence. And he knew when her walls tightened around him, adding extra pressure onto his already throbbing member. "You close girl?" He grunted, his gruff voice breathed against her ear and his hand squeezing her thigh roughly beneath her. God it was sublime.

"Mhm. . . So- close.'" She murmurs, her words coming out jagged as her body rocks with Arthurs thrusts. Pushed closer to her release with each thrust, once again, she shut her eyes and spots speckled her eyelids. Breathing turns frantic, she could no longer tell who was who as they mixed, moans and curses spilling from them both.

With a flash of pleasure, searing hot it soured through her, making her whimper uncontrollably. His thrusts slow, holding her securely, caressing her face and kissing her lips as she rides out her high. "You're alright girl." He breathes reassuringly, "Well done Sweetheart."

Overstimulated tears roll from her eyes, "Oh Arthur, you sweet, sweet man." She sighs happily, and he comes a mere second later. His seed filling her and oozing out.

They'd clean themselves tomorrow, since tiredness plagued them currently. He backed away from the wall and she clung to him, desperatley not wanting to part with him.

He carried her back to the tent, this time not bothering to tie her up as they laid down facing eachother. Arthur, grabbed her chin between his index and forefinger. Studying her thuroughly before they finally succumbed to sleep. She could escape if she wanted to, he wouldn't stop her this time. Her plan had worked, they both knew it. But they felt something else too, and they both knew it.

Hooded eyes blinked, blushing at Arthurs intent eyes and searching gaze. Her eyelids weighed down by exhaustion, It'd been a long few days, and before she knew it–

The light dawns, rays of dusty sunlight shone through the flap of their tent as the morning wakes. Bringing warmer tempratures and calm birdsong.

He opens his eyes, and immediately meet hers. She'd just been admiring him. "Surprised?" She asked, biting her lip and stopping herself from reaching out to touch him.

He smiles, "Naw, I was hopin' I'd wake up to you girl."

[woniedarlin]

Flipped: Yang Jungwon

pairing: Jungwon x fem! reader

synopsis: You’ve always adored Jungwon since the age of 8. Calling him your prince but he's never reciprocated. Finding you annoying especially when you give him those goo-goo eyes. Despite the years that pass, your love for him remains until a betrayal shakes your foundation. Now, as the tables turn, you find yourself ignoring him while he desperately pursues your forgiveness. Will this cycle of love and hurt ever find its resolution?

warnings: bittersweet, cussing, kissing

note: Hello, my lovely darlings! Based on the title, this is inspired by the movie ‘Flipped’. It took me a while to make this since I had writer’s block. So I deeply apologize if this disappoints you. Happy reading!

caution: Love’s journey may be fraught with betrayal, heartache, and unexpected twists. Brace yourself for an emotional rollercoaster.

taglist: @sol3chu @hwanchaesong @manduhao @velvetkisscs

Jungwon

I felt a mixture of uncertainty and reluctance as I sat in the car, watching unfamiliar houses pass by. Moving to a new home meant leaving behind everything familiar, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Each house we passed seemed like a marker of the unknown. My parents assured me it was for the best—a new job for Dad, a fresh start for all of us—but I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. The streets, the buildings, and even the trees looked different. Nothing felt right.

 Then, through the car window, I saw a girl around my age sitting in front of a small house. Our eyes met for a split second before I quickly looked away, feeling a flush of discomfort. She seemed to hold my gaze longer than necessary, making me even more uneasy.

As the car parked in front of our new house, my heart sank. This was it. Our new beginning. My mother’s cheerful welcome and the sight of the moving van were supposed to reassure me, but the knot in my stomach tightened. I missed our old home, my friends, and the familiarity of it all.

The next day, my apprehension lingered. I stood by the window, noticing the house across from ours—a smaller, less impressive home. I wondered who lived there. Then the doorbell rang, interrupting my thoughts. My mom called me to meet someone. Reluctantly, I obeyed, dragging my feet as I approached the door.

Standing there was the girl I had seen the day before, holding a plate of rice cakes. Her eyes lit up when she saw me.

  “So, this lovely girl gave us rice cakes because we moved in. Please get to know her. I’m sure you two will be great friends,” my mother said with a big smile, pushing me gently towards her.

“Wait, Mom—” I protested, but it was too late. She left me alone with the girl. I furrowed my eyebrows, feeling even more apprehensive about the situation.

“Hi! My name is Park Y/n. Nice to meet you,” the girl greeted cheerfully, her smile widening.

Huh... So that’s her name. A weird name for a weird girl. I quickly glanced at Y/n’s face, hoping not to meet her gaze, but couldn’t help but notice her cheerful smile.

“I’m Yang Jungwon. Nice to meet you too,” I muttered, my voice barely audible. I shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to say or where to look.

Her presence made me feel uncomfortable.

  “Come on! Let’s play,” she giggled and grabbed my arm to drag me outside, oblivious to my resistance.

I attempted to resist, but her grip was firm, and I found myself being dragged along against my will. She pulled me into the front yard. I tried to stop her, and in the process, I ended up grabbing her hand.

We both stopped in our tracks. She looked directly at my face, her eyes wide with curiosity. Why am I still holding hands with this weird girl? I wanted to run back inside the house, go to my room, and lock myself there.

So I did what every 8-year-old kid would do. I ran.

  Y/n

As I sat on the grass of my front lawn, I noticed a car passing by, and my eyes locked onto a boy inside. Even from afar, I could tell he was very handsome. When he looked away immediately, I giggled. He seemed shy. It was cute.

The car was parked in front of the big house across the street. Oh... So this means I get to see the boy frequently since we’re neighbors, apparently. My mind raced with possibilities of friendship, and maybe more, just like in the fairy tales.

The next day, my mom asked me to bring rice cakes she made for the Yangs to welcome them. Of course, I was happy—this meant I’d get to see the boy again and maybe even talk to him. I quickly ran towards the big house, pressing the doorbell, only for me to meet a lady. I assumed that this was Mrs. Yang.

"Hello Mrs. Yang, my name is Park Y/n, and I want to give this rice cake to welcome you all for moving here." I smiled gently and handed her the rice cake.

She accepted it and returned the smile. "Oh, you sweet girl. Thank you for this. I love rice cakes. How old are you, sweetie?"

"I’m 8 years old, Mrs. Yang," I said.

She gasped. "Oh, really? My son is also 8 years old. Wait, hold on—Jungwon? Jungwon?" She looked to the side, calling and waving at someone to come. Is that the boy? Am I finally going to meet the boy up close?

Then, there he was. Wow... I was right. He is very handsome, like a prince from a movie.

"So, this lovely girl gave us rice cakes because we moved in. Please get to know her. I’m sure you two will be great friends,” Mrs. Yang said, giving him a big smile before heading inside with the rice cake in her hands.

"Hi! My name is Park Y/n. Nice to meet you," I said, my smile widening even more. There he was, right in front of me.

"I’m Yang Jungwon. Nice to meet you too," he muttered. But even though he spoke quietly, I felt my ears heat up. His voice was very cute and unique.

He seemed shy, so I wanted to help him come out of his shell. "Come on! Let’s play," I said, grabbing his arm and dragging him toward their yard. He seemed to be playing hard to get.

And then our hands were holding each other. I swear he had the softest hands I’ve ever touched. I looked into his eyes—those cute, boba eyes. Is this it? Will I be getting my first kiss? My first true love kiss, just like the princesses in the movies?

  But then he ran. He must be really shy.

  Jungwon

Grade school was a nightmare, thanks to Y/n. She always followed me around, earning me endless teasing from the other kids. They called me “her prince” because she insisted on it, making my life miserable. I couldn’t stand it. Everything about her was annoying, from her constant attention to that stupid song they would sing: “Jungwon and Y/n were sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

So, I made a plan this time around. High school was my chance for a fresh start. I decided to ask Hyein, the most popular student, out on a date. I figured if Y/n saw me with someone else, she’d finally leave me alone. To my surprise, it worked. For weeks, she kept her distance.

However, I could always feel her glare whenever I was with Hyein. It sent chills down my spine. My victory was short-lived, though. My supposed best friend, Jay, betrayed me by telling Hyein I was using her to get away from Y/n. That jerk.

Hyein dumped me, and things quickly went back to the way they were before. Y/n resumed her relentless pursuit, much to my dismay.

One morning, I heard her high-pitched voice behind me: “Hi, Jungwon! ”

I felt a wave of annoyance wash over me as soon as I heard her voice. I let out a long sigh internally, preparing myself for the upcoming interaction. With my back leaned against the lockers, I looked up, greeted by that cheerful expression on her face. Her eyes looked at me with such adoration that it was almost sickening.

“Hi, Y/N,” I responded with a mutter, masking my irritation.

“See you in class? ”She tilted her head.

I nodded without a hint of enthusiasm. “Mm-hmm.” My response was brief, bordering on rude. It was evident that I wasn’t willing to humor her any longer. Hopefully, she will finally understand the message.

She didn’t.

Instead, she smiled even brighter, seemingly oblivious to my indifference. She gave a small wave and bounced away, leaving me standing there in frustration.

I sighed again, turning to head to class. It looked like high school wasn’t going to be the fresh start I had hoped for. Instead, it was just a continuation of the same old annoyance, with Y/N at the center of it all.

  Y/n

Grade school felt like a dream. I was always by Jungwon’s side, watching him grow. Sure, he acted annoyed, but I thought, deep down, he enjoyed having me around. That was until high school started, and everything changed.

The first day of high school was supposed to be exciting—a new chapter for both of us. I imagined us walking to class together, sitting next to each other during lunch, and maybe even studying together in the library. But all my dreams were shattered when I saw him with Hyein.

Hyein, with her perfect hair, perfect smile, and perfect everything. She was the most popular girl in school, and she had somehow set her sights on Jungwon. I couldn’t believe it when I saw them together. My heart ached as I watched them laugh and talk like they had known each other forever.

For weeks, I kept my distance. I didn’t want to be the annoying girl who couldn’t take a hint. I saw them everywhere—in the hallways, at lunch, even after school. Each time I saw Hyein with Jungwon, my chest tightened with jealousy. Why her? Why with my Jungwon? My prince? What did she have that I didn’t? I couldn’t understand why he chose her over me.

But then, finally after a few weeks, Hyein dumped him. It would mean things could go back to normal, that Jungwon and I could go back to the way we were.

One morning, I spotted him leaning against the lockers, lost in thought. I bound over to him, eager to start the day like before. “Hi, Jungwon! ”

He looked up, his expression unreadable. “Hi, Y/n,” he responded, his tone lacking the usual warmth.

“See you in class? ”I asked, flashing him a bright smile.

He nodded, but his response lacked enthusiasm. “Mm-hmm.” There was a hint of irritation in his voice, but I brushed it off as him being tired or preoccupied with something else.

“Okay, see you then! ”I chirped, oblivious to the tension between us. I waved and skipped away, my mind already drifting to the day ahead.

Jungwon

Ever since we were little, Y/n had this strange obsession with the sycamore tree near the house. She would climb up to the highest branch that would support her weight and sit there for hours, reading a book or just watching the world go by. She called it her “thinking spot,” but to me, it was just a tree.

“Come on, Jungwon! Join me! ”She would call out every time she saw me, waving enthusiastically from her perch. I always had an excuse ready.

“Sorry, Y/n, I need to finish my homework,” I’d say, or “My mom needs help with something,” or simply, “Maybe next time.” I was convinced that the tree was just another one of her weird quirks, like her insistence on calling me her prince or her tendency to follow me around everywhere.

But the truth was, I was scared. Not of heights or falling, but of Y/n herself. Her relentless cheerfulness, her unwavering affection, and her ability to make me feel things I wasn’t ready to deal with. Being up there with her, away from everything and everyone, felt too intimate and too revealing.

One day, as I walked home from school, I saw her up in the tree again. She looked different, though—more pensive, more peaceful than usual. She spotted me and, for the first time in years, didn’t immediately call me out. Instead, she just watched me with a curious, almost wistful expression.

“Hey, Jungwon,” she finally said, her voice softer than usual. “You really should come up here sometime. The view is amazing. It’s like you can see the whole world from up here.”

I paused, the usual excuses forming in my mind, but something in her tone made me hesitate. “Maybe another time,” I said, my voice lacking its usual conviction.

She just smiled—the usual smile. “Yeah, maybe.” She turned her gaze back to the horizon, leaving me to continue home with a strange, unsettled feeling.

The next day, I found myself in my room, staring out the window at the sycamore tree. Its branches swayed gently in the breeze, casting dappled shadows on the lawn below. I sighed, feeling a pang of annoyance at the sight.

“Dad, can you believe how many leaves that tree sheds? ”I complained, turning to face him.

My father glanced up from his newspaper, raising an eyebrow. “What’s gotten into you, Jungwon? That tree has been there for years.”

“I know, but it’s blocking the view from my room,” I insisted, frustration bubbling up inside me. “And the leaves—it’s like I have to rake them every other day.”

My father sighed, setting aside his newspaper. “Alright, I’ll handle it. Maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

A few days later, I was walking home from school again when I noticed a commotion. A bunch of police officers were standing around, looking up at the sycamore tree. My heart sank as I got closer and saw Y/n perched high up in the branches, her face streaked with tears.

“You need to come down, miss,” one of the officers called up to her. “The tree is unsafe and needs to be cut down.”

Y/n shook her head vehemently, clutching the branch as if her life depended on it. “No! You can’t cut it down! This is my tree! You can’t take it away! ”

I stood at the edge of the crowd, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. Y/n’s eyes found mine, pleading. “Jungwon, help me! Please, don’t let them cut it down! ”

I only watched in silence, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. Y/n called out for my help, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. Guilt and shame weighed heavily on my shoulders, paralyzing me.

Then, Mr. Park, Y/n’s father, emerged from their house. He walked over to the tree, looking up at his daughter with a mix of sorrow and determination. “Y/n, come down. Please, sweetheart.”

Y/n’s resolve crumbled at her father’s gentle voice. Slowly, she climbed down, tears streaming down her face. As soon as she reached the ground, Mr. Park wrapped his arms around her and guided her back to their small home. She sobbed into his shoulder, her whole body shaking with grief.

I stood there, feeling a hollow ache in my chest. Watching her cry, I realized just how much that tree meant to her and how much she needed it. And in that moment, I felt like I had let her down in the worst way possible.

  Y/n

Ever since I was little, the sycamore tree has been my sanctuary. I would climb up to the highest branch that could support my weight and sit there for hours, feeling the gentle sway of the tree and looking out at the world below. Up there, I felt at peace. The worries and stresses of life seemed to melt away, leaving me with a sense of calm and clarity.

I often dreamt of sitting on that branch with Jungwon beside me, showing him the view that brought me so much comfort. I imagined us sharing that special space, watching the sunset together, feeling the breeze. I believed that if he saw what I saw, he might understand why the tree was so important to me. But Jungwon always had an excuse—homework, helping his mom, or simply “next time.” I told myself he was just shy, still waiting for the perfect moment to join me.

One day, I felt especially at peace, perched on my favorite branch, thinking about everything and nothing. The view was breathtaking, with the sky painted with hues of orange and pink as the sun set. I smiled, imagining Jungwon sitting next to me, finally sharing this moment. I felt so content and in tune with the world around me.

Days later, everything changed. I was back in my tree, savoring the tranquility, when a bunch of police officers appeared below, calling up to me.

“You need to come down, miss,” one of them said. “The tree is unsafe and needs to be cut down.”

I felt a surge of panic and devastation. “No! You can’t cut it down! This is my tree! You can’t take it away! Why are you doing this? ”I clung to the branch, tears streaming down my face.

I spotted Jungwon in the crowd, and my heart ached with desperation. “Jungwon, help me! Please, don’t let them cut it down! ”But he just stood there, staring at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher. He didn’t move and didn’t say anything. I felt a crushing sense of betrayal and helplessness.

Then I heard my father’s voice, gentle and soothing. “Y/n, come down. Please, sweetheart.” His words broke through my resolve, and I slowly climbed down, my tears blurring my vision.

As soon as I reached the ground, my father wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly. I buried my face in his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. The sycamore tree had been like a close friend, a source of comfort and peace. Losing it felt like losing a part of myself.

My father guided me back to our small home, still holding me. As we entered the house, my mother joined us, wrapping her arms around me too. Their embrace provided some solace, but the pain of losing my beloved tree lingered.

I felt a hollow ache inside—a sense of loss that words couldn’t fully capture. The sycamore tree had been my refuge, my escape, and now it was gone. As I stood there, enveloped in my parents’ arms, I couldn’t help but wonder if Jungwon would ever understand what that tree had meant to me.

  Jungwon

The guilt gnawed at me like a relentless beast, driving me to take action. I couldn’t bear the thought of Y/n hating me or of her feeling betrayed by my actions. So, the next day, I mustered up the courage to visit her house.

As I approached the familiar front door, my heart pounded in my chest. What if Y/n refused to see me? What if her parents turned me away?

But to my surprise, when I rang the doorbell, it was Y/n’s parents who greeted me warmly. They invited me inside; their expressions were kind but tinged with sadness.

“Jungwon, what a surprise,” Mrs. Park said, her voice gentle. “Please, come in.”

I followed them into the living room, feeling a knot form in my stomach. This was it—the moment of truth. I had to apologize to make things right with Y/n and her family.

“Mr. and Mrs. Park, I… I need to apologize,” I began, my voice trembling slightly. “I… I was the one who complained about the tree. I never meant for it to go this far. I never wanted to hurt Y/n.”

Mr. and Mrs. Park exchanged a glance, their expressions softening. “Jungwon, we appreciate your honesty,” Mr. Park said, his voice filled with understanding. “But you should know that Y/n is…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the door to the living room burst open, and there stood Y/n, her eyes wide with shock and hurt.

I froze, feeling a lump form in my throat. This was it—the moment of truth. Y/n had heard everything, and now I had to face the consequences of my actions.

“Y/n, I…” I started, but she didn’t let me finish.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and without a word, she turned and ran out of the house, leaving me standing there, feeling more helpless and ashamed than ever before.

Without thinking, I chased after her, calling out her name and pleading for her to stop and listen to me. But she didn’t slow down; she didn’t even glance back at me.

I finally caught up to her, panting and out of breath, but she refused to meet my gaze. Her eyes, usually warm and affectionate, were now cold and distant, filled with hurt and betrayal.

“Y/n, please,” I begged, reaching out to touch her arm. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

She turned to face me, her voice trembling with emotion. “Why, Jungwon? Why did you let them take it away? You knew how much that tree meant to me.”

I stood there, speechless. I didn’t have any excuses other than the fact that I was a total asshole.

But she pulled away, her expression hardening even further. “You’ve already done enough,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness. “Just leave me alone.”

With those words ringing in my ears, I watched helplessly as she turned and walked away, disappearing into the distance. I had messed up in the worst way possible. And as I stood there, feeling the weight of my actions bearing down on me, I knew that earning back her forgiveness would be the hardest thing I had ever done. But I was determined to try, no matter what it took.

  Y/n

I retreated to my room, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on me like a heavy burden. Sitting on my bed, I couldn’t shake the feeling of loss and betrayal. My sanctuary, my haven, had been torn away from me, and I didn’t know how to cope with the emptiness that filled the space inside me.

As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, I heard voices downstairs. Curiosity piqued, and I quietly made my way to the staircase, listening to the conversation unfolding below.

“I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Park,” Jungwon’s voice drifted up to me. “I never meant for things to go this far. I didn’t realize…”

His words cut through me like a knife, reopening the wound of betrayal that still festered inside me. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I leaned against the railing, struggling to process the pain.

And then, I saw him. Jungwon stood in the living room, his expression filled with remorse and regret. Our eyes met, and for a brief moment, I hoped to see a flicker of understanding, of apology. But all I saw was guilt, mingled with something else—something I couldn’t quite decipher.

Without a word, I turned and ran, fleeing from the house and the pain that threatened to consume me. I heard Jungwon’s footsteps behind me, calling out my name, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. His betrayal cut deeper than I had ever imagined, leaving me feeling raw and exposed.

When he finally caught up to me, I turned to face him, my eyes filled with hurt and anger. “Why, Jungwon? Why did you let them take it away? You knew how much that tree meant to me.”

But he had no answer, no words of comfort or explanation. He just stood there, his gaze filled with guilt and regret. And in that moment, I realized that the boy I had trusted, the boy I had admired, had betrayed me in the worst possible way.

“You’ve already done enough,” I said, my voice laced with bitterness. “Just leave me alone.”

Feeling more hurt and betrayed than ever before, I turned and walked away, leaving Jungwon behind. I couldn’t bear to be near him, and I couldn’t bear to see the remorse in his eyes. His betrayal had shattered something inside me—something I wasn’t sure could ever be repaired. And as I walked away, I vowed to protect my heart from further pain, even if it meant shutting out the boy who had once meant so much to me.

Jungwon

It had been a year since that fateful day when everything changed. A year of silence, of longing, of heartache. Y/n had been avoiding me like the plague, ignoring my calls, my texts, and my attempts to talk to her at school. It hurt more than I ever thought possible.

At first, I was angry. I was angry at myself for letting things spiral out of control and for not realizing sooner what she meant to me. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, that anger melted away, leaving only a hollow ache in its wake.

I missed her more than I could put into words. I missed her smile, her laugh, and the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about something she loved. I missed the way she made me feel alive, like anything was possible as long as she was by my side.

But it wasn’t until she was gone—truly gone—that I realized just how much I loved her. It hit me like a ton of bricks, knocking the breath out of me and leaving me gasping for air. I was in love with her, utterly and completely, in a way I had never felt before.

It started from the moment I first saw her, all those years ago, when our eyes met for the briefest of moments. There was something about her—something that drew me to her like a moth to a flame. And even now, after all this time, that feeling hasn’t faded. If anything, it had only grown stronger and more intense until it consumed every part of me.

I knew I had to do something, anything, to make things right with her. I couldn’t let her slip away, not without a fight. But the thought of facing her, of seeing the pain and hurt in her eyes, filled me with a sense of dread. I hated when she cried. It hurts for me to see her pretty eyes filled with tears.

But I had to try. I had to find a way to make her see how much she meant to me and how sorry I was for everything that had happened. And maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for us to find our way back to each other.

Summoning every ounce of courage I had, I approached Y/n in the school hallway. She was standing by her locker, her back turned to me as she fiddled with the lock.

“Y/n,” I called out tentatively, my voice barely above a whisper.

She stiffened at the sound of my voice but didn’t turn around. I took a step closer, my heart pounding in my chest.

“I... I need to talk to you,” I continued, my voice shaking slightly.

Still, she didn’t respond; her silence spoke volumes. I reached out to touch her arm, but she flinched away from my touch, as if my mere presence repulsed her.

“I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be,” I said, my voice filled with remorse. “But please, just hear me out.”

Finally, she turned to face me, her eyes cold and guarded. “What could you possibly have to say that I haven’t already heard? ”She snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I winced at her words, feeling the sting of her anger like a physical blow. But I refused to back down, not when I had come this far.

“I know I messed up, Y/n. I know I hurt you, and I’m so, so sorry,” I said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I love you, Y/n. I always have, and I always will.”

For a moment, there was a flicker of something in her eyes—uncertainty, maybe even hope. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a steely resolve.

“I don’t want to hear it, Jungwon,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You had your chance, and you blew it.”

With those words, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, feeling more defeated than ever.

  Y/n

Every time Jungwon approached me, it felt like a knife twisting in my heart. His presence stirred up a whirlwind of emotions—anger, hurt, longing—all swirling together in a tangled mess. I wanted to ignore him, to shut him out completely, but a part of me couldn't help but listen when he spoke.

When he finally mustered the courage to say those three words—“I love you”—it caught me off guard. It was something I never expected to hear from him, something that felt foreign and unfamiliar on his lips. And yet, there was a sincerity in his voice—a vulnerability that tugged at my heartstrings.

Part of me wanted to forgive him, to let go of the hurt and anger that had consumed me for so long. But another part—the part that had been wounded and betrayed—was hesitant, guarded, afraid to let him back in, afraid to be hurt again.

As I walked away from him, his words echoing in my mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty that lingered within me. Was it possible to forgive and forget, to move past the pain and start anew? Or was it better to guard my heart, to protect myself from further hurt, even if it meant shutting out the one person who had once meant everything to me?

I didn’t have the answers yet.

  Jungwon

It was just another school day, but my mind was consumed by thoughts of her. Y/n. She was like a magnet, drawing my gaze whenever she entered the room. Even during class, I found myself stealing glances at her, unable to tear my eyes away.

As I sat at a table during lunchtime, lost in my thoughts, Hyein appeared in front of me, her voice a distant murmur. I couldn't even make out what she was saying; my attention was completely fixated on Y/n.

And then I saw her, sitting next to some boy I didn't even know. Who was he? What was his relationship with her? Questions raced through my mind, jealousy gnawing at my insides. That is my princess, my Y/n. Why was she sitting there, laughing and looking so beautiful, but with someone else? Someone who is not me.

I didn't even realize that Hyein had been calling my name until she waved her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my reverie. "Jungwon, are you even listening to me?" she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

I blinked, tearing my gaze away from Y/n reluctantly. "Uh, sorry, what were you saying?" I mumbled, my mind still lingering on the sight of Y/n with that unknown boy.

Hyein rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. "Never mind," she said, shaking her head. "You're impossible, Jungwon."

But I barely heard her words, my attention already drifting back to Y/n, the girl who occupied every corner of my mind and heart.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The sight of Y/n laughing with that boy, her eyes sparkling in a way I hadn’t seen in so long, made something snap inside me. I stood up abruptly, ignoring Hyein’s startled look and the noise of the cafeteria around me. My feet carried me towards Y/n with a single-minded determination.

“Jungwon, what are you doing? ”Hyein called after me, but her voice was drowned out by the pounding of my heart.

I reached Y/n’s table, my eyes locked on hers. Without thinking, I grabbed her arm, pulling her up to face me. She looked at me with a mixture of surprise and confusion, but before she could say anything, I leaned in and was about to press my lips on hers.

For a fleeting moment, the world stopped. It was everything I had imagined and everything I had wanted. This is it. But then, just as quickly, it shattered. Y/n pulled away immediately, her eyes wide with shock and hurt.

“Jungwon, no! ”She cried, her voice breaking as she wrenched herself free from my grip. She turned and ran, her movements a blur as she pushed through the crowd of students who had stopped to stare.

“Y/n, wait! ”I shouted, my voice desperate, but she didn’t stop. She ran out of the cafeteria, her steps echoing in the hallway.

I chased after her, calling her name, but she was too fast. By the time I reached the school’s entrance, she was already on her bike, pedaling away as if her life depended on it.

“Y/n, please! ”I yelled, but she didn’t look back. She rode off, disappearing down the street, leaving me standing there, breathless and alone.

Students around me were whispering, their eyes filled with shock and curiosity. I felt a wave of shame and regret wash over me, but it was too late. Y/n was gone, and I had no idea how to make things right. I fucked up again.

  Y/n

I could feel Jungwon's eyes on me during class, burning a hole in the back of my head. It was uncomfortable, and I found myself shifting in my seat, trying to focus on anything but his relentless gaze. By the time lunch rolled around, I was relieved to escape the classroom.

In the cafeteria, I sat down with my tray, picking at my food. A boy I didn't know very well approached me, striking up a conversation. I didn't catch his name, but his presence was a welcome distraction. He noticed the gloom on my face and made an effort to cheer me up, telling jokes and funny stories. For the first time in months, I felt a genuine smile form on my lips. It felt good, like a brief reprieve from the constant ache in my chest.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jungwon approaching. There was a determined look on his face that sent a chill down my spine. Before I could react, he was at my side, grabbing my arm and pulling me up from my seat.

His face was leaning close to mine. I realized that I was about to be kissed.

For so long, that had been my biggest dream. I had imagined it countless times, like a scene from the movies where the prince kisses the princess, sealing their love with a perfect moment. But not like this. Not in the middle of the cafeteria, with everyone watching, and certainly not when I was still hurting so much.

“Jungwon, no! ”I cried, pulling away from him. I ran as fast as I could, pushing through the crowd of students who had stopped to stare. I could hear Jungwon calling my name, but I didn't stop. I burst out of the school, my legs carrying me to my bike. I jumped on it and pedaled furiously, the wind whipping past my face as tears blurred my vision.

I rode straight home, my mind a whirl of emotions. I felt the hot sting of betrayal and confusion, mingled with the remnants of a love I had once cherished. When I reached my house, I ran to my room, slamming the door behind me. I threw myself onto my bed, the sobs coming in waves as I buried my face in my pillow.

For days, I locked myself in my room, coming out only to eat. I couldn't face the world, let alone Jungwon. The pain of everything was still fresh, and I needed time to heal. One day, though, my dad knocked on my door.

“Sweetheart, can you come to the living room and look by the window? ”He asked gently.

‘’Why?-‘’

‘’Please sweet girl?’’ he pleased softly from the door.

Reluctantly, I got up and walked to the living room, pulling back the window blinds. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Jungwon outside, digging a hole in the lawn. Confusion washed over me. What was he doing?

But then, I saw it. I recognized it instantly from its leaves and the shape of its trunk. He is planting a sycamore tree. Without thinking, I walked outside, my heart pounding.

  Jungwon

As I stood there looking at her, I couldn’t help but think back to the moment I first saw Y/n. We were just kids then, but even at that young age, something about her caught my attention. I remember sitting in the car and making eye contact with her. My heart ached at how beautiful she was and still is. She was and always would be my Y/n, my princess.

  —————

Y/n approached Jungwon, her eyes filled with curiosity and a glimmer of hope. “Do you need some help? ”She asked softly.

He nodded, and they both kneeled down to plant the tree. As she patted the soil around the roots, she felt his hand on top of hers. She looked up and met his gaze—those cute boba eyes she loved so much.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the world around them fading away. Jungwon broke the silence first, his voice filled with emotion. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for everything. I want to make up for everything that I did, starting with the tree. I love you, my princess. I always have.”

A smile spread across her face, tears welling up in her eyes. “I love you too, my prince.”

He took a deep breath, hope flickering in his eyes. “Can I kiss you? ”

She nodded, and they both leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

It was everything she had ever dreamed of—the perfect moment that made all the pain and waiting worth it.

As they pulled away from the kiss, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the newly planted sycamore tree, as if the tree itself were celebrating their reunion. They both stood up, and Jungwon gently took Y/n's hand in his, leading her to the bench in her front yard. They sat down, still holding hands, their fingers interlaced.

"Remember when we were kids, and you always talked about sitting together in the tree?" Jungwon asked, his voice soft and full of nostalgia.

Y/n nodded, her eyes sparkling with memories. "I used to dream about sharing that view with you."

He squeezed her hand with a determined look in his eyes. "I want to create new memories with you, Y/n. Memories that make up for all the time we've lost. Can we start over together?"

She looked at him, feeling the sincerity in his words and seeing the love in his eyes. She then nodded as she smiled softly. "Let's start over."

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, talking and laughing; their hearts were lit with the promise of a new beginning. As the sun began to set, they stood up and admired the sycamore tree, its young leaves glowing in the golden light.

"This tree will grow strong and tall, just like our love," Jungwon said, wrapping his arm around Y/n's shoulders.

She leaned into him, feeling a sense of peace and happiness she hadn't felt in a long time. "And it will always remind us of today, the day we found our way back to each other."

As they stood there, watching the sun dip below the horizon, they knew that their future was bright, filled with love, hope, and countless new memories waiting to be made.

Y/n looked up at Jungwon, her heart swelling with affection. "Thank you for bringing the tree back. It means more than you know."

Jungwon smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I promise to never take you or anything you love for granted again. You are my everything, Y/n."

  The sycamore tree stood as a symbol of their renewed love and commitment, growing stronger and more beautiful with time, just like their relationship.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Venom To The Rescue- Venom/Eddie Brock x Reader

Summary: Venom comes to readers rescue when she’s harassed by John Walker

Word Count: 1, 710

CW: *does have a scene of sexual harassment so TW for that*

*Want to be tagged in any future Venom/Eddie fics? Click here*

The excess room in the transport van was much appreciated, as you, Eddie and Venom travelled to meet the famous Avengers. Eddie stayed with you for most of the journey, but Venom wanted to take over every now and then, complaining that he wanted to see you and that he was bored.

You knew the main reason for the van was to act as a somewhat transport cage for Venom, especially with the armed guards behind you and one in the passenger seat, but you understood.

Being with Eddie and Venom for the past two years and seeing what Venom could do, you completely understand peoples caution. Venom tried to act innocent and like he didn’t understand the need for armed guards, but he knew why, and you think deep down he was a little proud.

“Are we almost there?” Venom continued to complain.

“I think we’re pulling in now, Vee,” you smile sweetly and patiently at the large alien.

“Mr. Brock, it might be best for you to be the one to meet with the Avengers first,” the armed guard in front of you informed.

“What?! That’s not fair!”

The guards pulled their guns, and Venom smiled wide as he licked his fangs, obviously excited for a fight. You knew this was stressing Eddie out and that Venom could easily take these guys out, so to calm the situation you gently placed your hand on Venoms bicep.

“Hey, V, think of it this way, they see Eddie first and think it’s fine, and then when the times right you can make a big appearance, wowing and scaring everyone.”

You always knew how to stroke Venoms ego to make him behave.

“Very well,” he simply spoke as he let Eddie come back.

Seeing Eddie’s face and body once again, you both sighed a sigh of relief. Holding onto Eddie’s hand tightly, you see the van is slowing down and a woman in a professional looking pants suit and tablet is ready waiting for you.

Giving Eddie’s hand a last squeeze of encouragement, you both step out of the vehicle.

“You must be Eddie and Y/N, welcome to the Avengers headquarters. My name is Maria Hill, and I’ll be introducing you and ah- your friend to the team.”

Maria was sweet, although you could tell a little nervous. You and Eddie knew that the Avengers had seen lots of different and dangerous things, but it seems Venom is still a challenge for them.

Walking down the halls to the planned meeting area, Maria is pointing out different things about the building, where things are, what things do, who certain people are.

As you’re all about to step into the elevator together, you hear someone running over.

“Hey, hold the elevator!” You hear someone yell.

Turning around to look at who the voice belongs to, you notice it is no other than John Walker, aka Fake Cap, as you, Eddie and Venom call him. You knew you’d most likely encounter him today, and you all had to prepare each other to meet him, and be on your best behaviours.

“Ah, John good to see you,” Maria told him, obviously trying to hide a wince, “this is Eddie and Y/N. Eddie is a new potential recruit and Y/N is his partner.”

At hearing you were dating Eddie, something seemed to pass John’s eyes, a look of both intrigue and mischief, but whatever it was, it put you on edge.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he spoke only to you as he stepped into the elevator with you, a little close for your liking.

Eddie put his arm around your waist and you could hear Venom growl. Eddie and Venoms protection of you seemed to amuse him, as he smiled creepily, and his eyes leered at you.

Facing the doors for the rest of the lift ride, you could still feel John’s eyes on you the whole time. Eddie’s grip on you got tighter and tighter as you could tell he was trying to hold back Venom.

You comforted them as they protected you.

Walking into the large lab-like room, the rest of the team stood around an area that was no doubt designed for Venom to show himself. Venom had a crowd and a podium, this is exactly what your little drama queen wanted.

After Maria had introduced you to the anxious group of heros, you let go of Eddie and encouraged him to step forward.

While you watched Venom appear through Eddie, you tried to ignore the way John’s eyes obviously bore into you, as if he was studying your actions. Venom stood to full height and waved at you like a kid at a talent show, your wave back seemed to interest John as his stare became even more intense.

Luckily for everyone, Venom was a little too busy showboating to notice how close John now stood to you.

“Alright, Vee, I think that’s enough, sweetheart, time to bring Eddie back,” you called to him as you could see he was getting a little too excited.

Being with both Eddie and Venom could be challenging sometimes, especially when Venom acted like a toddler, but you knew there was more to him than that. You knew how to wrangle him in, and he knew how to make you laugh and look after you.

The team seemed almost amazed that you could bring him back so easily, but the amazement quickly turned to relief as Eddie appeared again. Everyone parted for Eddie to stand beside you, except for Maria, who had most likely practised keeping her cool, this kid Peter who was more excited then scared, and of course, John.

“Alright well, if it’s alright with you Y/N, we’d like to talk with Eddie in private now. Please feel free to wait in the common room I showed you and we’ll come get you once we’re finished.”

You felt a little worried to leave your boys alone, but you made sure to give Eddie a comforting hug and whisper a stern ‘behave’ into Eddie’s ear, before you left.

********

The common room was nice, it was about midway up the tower with large glass windows to see all over the city. After such a long trip it was to your delight that the room was empty, so you could have any of the big comfy couches all to yourself.

Once you made yourself a drink from one of the fancy machines in the kitchen area, you got yourself comfortable and began to read with your warm drink.

It seemed the meeting with Eddie was taking longer than you thought it would, as you finish a chapter and your drink. Standing up you decide to go back to the kitchen to get a cool drink of water. Unfortunately as you turn toward the kitchen however, you almost run into John.

Seeing him alone, and now standing so close, you try your best to calm your breathing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the meeting?” You asked, trying your best to sound pleasant.

Instead of answering, he simply gave you a sly shrug and smile, as he pushed you against a table, trapping you between it and him.

“What the fuck, John?”

You try your best to shove him off, but it’s no use. Looking into his eyes with fear, his stare only appears predatory as one of his hands rests on your hip.

“What? You’re not gonna call me ‘sweetheart’ like you did with the monster? Hmm? Pretty thing like you dating both a man and a monster. What Brock not man enough for you? Need a monster to fuck you too? You really are a kinky little bitch. I like that.”

You were petrified, frozen in fear, as you prepared for him to kiss or grab you, but it never came. Instead you feel his body weight leave yours, and you see him thrown around the room.

Venom lets out a loud growl as he pinned him against the wall by his neck.

“How dare you speak to her like that! How dare you touch her!”

Still frozen from shock, you can’t move to stop him, and it seems like none of the rest of the team want to do anything either. John thrashes about in Venoms grip, and the team look like they’re trying to work out if and how to save him.

“This guys growing on me, I say we let him join,” Bucky laughs to Sam, everyone’s attention on Venom and not you.

Sam simply rolls his eyes at his friend and groans, realising he’s the one who has to stop all this.

“Alright, I think he’s had enough, big guy.”

You knew Sam wouldn’t be enough to stop him, and you didn’t want someone innocent being hurt by Venom.

“Venom!” You finally find your voice and call out.

You try to think of more to say, but as he and Eddie look at your trembling form, it’s enough for him to stop.

“My sweet,” Venom strides over to you, with each step he turns back into Eddie.

“Let’s get you outta here, sweetheart,” Eddie’s hand comes up to gently stroke your cheek.

“Um huh hmm, Eddie and Y/N, if you’d like to follow me, I can show you to a room for you to stay for the night,” Maria awkwardly interrupted, attempting to soothe the situation.

As if in a numb state, you simply followed Eddie while he gently drags you along. You seem to zone out the whole trip there, until you hear a buzz of your door opening.

“Come on, baby. Get you into bed and I’ll hold you.”

Eddie gently pulls you into the room, and begins to make you comfortable. Sweetly laying you down on the double bed, he takes off your shoes and socks, pulls the covers over you and crawls into bed on the other side of you.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he gentle coaxes as he opens his arms.

The second you lay on his warm chest, a floodgate of tears fall down your face, and the fear and anxiety hits you all at once.

“I’m sorry, baby. We love you so much,” Eddie coos as he rocks you, safe in his arms.

[sscieloz]

Live your life

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: It’s been less than a year since the band Aespa was created. Karina, Minjeong, Giselle and Ningning travel all over the country with nothing but a few gigs, little money and much love for the music. They’re far from superstars, and still don’t have a lot to offer. Besides, there’s something they can’t quite grasp: why you, the band’s most faithful fan, follows them without even questioning.

Warnings: lots of plot w a little bit of smut in the end, as alwayss.

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: I tried following the MV in chronological order and I’m kinda proud w the way it turned out ˆˆ I had lots of fun writing it so I hope you have fun reading it too!! Also I ❤️ you band!aespa let me be your fucktoy I can take the four of you. and not in a fight (probably in a fight too).

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

—

“Is this legal?” Ningning asks, hugging the straps of her backpack. She tilts her head up to grasp at the place that would make their stay for this week of competition, its grand walls of concrete leaving her in awe.

You’ve been wiser this time: the cache of the band’s last performance made it possible for them to buy a roof rack for your brother’s— now basically theirs— van, which provided much more space for equipment and luggage. 

“Not really.” The four of you say, in unison. With a deep sigh, you grab your belongings and walk towards the huge stairs that precede the nearly-abandoned place. 

“It used to be a bathhouse,” Karina tells the maknae, holding her by the shoulders as they walk forward in hopes of making her less uneasy. “But now they use it as a vintage, low-cost hostel, or whatever. It’s always cramped during these times of the year, so we’re safe Ningnie. Don’t worry.” 

The bathhouse is huge, although its dirty façade announces it’s been long since the place served its initial purpose. Grass grows around their feet, nearly disappearing into the wild, and there’s a great amount of dirt clinging to their shoes in the parking lot. Three floors are presented in front of them in all of their grandness, in a structure so massive the place could be misguided as a shopping mall. 

Ningning gulps, although she doesn’t look relaxed in the slightest. Going up so many flights of stairs leaves you breathless, resting your hands on your knees as soon as you reach the entry lounge. The inside of the building is much different from what you expected: it’s filled with warm lights, and most importantly, it’s packed. Young people storm from side to side, hanging out in the corners or walking in rushed paces. The mixed voices bring a lively vibe to the open area, and you smile as you watch comforting chaos unravel. Such noise is enough proof that you're here: the girls are actually going to perform in the most important music competition in the country. 

A hand on your shoulder grabs your attention as you reach for your camera, itching to record every second of the journey. Ningning’s voice makes you look up amidst getting lost searching for it in the middle of your stuff.

“Y/n.” She calls for you, staring at the ground to avoid making eye contact. Her shoulders are pressed downwards, announcing a hesitant posture much unlike herself. You hum in response, acknowledging her while still looking through your backpack. “Is it ok if we room together, this time?” 

You watch as Ning brushes her hands repetitively, aware something’s wrong. Ningning might be the youngest of the band, but she’s usually mature, serious, and confident; It’s concerning to have her acting like that.

“Sure, unnie.” You smile at her, looking around as you squeeze her arm in hopes of offering her some reassurance. After making sure the other girls were busy with the check-in, and that there weren’t any eavesdroppers, you ask, “Are they back again? Have you been getting any sleep?”

Ningning’s nod, followed by a tired sigh, is enough of an answer. You know being so dependent on her friends bothers her deeply, even though you’ve told her countless times none of you mind. 

It’s well-known among the girls that Ning struggles with night terrors. Being an independent and strong-willed child made her extremely talented, but also very lonely. Ningning’s parents invested in her and sent her away from her hometown, Harbin before the age of 10. From then on, the maknae found herself all alone in Korea, pushing through an excruciating routine at a shitty entertainment company where people barely knew her name. She never spoke, at first because she didn’t know Korean at all— but also because people rarely talked to her; only urging her through events and evaluations like a doll.

Or better, more like a ghost. The loneliness clung to her bones, making its way through her soul until she wasn’t even sure who she was without it. 

Ever since then, her nightmares have kept her awake at night, trapped in a tangled mess of absurd dreams that deprive her of getting any rest. The hallucinations are so real she’s frequently urged out of sleep with a trembling body and heavy nausea, rushing to the nearest bathroom in complete panic.

Thankfully, not sleeping by herself is something Ningning found to be of much help, even if just a bit. So the girls take turns holding the youngest member close in their arms until her body gives up to exhaustion, still trembling. 

That was before Ning had gotten it under control. With the help of a professional and her friends’ endless support, she eventually learned how to suppress her troubled thoughts. As months went by, her nightmares somehow did not scare her as much as they did when she was a little girl. 

Or so she thought. Asking for help meant things were not looking good at all, which set up an alarm in the back of your mind. 

You had to talk to Karina about it and let the leader know. Out of the three girls, she was the most protective of Ningning: the duo acted like sisters most of the time and had a tight bond. 

“We’ll get rid of those nasty monsters, Ningie.” You tell her, resting your arm on her shoulders as you walk side by side to the elevator. “Fuck them. I’ll personally beat their asses for disturbing our little princess’s sleep.” 

Ningning’s laugh fills up the small corridor, and as she clings to your body, you’re reminded of how small she is. The maknae trusts you; it’s something you feel in the way she reaches out for your embrace, allowing herself to be vulnerable even if not for long. 

“So,” Karina says, staring at the four of you with a serious face. “I know we all want to enjoy the festival too, and we absolutely should. But it’s late, and it’s a week-long competition, so I say we take it easy and rest today.” 

The leader's words reverberate through the elevator, her assertive tone leaving it clear that it was a rather strong-willed suggestion as you all nod. 

“We’ve worked hard for this opportunity.” Minjeong agrees, leaning onto the big mirror that gave the impression that the elevator was much bigger than its actual size. “Let’s not fuck it up. We can have fun later anyway.” 

“Our first performance is tomorrow, but we have a bunch of interviews scheduled before that. We must be well prepared and rested.” Giselle adds, while they get onto their floor and start walking toward their assigned rooms. 

Somehow, the girls always manage to get caught up with something just minutes before getting in the car for their road trip, which meant you arrived later than expected. At nearly 4 AM, everyone was tired, even though the adrenaline of being part of something as big as The Box was enough for them to be a bit jumpy, eyes darting around to capture everything dimmed possible. 

The rooms were better, this time: there wasn’t any dust and the place looked fairly comforting, compared to the last place you stayed at. You drop your backpack and your small suitcase onto the ground without much care.

“Goodnight, cuties. See you in the morning.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes as you throw yourself on the bed, extra tired from being the designated driver for the entire journey. Giselle, Winter, and Karina wave faintly, too, making their way to their room at a quick pace. 

Ningning smiles and watches as you stretch yourself, exhausted. She’s quick to drop her stuff and pull her single bed, although it doesn’t move further than an inch. “Y/n… help me join the beds, please?” 

“Right, right. Of course.” With some effort, the two of you manage to move the two beds together into the center of the room, and you relax for a bit while Ningning occupies the bathroom. The soft sheets that welcome your face are much different from the leather seats of your car, and the change is well welcomed— so much you let out a deep sigh, relieved now that you’re finally able to relax. 

After changing into your pajamas, you stare at the ceiling and you wait for Ningning to hop out of the shower and join you in bed before falling asleep yourself. However, the last thing your mind registers are the soft sounds of Yizhuo’s shower before sleep takes over your body and you lose a short-lived battle to unconsciousness. 

—

Life is anything but peaceful when you give up a normal, ordinary life to live off of music. Not that it’s a bad thing: if anything, the thrill of not having a routine grants to the girls a type of freedom that only comes with art. 

That’s all Karina can think about as the five of you hang out at a big, open field. There’s a fence where you and Ningning sit, and the cool breeze messes up her long, pitch-black hair. More than freedom, the leader’s chest also burns with a deep sense of accomplishment. 

Within a blink, she’s at the bathhouse’s rooftop and this time her bandmates chat lively by the place’s enormous sign. It’s late, and a different kind of unsettlement takes place inside her rebel heart this time, one Karina feels deep in her bones.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to dwell much: her senses prove to be right almost immediately when they’re struck by a sea of shooting stars. They fly by so fast Karina barely sees them, making their way through with such strength she’s pushed onto the ground. There’s only enough time for her to grab a single star, grasping the small light within her hands as strongly as she can. 

But just as fast as it happened, the storm is gone. Karina looks up to talk to you and the girls about it, but you’re nowhere to be seen. She frowns, realizing she’s left all alone, under the darkness of a starless sky. 

That’s when she wakes up: breathless, trembling badly as she grabs her neck in hopes of making more air run through her lungs. Despite the cool night, her body is drenched in sweat. Yet, the oldest member can’t help but sigh in relief once she looks up beside her and finds Minjeong peacefully asleep. The leader looks to the other bed, where Giselle’s faint snores can be heard, her mouth hanging slightly open as saliva drools onto the bassist’s pillow.

Karina’s safe. She’s with her girls, in the comfort of their room. 

Yet the loneliness she felt still echoes through her body, hurting enough to draw small tears from her eyes before she acknowledges it. It had been such an empty moment… to look up and not see any of the people she loved and cherished deeply. 

It’s something Karina decides she never wants to feel again. 

“Mhm…” Minjeong stirs, her eyes half open as she stretches her arms out. Karina’s noises probably woke her up— the girl has never been a deep sleeper anyway. “What are you doing awake?” 

A few seconds go by, and Karina stays silent. The answer comes when the blonde is almost falling asleep again, so low Minjeong thinks she’s imagining it. “You left me there, all alone. All of you.” 

“We… who?” Minjeong’s voice is scrappy with confusion. She looks at the leader, scratching her head as she watches Karina get up. “Why would we do that? We’re literally right here, unnie.”

Minjeong’s attempts to understand her friend fail. If anything, she’s bluntly ignored by Karina, who shakes Giselle gently until she manages to get the Japanese girl up, although clearly in a zombie-like state, still barely conscious. 

The weather was still a bit hot by the time they arrived, so the girls agreed to leave the old, arched windows open for the night. Now, the wind had messed up the leader’s wavy hair, and there were little eye-bags under her eyes from waking up so abruptly. As a result of such an intense dream, Karina’s lips trembled and her body lacked its usual strength, which was noticeable by her limp arms. She looks fragile, clearly disturbed by a train of thoughts echoing inside her mind. 

And the way the leader stares at Minjeong so helplessly… It’s the reason why she doesn’t question when Karina offers her hand to help the blonde out of bed, in complete silence. One that remains until the leader unlocks your and Ningning’s room with her spare card, walking onto the bed with light steps— as if she was taken by the wind itself. 

Your bedroom is not as big as theirs, and the improvised bed is still rather small, but Karina makes it fit. Her hand is keen on Giselle’s back, urging the girl back to bed as the leader lies her down once again. Like in a puzzle, Minjeong squeezes herself between your arched back and Ning’s body, careful to not wake up either of you. 

“Feeling better?” She asks Karina, who watches the scene with a small smile. Minejong’s heart is filled with warmth at the girl’s pretty face, as she closes her eyes once again. 

“Much better.” The vocalist murmurs, calm and collected. Being tangled with her girls at one of the country’s most successful music events is enough to dissipate her previous loneliness. There’s nothing else she needed but the four of you. “I’m no longer alone, now.” 

She’s safe.

—

The Box is an event created for Companies from all over the country to show off their assets and make as much profit as possible—and they make sure to capitalize on every second of it, which is as much of a burden as it is an opportunity for its participants. The girls had interviews, outfit changes, and makeup booths provided by sponsors, guaranteed as long as they shot commercials and launched a few good words about their brands. 

Held in a big, open area, the place brings goosebumps to Karina’s stomach, reminiscing too much of her dream as the same clouds wind on the sky, blocking the sun’s path. Just as she had done moments prior, you look up too, frowning. The lack of light makes the day seem gloomier than usual, and a single droplet of rain would result in an atrocious, muddy day. 

And that would be a disaster, for sure.

“So,” After recording the stage they’d perform at in just a few hours, you turn around and nearly shove your camera on Giselle’s face. “Enlighten us, Gigi: why is the festival named The Box if the main stage is actually a big fucking losangle?” 

Giselle’s tone is condescending as she adjusts her perfectly arranged bangs, giving you a dirty look before answering. “Y/n, my love.” She redirects the camera to capture both of your faces, smearing your cheek with her lip gloss. “You just have to accept some things: like the weather, time… and The Box’s setup. It’s how it’s always been, so let’s not dwell on that matter, okay? Thanks.” 

“Very well, then. You heard her.” You nod back at the camera, capturing the massive stage for a few more seconds before pausing the recording. 

Giselle’s passive-aggressiveness was one of her hottest traits, and you loved to watch her boss people around. Which she always made sure of doing, whenever she had the chance to.

The Japanese girl giggles at your words, nudging you gently. Not much further from you, Karina and Ningning stand in a big line to try some popular dish. You wave to them, and Giselle straightens her posture, following your stare with a grunt. 

“So, you and Jimin, huh.” She asks, plucking at the grass with her shoes. It’s obvious she’s trying her best to sound nonchalant and not make a big deal out of it.

It was no secret that you were devoted to Karina, surrendering yourself with as much as a whisper from her. Still, it was amusing to you how shy Giselle seemed with her question. Her hesitation was sweet, so cute it draws a smile from your face. 

“Oh… well, yeah.” You shrug, not at all ashamed. “She needs someone to warm up her bed.” You eye Giselle attentively, studying the older girl’s body language before adding, “I can help you with that too if you’d like. I know Jimin unnie wouldn’t mind.”

Your answer catches her off guard, her eyes wide from your straightforwardness. You’re nearly teasing her for being so shocked when she laughs, shaking her head. It’s Giselle, after all: the girl has such a flirty nature you’d be surprised if she didn’t give you a run for your money. 

“We’ll see... You’re sure one of a kind, Y/n. That you are.” She answers, with a sultry tone before gently squeezing your arm and vanishing from your sight. 

That is enough for you. The Japanese girl’s gorgeous looks and confident nature make her so desirable and hot— truly an it girl, often leading the group to try out new music styles and different types of choreographies. Giselle is always pushing herself outside her comfort zone. 

It’s good that she knows you’re also willing to try anything she’d like, too. 

Brushing that subject off your mind, you take some time to dive into the festival, just as curious as the girls were: the place is still beautiful, despite the weather. Its lively atmosphere is enchanting, and there is so much happening: from bands singing on minor stages to dance performances not much further from where you stand. Everyone seems eager to participate, and you’re just as excited to watch everything at once.  

This event is also a great opportunity for you, considering you’re still attending university— hoping to major in Media Arts in two years or so. Even though you spend most of the time following the girls around, your passion for filmmaking and photography is also one of the reasons you’re so committed to recording everything your eyes meet. You plan on making this documentary into your final presentation of the year and submitting it to one of your main classes. 

So you record everything: making a full turn to capture your entire experience. You’re so committed to your task that you don’t even notice Minjeong’s frame behind you, the blonde girl not making an effort to move such thing as an inch from out of your way. 

The two of you collide with each other so roughly you have to hold onto the girl’s tiny frame with your free hand to prevent her from a having dirty fall.  Minjeong gives you an ugly look, impatiently wiping the dirt from her plaid skirt. She’s judgy, as always— not a day goes by where the blonde doesn’t give you a hard time.

Although you weren’t exactly peaceful to her, either. 

“Do you ever wear a bra?” She mumbles, annoyed. Minjeong’s fingers press the tip of her nose bridge and she closes her eyes as if dealing with you was enough to drain all of her energy. 

“Why are you looking anyway?” You’re quick to snap back, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Choosing comfort over fashion was something you’d always do, and today was no different. Your look for the day was rather basic, but perfect for someone who’d be walking around the entire time: a pair of jeans and a plain white tank top that made your Aespa badge visible to anyone who took a quick look at you. However, that little show of Winter has made the dirt that clung onto the fabric attract attention to your breasts, highlighting the way your pierced nipples peeked through. It had only been a few weeks since you and Giselle got them done, so you were still a bit hypersensitive.

Not that you minded, anyway. Minjeong would be a jerk regardless of that: the blonde made her life’s purpose to annoy the shit out of you, and she’s very committed on doing so.

Proving your point, Winter scoffs, all annoyed.

“You always make this shit on purpose, don’t you?” You stare at her, confused, and it seems like she’s had enough. Rolling her eyes, Minjeong brushes past you, nearly dragging you by the shoulders as she stomps away. “Whatever. Whore.”

Minjeong is so rude. Undeniably so, with an insanely stubborn temper. Her mood changes quickly, and it is hard to tell if she genuinely hates you or if it is just some kind of playful banter.

Not that you cared much, honestly. There were many important things for you to worry about, like the amazing festival happening at the moment. You’d deal with that nightmare of a girl some other time. 

Instead of allowing the petite blonde to disturb your mind, you decide to walk around by yourself too— despite preferring to be surrounded by the girls at all times, it felt good to be on your own.

You were deeply committed to making a masterpiece out of your clips. If the work you handed in was good enough, then perhaps your professor would overlook the number of absences on your attendance sheet and give you a nice grade. 

After walking around for a few minutes, a certain stage catches your attention: the structure is small and curiously held like a boxing ring, where nine girls sing and dance in beautiful harmony. The space is so far from the center of the festival its last rounds of chairs nearly drag onto the woods that surround the place. 

The girls performing are all dressed in dark pants, white crop tops, and black ties, and they’re incredibly in synch while still making complicated moves. Their voices are sweet, and so is the music that flows to your ears: it’s a cover of one of your favorite songs, KARA’s Mr.

Your eyes go straight to the sign that hangs in front of the stage, looking for said group’s name. Thankfully, it’s easy to find, both in Hangul and Romanized.

Fromis9.

The nine girls’ bright stage presence fills up the area, and it amazes you how coordinated they are, not one outshining the other despite being so many. No lines are stolen in the song; instead, they add to each other beautifully, reminding you of your girls. The contrast is fascinating, from Aespa’s four-member band to those strangers, who sing cheerful songs like this will be the last happy summer of their lives. 

You’re enchanted by them, truthfully. Not only talented, the girls seem genuinely sweet, as they spin and jump around to hype up the dead crowd. And oh, they’re stunning: each one with striking features, ones that surely seem like they’ve been taken straight out of a fairytale. 

You make sure to record their entire performance, as well as the little playful moments reserved for interacting with their fans and supporters. Soon enough, the song ends, leaving the group breathless but happy. You watch as the girls bow and take turns passing small water bottles around, tired from giving their all on stage. 

A few of them start a small discourse, although you don’t pay enough attention to grasp the meaning of their words. You’re too busy staring at one of them instead, hiding behind your camera so she doesn’t see how enamored you are. 

The girl is small, but her slim waist and toned muscles announce she must spend most of her free time at the gym. An energetic pink-haired girl clings to one of her arms, providing a clear contrast to her long, pitch-black hair, but she doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest: if anything, she hugs the energetic girl back, laughing and she twirls her friend around.

Luckily for you, there’s a big paper clasped in front of her shirt, just like every artist who is currently performing and competing at The Box. You search for her name with expectation, just like you’ve done with her group’s name.

Hers say, Saerom. 

A beautiful name for an enchanting girl. 

However, it’s her face that surprises you the most. She’s beautiful, of course— stunningly so, but so is everyone at this festival: something expected for a place with such a high concentration of artists, models, and people in the entertainment industry in general. But as you look into her high cheekbones and sharp jawline, you’re surprised to find such kind eyes staring back at you. Saerom’s eyes provide her soft, almost ethereal look as she nods to you. It’s a faint action, one a distracted eye would barely notice once she moved back to the middle of the stage with her bandmates, yet you’d never miss it. There’s no way she wouldn’t stand out, despite her plain outfit. 

You could stare at her for hours. 

Although you’re incapable of doing so: in a blink, steady hands grab your camera, and your arms are urged down so fast you nearly let it fall on the ground. Nothing disastrous happens, thanks to your steady grip and good reflex, but your vision is blocked by a serious Karina, fuming as she stares angrily at you. 

“What are you doing, Y/n?” The leader’s cocky, angry voice is something you only hear when she’s feeling intimidated or when she wants to be petty, which is unusual for the occasion. Why would she be so defensive towards you?

Karina usually yaps her heart out until your ears hurt from her complaints. It’s a normal thing for her to do, whenever she’s pissed. However, she doesn’t say anything this time, clearly waiting— demanding an explanation. 

So you lift your camera, playfully poking her in a failed attempt of easing the tension hanging in the air. “I’m making The Box’s documentary as my final presentation.” You stay on your tiptoes, trying to get a hold of the view Karina is blocking so confidently, but it’s useless by now: the performance is over, and the Fromis9 members have already retreated backstage. “For that class I told you about, remember?”

Karina rolls her eyes, ignoring your explanation as she directs you in the opposite direction. With a resolute tone, she brushes off the matter. “Whatever. Listen, Y/n: you should only focus on us, your band. There’s no need for you to look at anyone else.”

Oh, Karina’s fuming. It’s easy to tell, from the way she refuses to meet your face to the red that paints her cheeks. You giggle, enjoying her subtle possessiveness. 

Truth be told, you thrived on being reassured just as much as the girls did. The only difference was that you made an immense effort to hide how much it aroused you, well aware they’d use it as an advantage. 

Besides, there was a bit of truth behind her words: the girls were the only ones you truly felt connected to; they were yours just as much as you were theirs, and you didn’t feel like you needed to meet new people.

“Of course, Jimin unnie.” You nod, walking next to her as you turn your camera off and place it back in your backpack. “Aespa is the only band worth looking at, anyway.” 

Karina blossoms under your praise, smiling brightly as she kisses you gently, her irritation gone. “Good girl. Now let’s go to the main stage. There are only two hours until our performance, and the girls are starting to get ready.” 

You’d like to tease her back a bit, but now wasn’t the time. Not when the band’s nerves were all over the place, nervous they’d fuck up the opportunity of their lives. No, you wouldn’t do such a thing. You’d be their anchor, peace, and most faithful supporter as you always were, ready to remind the girls of their true potential. 

With that, you and Karina walk back to the main stage with synchronized steps, and the moment with Saerom is brushed off to the back of your mind.

You've probably imagined the entire thing, anyway. There was nothing to wonder. 

—

“Hello, girls. Are you Aespa?” The staff asks, entering the room with his eyes glued to the list in his hands. After the five of you nod, he adds, with a comforting smile, “You’re on in 30. Come after you finish your makeup and clothes so we can start the soundcheck and set up your microphones.”

With another nod, you fall into a nervous silence once again. The girls have waited for this opportunity for so long; the crowd’s heated screams could be heard from where you stood, only adding to the girl’s expectations. It was the first time they performed in front of so many people, let alone at such a big and renowned festival. 

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Giselle mumbles, softening her necklace as if it were suffocating her. Her breaths were uneven, and her eyes were fixated on the ground. 

Karina smiles softly at the girl. As the leader, she knows it’s her duty to look composed and relaxed, to tranquilize her bandmates. “You’re not going to throw up, Gigi. You just need some air. Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

The leader grabs Giselle by the arm, urging her up. As they go through the door, Ningning rushes to follow their steps. 

“I need to breathe too.” She gulps, not even sparing you a glance as she runs to catch up with her friends. 

The nerves were striking, and they needed to look composed so they’d give their all on stage, as always.

You and Minjeong were the only ones left backstage, which allows you to take some time to study her better. The blonde sits perfectly still on the couch, with a rigid posture and hands clasped tightly on her lap. She looks composed, almost bored, as she always does— but you know her better. 

Minjeong’s muscles are visibly tense, and her left leg bounces so much you’re afraid it’s going to be chopped off from her body. She’s usually so composed, rarely giving a fuck about anything in her life. Whatever it was, the most Minjeong would do was roll her eyes at it or give it a nasty, rude response. Nothing else.

Seeing her bottle up her feelings like that is something that leaves you deeply uncomfortable. The way she deals with her emotions is none of your business of course, and it’s not like she ever talks about how she’s feeling with anyone anyway. 

Minjeong rarely talks about herself; not to you or her bandmates. She’s simply someone very private when it comes to that matter. It’s something the blonde struggles with— understanding and acknowledging her emotions are not things that come to her naturally, so Minjeong would often carry her burdens alone until the feelings get so heavy she explodes, taking it off on someone who has nothing to do with whatever it is she’s going through. 

Although it surprises you to see how deeply caring the girl can be. Minjeong, who knows Karina loves apple-flavored candy and sorts them out for her leader, even though they all think it’s gross. Minjeong, whose personal space is sacred, allows Ningning to be as clingy as she wants, aware the maknae longs for physical contact after being deprived of it so much as a child. Minjeong, who is the most competitive person you’ve ever met, but lets Giselle beat her at deck games whenever they notice the Japanese girl is feeling down. 

Minjeong, who despises you thoroughly, but snuck a new SD card into your purse after seeing you struggle with your camera for a few days. 

You didn’t want her to make her big debut feeling like a nervous wreck. She needs to relax, and not be so tense otherwise she won’t do good in her performance. 

And you know just what to do. 

With a sigh, you drop your hand from the doorknob and turn to her, leaning on the wall to take a better look at Winter. 

“You’re nervous.” You state, smirking at the sight of her face growing red—the blonde girl, usually so collected… oh, how she hates to be caught. 

Most importantly, Minjeong hates how you can always see right through her. 

“Well no shit, Sherlock.” 

Walking towards her with small, unhurried steps, you sit right next to her, crossing your legs as you lean onto her.

“I can help you with that.” You whisper to her, staring at her mouth. “Do you trust me?”

Minjeong scrunches her nose but doesn’t move away. Her answer, however, comes immediately— not an ounce of hesitation coming from her mouth. “Not at all.”

“Good.” You cup her face. “Wise girl.”

Leaning in, you capture Minjeong’s lips in a messy kiss. Despite her fiery personality, she tastes sweet, and you savor the strawberry essence of her lip gloss. Kissing Minjeong is addictive, yet you can’t seem to get enough of her. You lick her lips and devour her until your lungs scream for air, and the two of you get off each other when there’s no air and you’re both left desperate and breathless. 

Minjeong’s blonde hair flows freely, her scrutinizing stare forgotten the moment the two of you got so close your breaths entwined. For a moment, you don’t do anything but stare at each other, as you look for any signs of what she’d like to do next. You’re nearly sure she’d tell you to get lost until she grabs your neck and pulls you close, kissing you for the second time. 

“You’re completely insufferable, Y/n.” She murmurs in between the kiss as her thumb brushes down your neck. Even though there’s a faint pressure, her touch is almost soothing, urging you down to your knees. “Now, do more.”

You’re more than eager to follow her wishes, urging her pants and underwear down in a swift motion. Minjeong’s pussy is so pretty, all pink, swollen, and glistening, and you lick your lips with anticipation. The blonde girl lies comfortably on the couch as she spreads her folds with two of her fingers— showing herself to your hungry gaze.

“How do I look right now, Y/n?” Her tone is drenched with mockery as you squeeze her thighs, drawing a shiver from her. Your hands trace tiny circles on her milky skin, and you choose to ignore her; too focused on her beautiful body on display for you. 

Minjeong’s free hand goes to grip your hair, annoyed by your lack of response. “Fine, then. Do you want to know how you look?” 

Her malicious smile, much different from her delicate features, is what makes you shiver at her concentration. Giving her thighs faint bites, you ask, “Enlighten me, Minjeong.” 

“Like a whore.” Her grip tightens and you can’t help but bite harder this time. “Hey! See, I’ve always said you’re just a cheap who—“

Minjeong is silenced by your warm tongue on her pussy, licking a big stripe of her sex, as you go all the way up to suck on her clit as well. Her high-pitched moans are like music to your ears, and you take turns sucking her sensitive bud and letting out some lewd, loud sounds as you nearly make out with her pussy. 

“Do you want my fingers, pretty girl?” You mumble, staring at her through your lashes. 

Minjeong looks like a painting, beautiful with her mouth half-opened and a thin cover of sweat covering her brows. She nods frantically, urging you even closer.

Greedy, that’s what she is.

“Yes, please.” It’s the first time you’ve ever seen use her manners, so you’re quick to comply. “Fuck, Y/n…” 

Two of your fingers enter her cunt without any resistance as you thrust hard and fast. She bucks her hips to add to the stimulation, and you’re graced with the glorious view of her abs, thankful she chose a tiny crop top for the day. You want to see her tits, too, but it’s not like you’re in any position to demand anything— not while Minjeong uses you as a toy, rocking onto your mouth as her moans grow louder and louder. 

You feel her walls tensing up, and her toes curl as she tells you, “Y/n, I’m going t—“

“Cum for me, Minjeongie.” You give her clit one last, harsh suck, as her breathing becomes even quicker. “That’s it, let go.”

Minjeong follows your commands, reaching her orgasm with a high-pitched moan as she squeezes your head in between her thighs. Her body trembles from the stimulation, and you keep your fingers inside her walls until she’s calmed down enough that her screams are reduced to heavy breaths. You lick her clean, then, careful to not touch her clit as you eat her out for a few other moments. 

What’s most surprising to you, though, is the delicacy in her touch as she urges you up, tasting herself on your lips. 

“Sweet.” She giggles, before grabbing your tank top and pushing you off her. Minjeong’s obsessed with oversized jeans, and her current ones look huge on her tiny waist as she takes her time with buttoning up. “I really needed that, Y/n. Thanks.”

You don’t bother to hide a cocky smile as you nod, shrugging. 

“You’re going own that fucking stage today, Minjeong. All of you.” It’s what they were born to do. There isn’t a slight possibility of them not doing their absolute best on stage.

“I know.” Minjeong looks around, bouncing back and forth with her hands on her jeans’ back pocket. After a pause, she adds, with a quiet tone, “You’re going to be there, right? At the front row. Recording and all. It’s one of the only things you’re useful for anyway.” 

You smile, understanding the hidden meaning behind her bored tone. “Of course, I will, dumbass. I’ll be there with you, as always.”

You’d always be there for your girls: cheering, supporting, or helping the band with anything they needed. 

Karina, Ningning, Giselle, and Minjeong were not sure of when you became such an important figure in their lives, but there was something they all agreed on: they’ve grown too fond of you now. It was impossible to let you go. 

Not that you had any intentions of leaving their side, anyway. 

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

Crazy over you x Min Yoongi

[HYBRID AU]

FINAL

18+

The last bite

Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Bunny Hybrid, Hoseok/assistant.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior.

Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.

SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

Authors Note: okay that’s a lot to unpack here!! First of all, I’m sorry for any grammatical errors, second I hope you guys like the last bite of this story, truly I cannot thank you guys enough for waiting and being here with me in this journey!! Let me know what you all think in the comments and see you guys!! 💖

🩸My master list 🩸

< Previously

……………………………………………………………………………….

Everything felt so unreal ever since we left the clinic. I had went through all the documents already, Jin and me signed all the forms for Yoongis adoption and we had already meet before taking our leave.

I couldn’t believe it even tho me and Jin were heading to my new apartment, taking the snake hybrid to my home where he would live for the rest of his life from now on. With Jin being his brother he wanted to be in charge of the entire process - and he wanted to see Yoongi finally free and in a comfortable home. I was glad Jin was there the whole time, i felt like i could lean on him if i felt nervous and i was only able to carry on with this process because of him.

We exchanged many smiles on the way, both of us shared the same fellings of excitement right now. Yoongi was in a different car behind us to accommodate him better, the white van was spacious and was safer for him to be transported to his destination.

It has been two weeks since i finished setting my knew apartment and making new adjustments to ensure it would be a comfortable environment for a hybrid Snake to live in, things i never once considered for myself i was now buying for him. I felt so nervous about the whole situation i made the decision to get a new place entirely for him, i feared my old small apartment would feel like a cage for him and immediately stared looking for a new place for us. This time he would have his own room, the apartment was simple but spacious i made very clear that a bigger place was a must when I meet with the agent.

I took some time off my work so I could be there for the first few weeks with Yoongi and help him adapt, I knew that with drastic changes he would be at his most sensitive moment for him and I was glad to have Jin by my side. He was so polite with everything, I couldn’t ask for a better friend and on top of that Yoongi was his brother. I could trust him and so could Yoongi.

When we had started the adopting process, Jin finally decided to talk things out with Yoongi and come clean about being his brother. It was a lot to unpack for Yoongi and unfortunately he didn’t liked the facts that much but, they’ve been trying. It wasn’t going to be an easy or quick thing to fix, I can’t blame Yoongi too. He has been living his whole life alone without family and now Jin appears to be his brother, both males were mature enough to know better then push a relationship they never had.

So far I knew they’ve been doing their best at being friends with each other, but they still need time.

When the car stopped in front of the building, my heart was almost coming out of my chest I felt an immense pressure the entire drive but even now it was like I was about to burst in all directions.

I shared one look with Jin before the both of us got out of the car, the van parked right behind his. I made my way around it towards the back as the staff opened the back doors to get Yoongi out.

For safety reasons he had to be on his collar but other than that he was completely free.

The weather today was nice, I felt great knowing it.

I watched as Yoongi came out of the car on his own, eyes wide open watching every little thing around him in complete awe, the sun shined over him making his scales noticeably lighter. I reached my hand out for him, his eyes immediately turning to mine as he walked towards me.

I geve him a small nervous smile, he looked me up and down before closing his hand around mine. This was the first time we were seeing each other outside the clinic, the first time he saw me as just me. Not his doctor.

I couldn’t decipher what was going on in his mind in that moment, he had a neutral expression. But he kept looking at every corner of my face, maybe wondering if this was truly real. That he was here.

Jin walked right behind with us as we entered the building, no one said anything but the silence was comforting in a way.

As the elevator begin to go up Yoongi stood closer to me, hand sneaking around my waist making me turn to him to give him a smile. This time he shyly smiled back, looking down at our hands still intertwined. I have been thinking about how our lives would be from now, what we would do together and how it would feel to be so close to him everyday. At first i was nervous, it is something the two of us never experienced before and i kept thinking: this is much different then being with him as his doctor. That thought made me nervous, but now, as we stand so close to each other i don’t feel nervous anymore. I don’t have to be someone else with him and i can just be myself. Not long after the doors opened and we all left at the same time, a few feet away in that long corridor was my new apartment, I was excited for everything that would come after we cross that door.

Yoongi must’ve notice, because I felt his hold in my hand slightly tightened. Immediately feeling his presence putting my nervousness at ease as I looked up into his eyes, his thumb caressing over the back of my hand the whole time.

The door had a smart digital lock, it was fancy and i wasn’t used with that knowing how forgetful I could be at times I made sure to have the pass code writing inside my wallet and after pressing the password in it feeling the snake hybrid eyes fallowing my every move, the door opened.

I let both Jin and Yoongi get in first standing behind to close the door, while i put my things on the small table beside the shoe rack stealing glances at the two. I watch as the brothers look around the entrance room.

The living room was the biggest part of the apartment and as soon as I entered i’m welcomed by simple but modern atmosphere of the living room, the apartment had a glass wall and we could see the entire city from the living room. I catch Jin looking around amazed as Yoongi looks around the white couch running his hands over the fabric.

- this view is incredible - Jin said, turning to face me.

- please, Jin we both know your house is much bigger than mine - i said, walking up to him.

- yeah…. But i don’t have this view. Is almost like a 3D movie screen.

- I know right, I fell in love with it and I knew I had to get it - I tell him - at night is even more beautiful.

- I can imagine… - he says - you gotta invite me sometime for dinner sometime.

- oh yeah… besides Yoongi could use a friend- I said, pointing out were the hybrid has been this whole time.

My eyes instantly turning back to Yoongi, he seemed to be lost in thought looking around the room and touching everything. Anything i learned about snake hybrids is their sensitivity towards certain fabrics, their dopamine levels rise up around comfortable fabrics. Yoongi looked the happiest naked in a nest of velvet covers at the clinic, i still remember the day i wore a pencil black skirt with said fabric and he couldn’t stop touching it. With his words: it scratched a part of his brain he never knew. It was like giving catnip to a cat for the first time, for that reason i had to pick all the house furnitures very carefully. I can’t have a overstimulated snake hybrid walking around the apartment.

- what do you think? - I ask him, walking towards him - I change some things around for you and I also did some research for your room.

He didn’t answer at first, eyes shined brighter taking in every part of the room before focusing on me. He still wore the clinic uniform and it was hard to believe he was mine like that, i was eager to see him in the clothes I bought for him. I wanted for him to experience all of the world, things he was never able to before.

He was still probably processing everything that was going on in that moment, i knew for a fact that it would take some time for him to adapt fully to this new environment. He has a lot to learn.

- this all is just for us? - he softly asked, as if not believing - just us?

- yes, just you and me - I assured him, taking his hand in mine running my thumb over his knuckles - is our home.

He smiled, looking down to hide the soft shade of pink on his checks. Not being able to hold much longer I close my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug which he immediately fell into. Holding into me just as tight and almost tripping us over.

A sight of relief left my lips, he was finally free and he trusted me enough to be here with me. One thing about our clinic adoption process is mutuality, it has so many layers but the most important one is how both the hybrid and potential owners feel about each other. Once you apply for adoption, two meetings are required. One with the director and doctors of the hybrid and one with the hybrid, that way both parts get to know each other better. Not every clinic works this way, but now that Jin was fully in control of the clinic he made sure all the procedures regarding the hybrid’s adoption were done correctly and with much care.

Letting go of Yoongi slowly I pull him by the hand to the other side of the room, towards the kitchen.

- let’s continue the tour.. - I said, as the two fallow me.

I show him and Jin around the house properly, starting with the kitchen on the right side of the apartment, the dining table was what separated the living room from it, highlighted by the chandelier above the round dining table.

The laundry room was close to the kitchen, everything here was simple and neat. I didn’t try to get any extravagant items or forniture it hasn’t been long since I moved here anyway, and i wasn’t really a fan of colorful and expensive things. The apartment was minimalist but comfortable, although the apartment did came with a billiard table from the last owner.

On the left side of the apartment was where our rooms were in a small corridor after the space where the billiard table had been placed, in a place like this usually people would put a piano there but i was sure the last owner was a men. Who would leave a billiard table behind and put it in there?

- don’t tell me you got that? - Jin asked pointing out the said table, a tone of mischief on his voice as he stared at me with a grin.

- it came with the apartment… those things are expensive and as much as I’m the best when it comes to this game, I wouldn’t buy a pool table Jinnie - i said, the three of us stopped in front of the table.

- yeah, you wouldn’t…. But now you definitely need to envite me for dinner - he said, walking around the table.

- said the guy that literally has his own play ground at home - i tease.

- but i dont have you to lose to me there - he teased back.

- don’t go there… you know i never lose - i said.

We would continue on arguing jokingly, but i felt Yoongi pulling on my hand turning me fully towards him.

- what’s this game thing? - he asked, almost innocently but i saw how he would look behind me at Jin earning a chuckle from him.

They are brothers. And i was here thinking - more like hoping, praying for the gods - that his jealousy would disappear once he finds that out, but now both males keep getting on my nerves with that. Jin knows how possessive Yoongi gets and he teases his brother in every chance he gets, using that against him and then Yoongi does the same thing and so on i have to stand between the two as they carry on arguing about who’s the best and the list goes on. To think they both are adults.

- is a fun game… i’ll teach you when we are alone - i tell him, which earned me a smirk from the hybrid. I feared the game was his least priority once we’re alone.

With that i carry on the little tour on the last rooms of the house, first showing Yoongis room which was in front of mine. I made sure to get him a spacious bed with his favorite covers, the silk and velvet were a dream to sleep on he wasn’t wrong about that. So much i got those for my room as well.

- this is your room - I tell him, opening the door for him to enter - I made sure to make is as comfortable as possible but if there is anything you would like to add or change you can just tell me.

He stood in front of the king size bed, eyes roaming around every corner of the room attentively. I didn’t add much decoration for his room, not knowing what he would like i thought it would be better if he choose what he wants.

I watched him carefully wanting to catch all of his expressions, sharing a look with Jin who seemed to be just as excited as i was in that moment i could swear i saw tears under his eyes.

And i understand him, he was watching as his brother finally got a home of his own. Despite everything he got his brother the freedom he always deserved.

- I like it… - Yoongi said sitting over the bed.

I exchanged a smile with Jin, chuckling as the he turned to wipe the tears off his face and so on I continued with the last part of the tour.

[…]

…. 3 days later ….

I had made the decision to take a few weeks off from work to focus fully on accommodating Yoongi at home, it was something new for the both of us and I was so nervous at the beginning i didn’t get any sleep the first night but now that three days have gone by I felt like my nervousness was all for nothing.

Yoongi was adapting so well it was almost as if he had lived here his whole life, he learned so fast and without even asking for help. It was like watching a drama unfold right in front of me, I was there insisting on helping him at every second but all it took was one glance and he managed everything by himself, I thought the first days with him being in the same space as me would be the hardest ones but it was truly so peaceful. I was worried over nothing when it came to Yoongi, three days out of the clinic and he already learned how to cook.

Three days again before Jin left ha and i had made the decision to stop giving Yoongi suppressants, now that he’s in a safer space having his own space helps ease the situation for his heat. It would take some time for it to come back so i would have enough time to prepare myself for it, the two of us haven’t really talked about it yet. None of us mentioned what happened at the clinic and i was too nervous to say anything now, busying myself with his adaptation here trying to get away with it. We needed to talk about that, i knew that, but things weren’t as easy. We were so different from each other deep down i was just afraid I wouldn’t be able to give him what needed.

Before anything three days ago Jin and I had a talk with Yoongi about all his protocols from now, he agreed on the stop of the suppressants and for the future exams and check ups it would only be needed to take twice a year every six months, to ensure his health is good.

Everything aside, I couldn’t lie even if I wanted to.

For the first time in my life I was waking up in the morning every day for more then just doing my duties, I had reason to wake up with a smile on my face every morning knowing I would see him there.

The past days Yoongi created a routine of his own, he would usually wake up before me and make us coffee. Stand behind the kitchen counter while he stared at the window wall as the sunlight shined through, making the entire room look like a golden dream.

Every morning my heart was filled with so much happiness, just the sight of him made any worries disappear completely and today it wasn’t any different.

I made my way to the kitchen while closing my sleeping robe, fallowing the sweet scent of hot coffee.

- morning… - I said, gaining his attention as i entered the kitchen.

I walked around the counter where he stood, eyes locked on his as he put the mug down closing his arms around my body in a tight hug. The smell of coffee filled the entire apartment deliciously.

- morning… - he mumbled raspy over my ear, moving just enough to plant a kiss over my lips. Quick and soft.

- how did you sleep last night? - I ask him.

I watched as his features immediately changed into a bitter one as soon as the words left my lips, I knew exactly what was coming after that but the way he scrunched his nose was so cute I couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped my lips, which I immediately tried to hide the moment he tried to move away from me. Immediately holding his waist tighter pushing him against the counter.

- awfully…. So terribly uncomfortable I nearly had any sleep and is all your fault - he said, hands falling over mines.

- I know, I know… - i blinked cutely, fallowing his face at every turn he made to avoid my gaze.

- no, im not taking it anymore… - he said, a pout forming on his lips and I had bit my own lip to hold back another mischievous giggle.

He’s been acting so cute lately it was making so hard for me to resist, it was like the old grumpy snake hybrid I once knew was gone and was replaced by a cute pouty snake hybrid.

- i’m so sorry my pookie… - i watched as his ears immediately turned red over the nickname i gave him, even the slightest and most innocent nickname was enough to make him turn red and hide his face shyly. I was at the point of bursting watching him.

- no… i’m not your… whatever that is you said - he turned away to the side, his scales shined like golden petals over the sunrise coming through the window.

- all of this because I didn’t let you sleep with me? I thought you liked your own room.

- I do… but I thought that now that we are both alone here, you wouldn’t be away from me - he turned back, staring down at my eyes.

- we’ve been through this already…

The truth is that ever since we’ve been here, we only went as far as a few kisses on the couch while we cuddled. Our nights just as our morning were spent completely stick together on the couch, the tv would play some aleatory movie the we never payed much attention to honestly.

He would usually fall asleep over me while I run my fingers through his hair not so long after i would fall asleep, until one of us wakes up hungry and the kitchen becomes a playground for the curious snake hybrid.

- I just want you to have some space to figure things out, especially now that you’re clean from suppressants it could be a bit overwhelming and I don’t want you to have a hard time - I tell him, running my hands over his waist down his hips.

- you care too much for me - he says, finally giving in and smiling softly.

- always - I said, leaning towards his chest to plant a quick kiss the the exposed skin.

- don’t think you’re free from this discussion… - he said, voice sounding much lower this time.

I looked up at his eyes our faces bearly centimeters away, noses brushing softly against each other.

- what discussion? - I pushed innocently, making him scoff over my lips.

- you’re gonna make me lose scales, y/n.

I felt his smile grow the moment i closed the distance between our lips, warmth rising up all over my body the second his hands traveled over my back up and down, softly scratching over the fabric of my robe.

Until the growling of my stomach interrupted us.

- what are hiding in there? - He teased poking my belly and my cheeks burned shyly like wild fire.

- funny… - I dry laughed makings the snake chuckle even more.

- well let’s give it some food before you eat me for breakfast - he teased.

I hit his shoulder playfully and we begin with our morning routine, making some breakfast for the both of us while he seats there watching me.

… 6pm …

We’ve been entangled on the couch the past two hours, binge watching a new drama. Earlier Yoongi decided to spent almost two hours in the bathtub, he used three bottles of bubble bath and made a mess all over his bathroom saying it was my fault for not letting him shower with me. But in the end he cleaned up his mess so i wasn’t mad about it anymore, craving popcorn i was ready to make some butter popcorn when Yoongi said he would made them for me and I shouldn’t have left him alone in the kitchen to pick a movie. He managed to burn it and almost set the fire alarm of the apartment, i was speechless. But i just couldn’t get angry at him, he looked so devastated after burning the popcorn he had the biggest pout on his lips.

I took the charge of making the popcorn again and told him to wait in the living room but he stayed and said he would watch me so he could learn, I thought nothing of it and just continue my business to focus to notice the snake hybrid sliding closer the moment i turned to place the now done popcorn into a bowl.

A gasp leaving my lips in instant surprise the moment the snake holds me from behind, i giggle feeling he sink his face a the curve of my neck. He’s been doing that a lot lately finding amusement on catching me off guard just to tease on my weak spot, i held on his arms turning my face toward his kissing the tip of his nose. He smiled holding me tighter.

Yoongi has been gaining some weight since he left the clinic and i was trying to keep my composure at how fast he was getting stronger, he wasn’t the small snake hybrid left to die at the clinic anymore. Yoongi was growing muscles and eating better then he was before, he looked much healthier now and i was happy for him.

I leaned against his chest, feeling the woody scent surrounding us. After three bottles of bubble bath he at least gonna smell nice for days now. I chuckled at the thought turning to face him, never letting his touch slide off my body he smirked at me.

- is this… - i leaned closer to his face, smelling alcohol on his lips - is this whiskey?

- is that what it is? - he asked, innocently.

In that moment i was hit by a wave of shock, i was completely at loss for words, looking closer at him i realized he was fully drunk. Cheeks red and eyes bearly open not to forget the smell of whiskey on his breath. Just when did he drink so much? I turned my back for three seconds?

I wanted to curse myself for being such an alcoholic in that moment, maybe i should’ve hidden my supply of alcohol in my room and not right beside the pool table. What was i even thinking? Yoongi is free now and just like a kid, of course he’s gonna take a taste of everything new to him.

- how much did you drink? - i asked, worried. This was the first time I heard of a hybrid drinking alcohol, god knows what kind of side effects that could have on him.

- a cup? I dont really know - he mumble.

- a cup? Shit… how did you drink that? - i was so utterly worried.

- with my mouth? - he said, sarcasm dripping down his lips like the whiskey in his breath.

- no way Sherlock…. - i held my temples leaning away from him. Just what am i gonna do with a drunken snake hybrid now?

- why? Was i suppose to drink from yours….? - he chuckled drunkenly, making me look up at him with red cheeks.

This kind of side effects is what i was trying to avoid.

- you… - i didn’t even knew what to say, he just stood there laughing as if this was the funniest thing to him.

And for that small moment i laughed with him, i don’t think ive ever seen him this happy. Gummies out at how big he was smiling, chest moving up and down faster he could bearly hold himself up while laughing. Jin is gonna love this.

- okay dunk boy, eat - i shove some popcorn on his mouth - i need you less drunk now.

He nodded while eating. I took the bowl of popcorn with me in one hand and the snake hybrid with the other to the living room, the movie was playing on the TV but failed to catch my attention. As i put the popcorn on the coffee table i made a small run for the bar beside the pool table, looking over the bottles i found one still opened and in that moment i wanted to kill Yoongi - he drunk half a bottle of jack.

- you drunk half a bottle! - i gasped, turning to him.

He sat on the couch legs crossed with my bowl of popcorn watching me as if i was the crazy one.

- you have so many…. - he mumbled, throwing one popcorn on his mouth - also i wasn’t gonna drink much… but it was so weak, i had few more gulps.

Weak.

Half a bottle of jack was weak for him.

- this movie sucks… - he said, getting up.

- what?

My mind was failing to comprehend anything that was happening right now. Maybe i should call Jin.

- I’m calling your brother… - i said, making a turn to go on my room get my phone.

Before i could take even a single step towards my room i was pulled by the hand and turned towards the snake hybrid, he had a drunken smile on his lips while he looked down at me. Mischief shined through his dark eyes like never before - note to self: hide all the alcohol under my bed.

- lets play instead… - he suggested looking over the billiard table - if you win against me, you call Jin.

I scoffed.

- and supposedly if i don’t? - i said, closing my arms over my chest.

- i get to decide that later…. - he said.

- careful Yoongi…. - i warned - you learned this only yesterday.

- but i learned from you - he teased back.

- and i never lose…. - i said taking one cue stick, smothing the tip with the chalk.

This was going to be quick.

- who starts? - i asked, watching Yoongi fallow my moves getting a cue stick and smothing the tip with chalk.

- you start… pookie - he said.

I chuckled at the nickname. This snake hybrid has no idea was coming.

I position myself over the table aiming at the white ball, striking it quick at the color balls i put two whites on the wholes. A confident smirk rising up to my lips.

- sorry… looks like I’m wining already - i tease, walking around the table eyes looking straight into his.

If he was nervous or not i didn’t know he seemed to be focused on me only, but I couldn’t blame him. I was gonna win this in no time.

I position myself once again aiming for a ball closer to a corner whole and in the corner of my eye i notice Yoongi moving to the other side, now focusing back at my aim the cue stick slides between my fingers and just as I’m about to strike Yoongi corners me from behind hands over my hips making me lose completely my chance.

I scoffed turning to look at the sly snake behind me.

- ops… you missed that one - he smirked, pointing at my missed move.

- i wonder why?

- maybe you’re not that good after all…. - he mumbles, walking around the table to strike his move.

I wasn’t expecting him to get it on the first try and that was my mistake, he did learned from me after all.

He gets four balls in without missing after that, I swallowed hard feeling my pride hurt bit by bit. He just learned that how is he doing it as if he was born in a billiard table, i couldn’t believe it..

When he strikes another one I’m already moving towards the mini bar besides the tale, filling myself a cup and drinking all in one gulp. When I turn back Yoongi is watching me with a cunning smirk.

This sly snake was getting on my nerves - i never lose.

- is hot out of a sudden, don’t you think? - i say, playful. He stared the game going dirty and so will i.

Opening the bottoms of my blouse one by one I quickly take it off, keeping on the white crop top i wore to sleep. Putting my hair to the side to expose more of my shoulders.

- aren’t you gonna play? - i press, smiling innocently.

There was another minute he didn’t move, eyes staring me up and down while he licked over his bottom lip. He cleared his throat before positioning himself to strike, but just as i expected he missed.

- ops… - it was my turn to tease, positioning myself right beside him in strike my move.

Once i get my hands on to strike i never miss a single ball, i grew up playing this no one can beat me at my game. Right now i was almost finish, glancing up at Yoongi every now and then i notice he was starting to grow nervous. I wasn’t gonna call Jin anymore, after the first cup i drank another and another cup. I wasn’t weak for drinks, but i was having so much fun with Yoongi now i had long forgotten why i was even going to call Jin.

Two more balls in and i would win, so I position myself to strike the last colorful ball of mines.

- i could mate with you over this table…. - Yoongi mumbled more to himself but i heard exactly what he said.

It made me lose completely my chance to strike.

- maybe i should do that when i win this game - he looked up at me, smirk dancing in the corners of his lip placing the cue stick over the table.

He walked around the table towards me, like i was his prey in that moment and he was ready to take me as his victim. Yoongis words were like his poison, infiltrating my mind with thoughts I wouldn’t ever consider myself.

Like him bending me over this billiard table right now and doing everything he wants. Maybe I should let him win this time.

Once he was right there in front of me, he took the cue stick of my hand and placed over the table. Pushing me against the table with his body he rested his forehead over mine, hands falling over my hips he drew small circles with his thumbs.

- you win… - he whispered - but don’t call my brother, i feel like throwing up.

- that’s not because of Jin - i chuckled - you drank too much, come on… lets get you some meds pookie.

I caressed his face softly before taking his hand in mine to guide him back to the kitchen, my guess was that hybrids were much weaker for alcohol and it affected them much faster then for us humans. So i was quick to him some medicine before taking him with me to the couch and let him rest some more till he sober up.

It didn’t took him much longer before he was back at being his usual cute self and i finally found a movie to pass time, the popcorn was cold now but i still ate half of it.

The bowl of popcorn half empty sat on the small table in front of the couch, Yoongi was half asleep between my legs while I run my fingers thought his hair caressing the back of his neck every now and then.

I had a mind full of thoughts about today, i was sure that his het would start soon and after tonight that thought was rotted inside my head. Maybe the mention of mating tonight set that alarm in my head and I remember all what i was preparing myself for.

- you should tell me when you feel your heat coming - I tell him, quietly.

- what if I don’t? - he teased, lifting his head from my belly watching me attentively with a tired smirk over his pink lips.

- I’ll just found out on my own then - i shrugged.

- like you did before? - he chuckled.

- hey!

- for someone who knows so much about us it took you so long to find out i was in heat - he said.

- only because you were the first snake hybrid on my care - I explained - and you lied to me about it, remember?

- yeah… but I didn’t lied about yours - he says, eyes suddenly turning darker.

- well, I’m not… I mean, now… - I stumbled on my words, it felt so weird trying to explain him how different it happens for humans especially since is different from woman to men.

- I know, I can smell on your skin… - he said, making the curiosity go wild on my head.

- how? What does it smell like? - I ask - I truly can’t tell.

- humm… - he purrs lowly, supporting his hands at both sides of my head to pull himself up.

He leans down burring his face on my neck, taking a deep breath in.

- when your in heat, you smell like… lust - he whispers - and when you’re not, you smell like…

He moves away slowly, looking into my eyes eyebrows furred in concentration as if looking for the right words, lips half open over mine, the more seconds that went by the more he seemed to get lost in a maze.

- warmth… - he whispered - it makes me want to be completely stuck around your arms and never leave.

[…]

… 2 days later …

I could tell his heat was getting closer to a start after the two days that went by. Yoongi became insanely clingy the last couple days and It wouldn’t be a problem of course, but the snake hybrid simply decided to steal the keys of the apartment just so i wouldn’t leave and so far I wasn’t even able to step one foot out in the past days.

I searched the entire apartment already and I couldn’t find the damn keys, if only his behavior had stuck with the clingy part but he also became annoyingly a tease. In every sense.

His heat had already started and he could’ve taken me as his so many times, but i wasn’t ready and i kept pushing him away and not letting him sleep in my room. For that reason he’s been acting out on me ever since.

The mornings we used to share with innocent kisses and a light delicious breakfast, turned into make out sessions over the kitchen counter and nonstop teasing while i try to cook, our afternoons of binge watching dramas turned into marking and scenting sessions for him. But it was just the beginning, Yoongi could still control his rut pretty well and he used that against me every morning.

The first time he started to scent me was when everything went down hill and i knew it would only get harder for him to control it.

I trusted him to tell me when his heat begin to show so i could help him and I was confident it would take at least a few more days, that was my mistake. And again I didn’t notice the signs.

A few days ago when the weather had changed so drastically, it had been raining since late that morning. So the two of us decided to just cuddle on the couch for the rest of the day, i was usually the bigger spoon when we cuddle but the cold weather made me seek warmth on Yoongi. Not knowing what was going on with his sudden quietness i just brushed off as him being tired and held him tighter, every minute that passed I grew more sleepy from his soft caress on my back, hugging him and burning my face on the curve of his neck.

My body was just seconds before completely falling asleep when he moved, i groan against his chest in disagreement while he pulled me down with him between his legs.

He stared to softly place kisses over my cheek, down my jawline and brushing my hair away with his fingers to expose the skin of my neck. Kisses slowly fading into more needy touches while the second passes and I was complete unaware of it, until soft kisses turned into deep and wet ones.

I was fully alert and ready to lean away from him, my wrist was closed to his neck placed beside his head to support me up but he was quick to stop me as if predicting what I was going to do, he held my hand towards him to pull me back.

- just a little more…. - he murmured over my ear, voice soft but low and raspy as if he was drunk - I won’t do anything… just, stay a bit more like this….

He didn’t move until every part of my body fully gave in, he took his chance in that moment and bit into the curve of my neck. Not enough to sink his poison on me, just enough to leave a red mark on my skin for days.

After that he did let me go, but things were different now that his heat has stared. I wasn’t one to complain, i loved every minute i spent under his touch. He wanted to torture me for not letting him sleep beside me, but his ways of torturing consisted only on teasing me till I can’t take it and then leaving me all flustered.

It was late a night and i was getting ready to sleep already when i decided to questioned him about his heat. The door to his room was always open, i watched him from the corridor moving side to side before entering his room.

- are you okay with you heat? Do you think is gonna get bad any time soon?

- no… I can control it right now - he said, while picking a change of clothes to shower.

- okay… - I murmured looking around his room seeing as how neat everything looked - you didn’t make a nest?

He scoffed before turning around to fully look at me.

- i would… but someone doesn’t wanna let me sleep with her - he said, making my cheeks run hot.

Before I could even let another word leave my lips he was pulling his silky shirt off, making a mess of his hair and exposing all his torso to my eyes.

It was not something new to me but it always made me go insane how beautiful he looked, every time it felt like i was seeing him for the first time. His scales looked much healthier and shiny now, i notice how they seemed to have grown even more towards his v line. Shiny lines almost unnoticeable at how delicate they were on his milky skin, making he look like a diamond.

- wanna watch me undress? - he teased.

- is my house - I said back, eyes rooming every centimeter of his body shamelessly making him chuckle.

He walked towards me quickly closing the distance between us two, using his own body to push me against the wall.

Just like that all the air was gone from my lungs, the heat radiating from his body so intensely it felt like a warm blanket surrounded me. And again those dark glossy eyes were focus on mine like they used to at the clinic, making chills run wild down my spine.

Every part of my skin knew his touch so well and urged for him.

- I need my keys - I blurted nervously, finally remembering the reason why I came here.

- no… - he said.

- please Yoongi, I can’t be stuck here anymore… - I plead, finding the courage to look up into his intense eyes filled with darkness.

He didn’t say anything at first, the snake switched looks between my eyes and lips in that moment. Maybe calculating his options? Or just thinking about how he’ll tease me later for it.

- let me sleep with you from now on and I’ll tell you where they are - he said, a smirk filling his lips teasingly.

I took a deep breath before deciding on what to do, it had to happen sooner or later. I knew that. I just wished I could’ve prepared myself more for what was to come the moment i decided to let him in, the two of us kept saying it was all just for sleep but deep down it was obvious. The moment we are alone over that bed we wont be sleeping anymore.

- okay.

I needed the keys and in that moment I had no idea where that would even lead me, he said he had his heat under control and o trusted that. But far way in my mind something keeps telling me he was far away from any control.

- keys? - I asked, making his smile grow even more.

- my back pocket - he said, as if it wasn’t anything.

- no way… - i was not believing but he just shrugged at me still smirking - it was with you this whole time?

- put your hands inside it if you don’t believe me - he dared.

I swallowed hard blinking a hundred times - his back pocket, he meant his ass my keys were in his ass this whole time - before slowly moving my left hand towards his back pocket, face burning like a damn volcano about to explode. I couldn’t even look at his face in that moment, he knew exactly what he was doing.

I bit my bottom lip the second my hand slide down his ass, feeling the skin over the thin layer of his silky pants. Sucking in a breath as my eyes looked anywhere but the snake hybrid in front of me.

- oh… - i exale, looking straight back at him. It was empty.

He smirk grew wider, leaning even closer to me.

- wrong pocket.. - he whispered over my lips.

I swallowed hard again, looking down between us too nervous to stare into his dark glossy eyes but inhaling fast at the sight of his deep v line covered in scales so close to me.

No, i used to treat his wounds. I shouldn’t be nervous right now. This is nothing.

Body burning in nerves I reach for the other pocket with my right hand, feeling his minty breath brush against my face teasingly. Sliding my hand one more time down his ass, reaching inside his pocket.

He leaned closer making my attention go back to his face, this time he looked as nervous as I was. Eyes bearly open, bottom lip caged between his teeth.

The more my hand moved down his bum the harder he bit into the flash and just then I felt the cold metal of the keys and quickly grabbed them.

His expression changed fast after that, leaning away from me as quick as he could.

- we’ll sleep in your room… - he said, before turning away to leave for the bathroom.

[…]

After a long bath I went to check on Yoongi to see if he was still in his room but i didn’t find him there, going straight back to my own room while i tried to massage away the pain on my neck only to find the snake hybrid shirtless all spread over my bed.

- where your clothes? - I asked.

- don’t look at me like that…. - he said sitting up - everything felt itchy on my scales.

- oh…. Should I take a look at them for you? - I said making my way towards him, when my thumb pressed a painful spot on my neck i groan out in discomfort.

- no is fine… - he slides towards the end of the bed were I stood - what’s with your neck?

- I don’t know, i think I’ve slept in a bad position last night it’s hurting a lot now…. - I say - are you sure you’re fine? I can….

- I’m fine, come here - he interrupted me, pulling me by the hand making me straddle his waist.

- Yoongi….

- shh… - he smiled softly, pulling the hair away from my neck - let me take care of you, hum?

I blink nodding, watching his attention drift to my shoulder as he pulls the shirt slightly down to expose more of my neck. He begins to carefully press at the curve of my neck with his fingers, my body was immediately filled by relief as he worked his way around my neck and shoulder.

- I can feel some tension here… - he murmured pressing a bit harder at the curve, and my eyes rolled back in relief.

He chuckled lowly at my reaction, holding my hair away with his free hand to continue his work.

- if you had been sleeping with me you wouldn’t be sore like this… - he teased.

It was my turn to chuckle.

- lies… - I said, staring into his eyes.

He looked back with the same amount of dirtiness on his mind and I decided it was my turn to make him red.

- where’s my nest? - I asked, holding myself from bursting out laughing the second he catch what i said.

He looked extremely worried and embarrassed, almost chocking at his own words.

- oh my god…. - I laughed out, closing my arms around his neck - sorry pookie… I was just teasing.

I kissed his forehead.

- I’ll wait for you to make one for us… - I whispered to him.

- I thought you didn’t like them… - he confessed.

- what do you mean? I like it - I assure him, caressing the back of his neck. Resting my forehead on his.

In just seconds he had me pulled against him and turned us over the bed, hovering over me between my legs. A gasp had left my lips at the sudden movement, holding into him tighter until his eyes opened again staring down at mine in complete lust.

I didn’t expected him to act so quickly after asking for a nest jokingly, it was stupid of me.

He got up lazily eyes still glued in mine, I watch as he made his way towards the closet getting back with three more covers.

He was going to make a nest for me.

He dropped them at my feet before taking one at the time and laying them around me until he was satisfied with it, he had a focused expression on his soft features and then when he was finally done he looked me up before saying anything.

- I wanted this ever since I first saw you at the clinic… - he said, hovering over my body slowly - I want you for the rest of my life, y/n.

Staring into his glossy dark eyes once again, I’ve never felt more out of breath. Every moment with him had been so intense lately, as if all the cells in my body were anticipating this moment knowing what would happen, urging it to happen.

- bite me… - he whispered over my lips - like you did last time.

It was different than last time, at that time us being together was completely forbidden but now we are free, we have each other.

Pulling him closer I kissed his lips, not taking any more seconds. Groaning into his mouth every time his skin came in touch with mine, feeling shivers burning down my body never failing to drive me insane.

I was so high already and we had just stared, trailing my fingers down his back and earning a few groans from him. He bit into my bottom lip, leaning away just enough to stare into my eyes.

There was a different glow around him this time, something I haven’t seen before.

His chest moved against mine, hands sliding up and down my sides each time heavier and sometimes scratching over the layers of my clothes, teasing us both by dragging his own need to touch my skin.

The cold tip of his nose delicately moving against the side of my face, his hot breath slowly seeping through his lips over mine. The minty scent from his tongue danced over my lips deliciously but he didn’t do anything. He continued his soft tease, waiting for me to make his wish come true.

I slowly started to feel his back muscles, softly touching over the scales on his body. They felt so soft to touch just like the velvet we were surrounded by, each time I caressed them softly I would feel Yoongi swift over me slightly. His scales were one of his very sweet spots and he continued to squirm and sigh over me at every little touch, making me grow confident and needier.

He was starting to pant against my neck, groaning lowly making the need in me to tease and play him grow more and more. Remembering his little trick with my keys earlier, I let my hands travel down his spine and past his hips. The moment my hands slipped down his ass he squirmed harder, body falling completely over mine and a groan escaped his lips.

In that moment I bit into his shoulder, my teeth and tongue sliding over his skin sinking into his flesh harder just to licking over it. Carving a mark of my own on him.

- mine… - I whisper breathlessly over his ear.

- fuck… - he moaned over my neck, lifting himself enough to stare at my face.

He was biting his own lip, bruising himself enough to draw blood out of it. If it wasn’t now I would be worried for him but, he looked so handsome in such state of lust. I was completely lost in him, capturing his lips in a lustful kiss.

This time his hands had no mercy over my skin and i was completely sure I would find a few bruises here and there but I couldn’t care any less for it, I wanted them and I wanted him.

- mate with me… - he whispered over my lips completely out of breath - be mine y/n… I wanna do this with you, y/n.

I softly caressed his cheeks before nodding, he smiled before leaning down again leaving a long peck on my lips trailing down my jawline and towards my ear, bitting softly at my neck.

I knew what would come for me in that moment, it was a one way trip with no way back.

- make me yours… - I whispered in his ear.

Feeling the harsh bite over the skin under my ear, he sank his poison into it. The feeling was immediate, the first time the snake hybrid had bitten me was so painful and his poison was sickening but tonight it was completely different, I’ve never felt so high before like this before. Completely drunk on him so much even the smallest touch was enough to make me squirm and moan, just looking at him made me drool and needy.

He smirked knowingly traveling his kisses down my chest, hands sliding past my waist and stoping on my hips to grip into the flesh before sliding up inside my shirt.

Ripping off the fabric of my body with his hands, I breathed out lost in his arms. At the same time he was rough his touch was full of love on my skin, every part of me he gripped into he left a kiss over it.

He stares into my eyes with fondness, fingers running along my face pulling my up by the waist with his other hand, that way I’m sitting up with him on his knees between my legs.

I take the chance to run my fingers over his sides, feeling the scales under the tips of my fingers.

He cups my face kissing my lips hungrier, growling over my tongue. His raven hair is mess now, sweat drips down his neck and my fingers as I grip at his locks.

Bringing him closer I bite into his neck again, Yoongi gasp holding waist tighter and probably bruising the skin. But I couldn’t feel any pain, only the burning sensation all over my body driving my out of sense.

He stops the kiss, eyes locked over mine, seem to slightly go out of focus, a pool of stars all for me to stare into.

I push him down against the bed forcing him to lay down, slipping off my last piece of clothing before doing the same to his pants.

Crawling on all fours back to him, I watch as he stares at me in complete awe, Yoongi gulps down biting his on lip while he savor me with his eyes.

- you’re so fucking beautiful… - he murmurs. Eyes glued on me.

I chuckled at his reaction, running my fingers over his tights seeing how his dick twitches at the slightest touch before finally claiming his lips in a kiss.

He moans deeply pulling me closer.

- Mine… - he moans.

- all yours.

He pulls me by the thighs making me straddle his waist, feeling his hard dick press against my pussy deliciousy, sending us both into an overheated state.

I watch as Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut biting his lip as a groan escapes his chest, finger tips rubbing over my thighs leaving marks.

The burning sensation of the pain makes me move my hips against his instinctive, Yoongi’s eyelids flutter and his head tilt back as gasps make his chest heave up and down quickly. Another growl comes out of his chest and he moves his hips forward, the waves of pleasure seeping through my whole body making me shiver and lose control over my upper body, using my hands to keep me up against his chest, feeling how he breaths deep.

My eyes fluttered open to watch his lustful eyes in complete bliss, he squirms underneath me moaning out my name.

The sound of his voice sending shiver down my body, the feeling sends butterflies through my stomach. I let out a deep moan, grinding my hips into his. He growls, digging his nails into my thighs. Then sliding them upwards gripping my boobs, my own hands covering his for support as a continue to move against him.

Yoongi pulls me back against his chest, claiming my lips into a messy kiss. Stopping my hips from moving so he could slide inside me more easily, the feeling of his cock filling me up so good was making my head pound in arousal.

Yoongi moans loudly, trembling under my hands, lips searching for mine desperately, biting into the flesh of my shoulders sinking his poison into me while he moves his hips against mine, I pull the back of his hair biting my own lip in arousal moving my hips with his.

The pleasure is almost unbearable, so good every time I close my eyes I see stars, running my fingers through his raven hair holding him tight against me.

- breathe y/n…. - he whispers against my neck, sitting up in bed with me over him.

His hands grip my hips harder, his poison on my system was sending me into a frenzy of pleasure, each time, more.

- breathe… - he continued to whisper - just like that…

Not so long into that I feel my whole body shaking on top of him, knees starting to hurt from being like that for to long, but even the pain felt insanely good in that moment. Making me crawl into him more and more, he held me tighter before turning us around once again.

Hovering over my shaky body, Yoongi gripped into my hands as he pounded into me harder, throwing my head back while my knees are shaking in weakness, I moan out his name. Felling the dizziness claiming my body as he continued to pound at an animalistic force inside me.

- yoongi…. Fuck - I moan out, as he slides one hand between our bodies working his fingers over my clit.

- Y/n… fuck cum for me - he groans over my ear, circling over my clit with his fingers ripping a deep orgasm out of me.

- Yoongi…

But he doesn’t stop, even after he fills me so deep, I feel his cum dripping down my pussy. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, claiming my lips into a messy kiss he trails down my neck, leaving marks down my chest, sucking on a nipple.

- Yoongi… too much - I moaned out breathlessly.

I couldn’t make a single thought in my head and I loved it, my legs were shaking from his fingers circling over my clit nonstop, body aches tiredly but it felt so insanely good.

Yoongi growls, forces you closer pulling my thigh with his free hand as he he worked his way down my body with his tongue, leaving wet kisses everywhere.

- fuck… - it escapes my lips once I figure out what he was planning.

How he wasn’t tired after almost fucking me into oblivion, I didn’t know, but I was so grateful.

Ending his trail over my pussy he leaves a long lick down to the bottom of it, making me instantly arch my back.

Yoongi forcibly pulls on my thighs against his shoulders, locking me completely down and starts his feast on my pussy.

- fuck, Yoongi… - I cry out name, fingers gripping his hair.

The feelings is so insanely good, I moan and mutter words uncontrollably, words that make no sense to me, but feel so good, screaming his name out loud, shit, the neighbors will definitely file a complaint against me.

The sounds he was making driving me to the absolute bottom of the hill, gripping into his hair, myself and digging my nails over my skin.

- too much… fuck - my knees were shaking again and he didn’t stop, holding me closer.

Yoongi is sucking on my clit so harshly I started to fear he might bruise it down there as well. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it my body started to convulse, the delicious sensation began again to fill me up and I’m cursing and squirting all over him.

Yoongi sits up with a groan, he touches his own face, picking up the remains of my orgasm of his face, licking his fingers as I watched him completely fucked out.

Chest rising up and down tiredly, he hovers over me, hooking his fingers behind my neck just to pull me closer resting his forehead over mine.

- fuck me… - he moaned out, making me look up at him.

- You’re crazy - I tell him breathlessly, we both chuckled.

- Please… - he plead, pulling me in to claim my lips in a desperate kiss.

Yoongi grips my waist pulling me to the side as he lays down on his, he whimpers against my lips in a sloppy kiss, hands gripping every inch of skin.

He tugs me closer to his aching cock, holding my hips firmly to move against him. The friction is insanely good.

- you smell so fucking good…. - he mumbles - please, y/n, fuck me…

He buries his face between my boobs planting kisses over them.

- fuck you’re insane, Yoongi - I moan, gripping his hair.

Yoongi whimpers pulling me tighter against him, holding my hips to make me rut against his cock. I pushed him down while fixing myself between his legs, hovering over his body a begin to plant kisses over his neck, leaving sloppy licks over his scales.

His chest started to move up and down rapidly, he purrs deeply when I wrap my hand around his cock, feeling how he throbs under my touch.

He squeezes my hips, sweet whimpers leave his lips and I watch with pleasant eyes the snake hybrid squirm in front of me as I start jerking him off quickly, making he growl my name before returning to the slow peace of before.

He whines, throwing his head back.

- is this good my Yoongi? - I tease, watching he squirms as a reaction.

- So good… oh, so good y/n - he groans, barely keeping his eyes open - please, fuck..

- What is it baby? What do you want? - I taunt moving my hand terribly slow over his cock.

- Wanna… fuck, wanna cum… - he moans, trembling when I start jerking him off quickly.

His pretty cock spits pre cum, the sounds of my hand moving around his throbbing head driving us both insane, the moment he started squirming I knew he was getting closer.

- yes, yes… y/n you’re so good - he moans, hands gripping the covers.

- Cum baby, make a mess for me.

He starts to moan my name repeatedly, bitting his own lip until his legs are shaking, cock throbbing under my fingers while leaking his cum all over himself.

I run my hand over his belly covered on his milk, spreading it on his abs before moving closer, pressing my lips against the curve of his neck.

- such a good boy… my Yoongi - I praise, leaving kisses alone his jawline.

- - that was so good… - he mumbles, closing his arms around my body in a hug.

- Humm… you are insane - I said against his chest, running my fingers over his shoulder.

- I’m yours - he state, making me look up into his eyes.

- I’m yours too - I whisper over his lips, softly claiming his between mine.

He pulled me over his chest and we cuddled together, finally letting the tiredness begin to kick and let us get some sleep.

And tomorrow I would wake up happy, knowing it would be in his arms. Forever.

Taglist: @yoongiwantsme @effielumiere @danielle143 @dragons-flare e @awanderingangel @blue-and-grey-army @crystallizedtime @fairywriter-oracle @rosquilleta @m4gg13-g @unadulteratedlyunique e @kpopmultistantrashsstuff f @anaspectoflife @younhakim29 @yoongislatinagff @kimsonlyluv @slut-4-yourmom @illnevertrustmyselfagain @bangchanbabygirlx @itsskyvoltage @welcometomyworld13 @momnomnom @honsoolgloss @kimtaehussy @amariemoore @starrlo0ver r @whipwhoops s @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe e @catlove83 @tarahardcore e @liveyun @4ukiyo4 @sukonsukuna a @passionandsuga @missroro @btspurplesky @watermelon2319 @mukeovernetflix @lopprhe e @acquiescence804 @locket-hrt @myspi2010 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @armydgirl l l @jaxyy219 @viankiss @shycreationdreamland @the-reas0n-is-y0u @nothingsreal420 @sckalykoko @lucis-noctiana

[esquilone]

- Winter Violets

──────────୨ৎ───────────

RDR2 | Charles Smith x F! reader

Summary: After everything that happened with the gang, Charles Smith sets out for Canada in search of a new beginning. Far from his past, he dreams of a peaceful life, maybe even a family. Riding along the vast, silent roads of Canada, he never expected to find anyone. But then, he heard it. A call for help. A voice lost in the wind. When he stopped to help you; a woman, he thought it was just a fleeting moment. But when, months later, your paths crossed again, something felt different. It became clear that this was never just a coincidence. Could there be something more to it?

Gender tags: explicit (Not yet in this chapter.)

Word count: 7,698

Author's note: I am sorry to warn you that I failed a little in the development of this work, I have not yet fully reviewed it when checking spelling mistakes, I apologize if you bother, in one of the lines of Charles there will be a link, in this link you can see where I got inspiration from one of the dialogues.

PART TWO IN HERE 02!!

Charpter 1

The train cut through the white landscape of southern Canada, advancing along tracks surrounded by snow-covered pines. Charles Smith watched the scenery through the window, feeling the weight of the past years on his shoulders. After everything that had happened with the Van der Linde gang, after helping John build his ranch for his family and aiding in his revenge against Micah, he knew he could no longer live that way. He would never allow himself to again. The betrayal, the violence, and the constant running had become unbearable. He needed peace.

John had mentioned this place once—the vast mountains and fertile lands where no one would pursue him. Not that Charles had never considered it before, but only after settling what needed to be settled. He decided this was where he would go. He bid farewell to the ghosts of his past and set off on a new journey, crossing the border and leaving everything behind.

The Canadian cold was intense, but it didn’t bother him much. He had grown up facing harsh winters, living with the Wapiti, and now, more than ever, he wanted to reconnect with that part of himself. Maybe among these snow-covered mountains, he could simply be Charles—without blood on his hands, without having to look over his shoulder with every step.

As the train began to slow down, signaling their arrival at the small town’s station, Charles took a deep breath. This was where his new life would begin.

Canada has always been your home. You were born here, grew up here, and now you live in the same house where your father once lived before passing away years ago. The house is old but well cared for. Sitting farther from the city, surrounded by a wooden fence, and in the backyard, violets bloom at the start of spring. The sweet scent of wild violets mixed with the woody aroma of the house brought you a sense of comfort.

Your routine is simple, but you love it. You wake up early, brew strong coffee, and head out to work. You take care of horses at a ranch on the outskirts, far from the city—something you learned from your father. He always said that horses understand a person’s soul better than any human. And maybe he was right.

When you return home, you spend time in the backyard tending to the violets—your mother’s favorite flowers—and the other plants and vegetables you’ve learned to grow. Your favorite hobby is drawing and making desserts. Nothing too elaborate, just small creations—and in your sketches? Birds, leaves, sometimes faces that come to mind. There’s something therapeutic about turning a blank sheet of paper into something new and meaningful.

Even though you enjoy your solitary life, sometimes… sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever meet someone who understands this world of yours. Someone who appreciates silence and simplicity, who understands the connection to the land and animals.

But for now, all you have is this house full of memories, the scent of violets and wild grass, the sound of the wind cutting through the mountains, the singing of a few birds, and the chime of wind bells making the house feel a little less… abandoned.

The afternoon sun painted the sky in a soft shade of violet as you knelt in the garden, pulling out dry leaves and inhaling the fresh scent of damp earth. The violets were beautiful this year, more vibrant than before, as if they knew someone still cared for them. Your fingers slid along the delicate stems of the flowers, and for a moment, the world felt so calm.

You had spent the last hour trying to fix an old rocking chair that had belonged to your father. Time had worn down the wood in some places, and one of the legs was loose. You had tried tightening the nails, adjusting the planks, but nothing seemed to truly solve the problem. Maybe the wood was too worn out. Maybe you just didn’t have the patience anymore.

But it didn’t take long before your mind began to torment you again.

You sighed, setting the chair aside and stepping away from the porch. You sat on the steps of the veranda, watching the sky slowly change. The soft violet gave way to a deep blue, as if the sky itself was breathing.

The breeze blew cold, sending a shiver across your skin, but you didn’t move. Your eyes remained fixed on the horizon, and, without meaning to, you felt your throat tighten.

It had been so long… So long since this house had heard another voice besides your own… So long since someone had sat beside you to talk about the day, to share a meal, to laugh at the little things in life. You were a grown woman now—mature, independent. But loneliness… Loneliness was a constant shadow.

It wasn’t just the absence of a husband or children—it was the lack of companionship, of someone who understood the weight of the years, who knew what it meant to carry memories and still try to move forward.

You blinked quickly, but a single tear slipped down your cheek.

Has this feeling taken over you once again?....

Would your parents be proud of you? Would your father say you had done a good job taking care of the house? Would your mother smile, seeing the violets still blooming? You remembered very little of her now—she had going too soon.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, as if that could ease the knot in your chest. The wind blew again, and for a brief moment, it felt like a gentle touch, an invisible comfort.

Maybe it was just the silence keeping you company once again.

You stood up, tossing your gardening gloves to the ground, then walked back to the cabin. It was time to go inside, eat dinner, and sleep.

Tomorrow would be another day—one of many repetitive months. Once again

The wind rustled through the trees as your eyes scanned everything that might catch your interest, once again searching for any trace of something useful. The scent of damp earth and dry leaves mixed with the cold forest air, creating a comforting yet lively silence. Birds flitted from branch to branch, and the soft crunch of twigs beneath your feet echoed lightly. The cold and humidity of the forest began to intensify as the sun dipped below the horizon.

You walked among the tall trees, your eyes alert to the herbs sprouting and the twisted roots beneath your feet. Your shoulder bag already carried a few herbs and a rabbit you had hunted earlier. But then, a strong aroma caught your attention—perhaps a rare type of herb? One that could add flavor to meat when roasted or cooked over a wood-burning stove.

You crouched down upon spotting more herbs used for seasoning and tea growing nearby. Carefully, you touched them, recognizing their texture and color. You knew these were safe for consumption. With a small, satisfied smile, you began gathering them and placed them in your bag. Advancing forward, crouching again to inspect the area, your mind drifted to the clouds, as it often did.

You stood up, adjusted the bag on your shoulder, and took the path back. Stepping backward.

But then—a loud crack.

Your foot sank into something that shouldn’t have been there. Time slowed for an instant, and before you could react, you felt a sudden pressure and a violent pull around your ankle.

A burrow? What the hell—!!?

-AH!

The pain struck like a blade slicing through your nerves. You screamed instantly, the sound swallowed by the vastness of the trees.

The metal snapped shut with force. A sharp pain shot up your leg as some kind of mechanism—cold metal—clamped tightly around your ankle. Your chest heaved, your vision blurred by pain and panic, dark red, warm blood trickling down the rusted metal.

Panic surged in your throat as you tried to pull your leg free, but the iron embedded in your flesh wouldn’t budge. Your fingers trembled as they tried to loosen the grip on your ankle, but the searing pain clouded your thoughts. Your knuckles turned numb and pale.

Your eyes dropped to the ground of dirt and soft grass—and then, terror froze your chest more than it already had. The jagged, rusted teeth of the trap had sunk deep into your skin, the dull metal glistening in places where fresh blood now coated its surface.

Your fingers clenched against the cold earth. You swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears burning in your eyes.

— N-No… no…! — Your voice came out shaky, barely audible.

Your eyes looked to the dark forest. The silence felt heavier now. You were trapped—and worse—alone.

(…)

Charles adjusted the reins, letting Taima move at her own pace. The trot was calm, steady, her hooves sinking softly into the damp earth of the trail. Canada wasn’t bad. The cold didn’t bother him, and the silence of the forest was familiar. Different, maybe, but not strange.

He could feel the weight of the night approaching as he rode calmly along the trail between the trees. Taima moved with firm steps, the sound of her hooves muffled by the soft earth of the woodland road. He had been riding for hours, but he felt no rush. There was no destination. He just kept going, listening to the subtle creak of the leather saddle, the quiet breath of his mare, and the wind cutting through the trees.

He had broken camp a few hours ago and was now heading somewhere safer for the night. The scent of wet wood and vegetation filled the air—familiar, comforting.

He had never counted the exact years, but it had been long enough. Long enough that this place didn’t feel so temporary anymore. Maybe two, three years? Enough to get used to the bone-chilling cold, the snow-covered trails in winter, the most beautiful autumn he had ever experienced, and the abrupt changes of the seasons.

He didn’t think much about it. He just lived each day as it came—hunting, working when necessary, moving from time to time.

Solitude never bothered him. It was part of who he was. So many years alone didn’t scare him anymore.

With one hand, he adjusted the reins, while the other rested on the rifle strap attached to the saddle. His experienced eyes scanned the path ahead, alert for any signs of danger—not just predators but also traps left behind by reckless hunters or thieves. But there was probably nothing. He let his thoughts drift back into his own head.

Then he heard it.

A scream.

Short, but filled with desperation.

Every fiber of his body told him someone needed help. Or maybe… he had only heard the cry of a spirit

Charles pulled the reins firmly, and Taima snorted, turning her head toward the sound. Silence once again swallowed the forest. This shouldn’t be his problem, but something inside him stirred—an instinct he couldn’t ignore.

— Taima… — he murmured, guiding the mare toward the noise.

He tapped his heels lightly against her sides, urging her off the main trail. The branches closed in, making the passage difficult, but he pushed forward, even as the leaves lashed against his arms and legs.

Moving silently through the vegetation, his eyes caught sight of a figure on the ground.

A woman.

The faint sound of hooves echoed in your ears, but they felt more like a distant hum, so you barely noticed when someone dismounted beside you.

You turned your head quickly, eyes wide.

Through the forest’s shadows, a dappled gray horse stood still. And mounted on it—a man.

He approached slowly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.

— Are you alright? — His voice was careful, yet filled with concern.

He dismounted calmly, but you dragged yourself back slightly, ignoring the searing pain in your ankle.

The look you gave him was pure panic. You could barely breathe, your entire body tense.

— Hey, hey… don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. — His deep voice was gentle, trying not to startle you. — You’re injured.

Your heart pounded inside your chest. The pain, the fear, and the presence of this unknown man made your mind spin.

When did he get here, and how did you not see him!?

Your heartbeat sped up—though this time, it was different.

You swallowed hard, your whole body trembling. You tried pulling your leg free again, but the pain was so sharp that a choked sob escaped your lips.

— No! Don’t come near me! — Your voice wavered, barely more than a sob.

— Stay calm. I know how to get this off. — He crouched down, examining the wound.

What did he just say to you? Everything seemed… muted.

You could barely respond. Your breaths were short and shallow, the throbbing pain making tears stream down your face, your warm blood seeping from the wound.

— Damn… damn… damn… — you whispered, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each word, almost breathless.

Blood trickled from your torn skin.

Charles raised his hands again. His expression was serious, but his eyes were patient.

— I’m not going to hurt you — he said once more, his voice deep but calm. — But you’re injured.

— I… I can— I can handle it myself! — You tried to push him away with your glare, but another wave of pain shot through your leg, and you let out a pained whimper.

You were screwed. And you couldn’t even hide the fear on your face.

He crouched slowly, never taking his deep brown eyes off yours.

— I can unlock the trap. It’ll be quick, but I need you to trust me.

Your breathing was ragged as you tried to process everything. Your eyes were glossy with unshed tears, and your body trembled from the effort of enduring the pain.

Charles reached out his hand.

— I promise, I just want to help.

Your throat tightened. You wanted to tell him to leave again, but… you couldn’t get out of this alone.

With trembling lips, you finally gave him a small, barely perceptible nod.

He didn’t waste time.

Charles knelt beside the trap, studying the rusted mechanism with sharp eyes. The old iron had sunk deep into your flesh, and he knew that opening it would take strength and precision. It had to be done fast.

He lifted his gaze to you—you were still breathing unevenly, your face contorted with pain.

— It’s going to hurt a little — he warned, his voice low and steady. — But I’ll be quick.

You didn’t answer, just dug your fingers into the dirt, bracing yourself.

Charles positioned his hands on both sides of the mechanism and clenched his jaw. With a firm movement, he applied pressure to the trap’s sides. The metal groaned in protest but slowly started to give way.

Your ankle, trapped for far too long, was swollen and throbbing. You felt the pressure loosen and tried to pull your leg free, but the movement sent a shock straight through your wounded nerves.

A sharp whimper escaped your throat.

A LITTLE?!

— Shit… — you whispered, your voice trembling.

— Breathe — the unknown man instructed, his tone calm but leaving no room for hesitation.

You grasped a handful of dry leaves, forcing yourself to focus on breathing as he held the iron open.

— Now — he directed. — Lift your leg.

You swallowed hard, gathering the last bit of courage you had left.

— AH! Damn it…! — your voice broke into a strangled cry.

With a tense movement, you dragged your ankle free. The pain burned like fire, searing through every nerve, and an involuntary sob escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut.

And then, the moment your leg was free from the iron, Charles let go of the trap.

CLANK! *open*

The mechanism snapped shut immediately, the loud sound echoing through the silent forest. Your whole body trembled. Your chest rose and fell in ragged breaths as the reality of the open wound spread through you in waves of agony.

Charles leaned slightly toward you, his movements measured, careful not to startle you, but you were lost in your own misery.

— I can bandage the wound to stop the bleeding — he said, his voice low and unhurried.

You couldn’t speak. The fear was still there, tangled with the pain. But with no strength left to argue, you simply gave a weak nod.

Charles pulled a clean strip of cloth from his bag and got to work.

Warm blood trickled in a thin line from your shin to your ankle, where the trap’s iron teeth had torn into your skin in a deep, jagged cut. The pain throbbed, radiating from the bone through your entire leg, and every small movement made your stomach churn.

You were still sitting on the forest floor, trying to catch your breath, when Charles moved beside you. You barely noticed that he was holding a handkerchief, likely to clean the blood.

He leaned in slightly, his expression serious as he assessed your condition. Then, without a word, he moved to lift you into his arms.

Your body tensed immediately.

— What do you think you’re doing?! — Your voice came out sharp, still thick with pain.

Charles stopped, his dark eyes meeting yours with patience.

— Taking you somewhere more open — he replied, as if it were obvious.

— I need to get a better look at that wound.

You opened your mouth to protest, but the sharp sting in your leg killed the words before they could leave. Still, when he slid an arm under your back and the other beneath your knees, you flinched in resistance.

— I can walk! I can do it — you grumbled, even though you knew it was a lie.

Charles didn’t argue. He simply lifted you off the ground with ease, as if you weighed little more than a sack of cotton. You felt tense, aching, and on the verge of tears. This didn’t feel right… What didn’t? The idea of having accepted this stranger’s “help.”

Every step he took sent a dull vibration of pain through your leg, and you couldn’t suppress a muffled whimper when the movement jostled your wound.

Soon, he set you down on a fallen log in a clearer spot, where the moonlight filtered through the trees. You tried to collect yourself, but the throbbing in your shin and ankle drained your strength.

Charles crouched in front of you, his sharp eyes scanning the wound.

— The bleeding isn’t too bad, but you can’t put weight on that leg. If you do, it’ll tear open more, and that won’t be good. He quickly wrapped a bandage around your leg, tying some cloth over the wound to prevent infection.

You took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in your throat.

After a moment, Charles stood up and let out a low whistle.

A gray mare with white speckles emerged from the shadows of the woods, obediently trotting up to his side. He took the reins and looked at you.

— I’m going to help you up.

You frowned, still wary, but let him take hold of your arms and shoulders, helping you onto the back of the horse as you tried to steady yourself against the saddle.

The moment your weight pressed down on your injured leg, pain flared again, and you hesitated, holding your breath.

— Where are you taking me? — you asked, your voice low and tense.

He adjusted Taima’s reins before answering.

— I can set up another camp or take you to town to get this treated.

Your heart pounded. Town was far. Too far.

— No… town’s too far… — you protested, barely able to think straight.

— M-My place is closer… — Maybe you’d regret saying that later.

Charles paused for a moment, considering your words. Then, you pointed toward a path leading out of the woods, where small stones lined a narrow trail.

He followed your gaze and, after a brief silence, nodded.

Without another word, he mounted Taima and adjusted the reins. Your horse followed behind them on its own as the forest faded into the distance.

The journey was quiet, except for the sound of Taima’s hooves against the damp earth. The pain in your leg didn’t ease—in fact, it only seemed to intensify with each small movement. The night’s cold seeped into your skin, and exhaustion weighed on your eyelids.

But Charles wouldn’t let you fall asleep.

— Do you live alone? — His voice broke the silence, low but firm.

You blinked, forcing yourself to stay alert. Awake.

— Yes… — you murmured, resting your head against your own shoulder.

— How long?

You hesitated for a moment.

— A few years.

He made a neutral sound in his throat, absorbing your answer.

— Do you have family in town?

— No… no one.

Your tone was weaker than you intended, but Charles only nodded, unsurprised.

Silence settled between you again, filled only by the cold wind rustling through the trees. You could feel Taima moving carefully beneath you, her steps steady and deliberate, as if Charles was guiding her to keep your leg from jostling too much.

The pulsing pain threatened to drag you into unconsciousness, and you had to fight to keep your eyes open.

— Your horse is obedient— He’s remarked.

You glanced back, spotting your horse following faithfully without needing to be led.

— He knows me… knows we’re heading home.

Charles kept his eyes on the path ahead, but his tone became a little firmer.

— Stay awake.

You took a shaky breath, shivering as another wave of pain shot up your leg.

— It's not so easy...— you murmured.

He didn’t respond right away. Then, after a few minutes, his voice returned softer, but still watchful.

— What’s name?

You blinked, confused.

— What?

— Your horse.

Oh…

— Archer.

Charles made another neutral sound, as if approving the name.

— Strong and loyal, then.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the conversation instead of the pain.

Then, something caught your attention.

Charles wasn’t asking about the path anymore.

You lifted your head, and that’s when you saw it. In the distance, a thin column of smoke curled into the dark sky—the smoke from your home’s fireplace. The only smoke in the entire area.

He already knew where he was going.

Maybe his senses were sharp, or maybe he just had an eye for details. Either way, Charles adjusted Taima’s reins slightly and urged her into a faster trot. Not fast enough to jolt you painfully, but enough to close the distance between you and the cabin.

Time passed in brief flashes of light and shadow as the forest began to open into a clearer space.

— That’s your home? — he asked, his voice low but firm.

You blinked a few times, fighting off dizziness, before nodding.

— Yes…is here.

The wooden cabin was medium-sized, surrounded by a small, weathered fence. The chimney still released a thin wisp of smoke into the night sky. Charles slowed Taima and pulled the reins until she came to a complete stop.

Without a word, he dismounted with ease, then turned to you.

— Hold on tight — he warned before reaching out to help you down.

His touch was firm but careful, supporting your weight as your feet met the ground.

The moment you tried to put weight on your injured leg, a sharp pain struck like a blade.

Your body gave out.

A muffled cry escaped your lips, and before you could collapse, Charles caught you swiftly.

— Damn it… — you whispered, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

Charles said nothing. He simply adjusted his hold on you again and started walking.

— You alright. Just… move slowly and lean on me.

He nudged the small gate open with his foot, crossing the tiny yard to the steps of the front porch. The wood creaked under your combined weight as he carefully lowered you onto one of the benches by the door. For a moment, all you could do was take a deep breath, trying to regain control over the pain and exhaustion.

He stepped back slightly, just enough to give you some space but still staying within your line of sight.

— I need to take care of that wound now — he said, his voice steady.

You knew you had no choice. So you just nodded, too exhausted to argue.

Charles had barely taken a few steps toward Taima when you hurried to speak.

— No need! — you called out to the man in front of you.

He stopped, turning to face you with a neutral expression, though his eyes remained sharp.

— You got something better? — he asked, skeptical.

Without answering, you leaned forward quickly, ignoring the searing pain in your leg. A shaky breath escaped your lips, but you didn’t stop. Your fingers slid beneath the fabric-covered space under the wooden bench, feeling around until they found a small box hidden in the narrow gap. With a firm tug, you yanked it free, the dull thud echoing across the porch.

— Here. — You lifted the box slightly, tapping your fingers against the lid. — I always keep what I need close by…

Charles was silent for a moment, watching you with that look that seemed to see more than what you said. Then, without haste, he turned back and walked toward you.

Kneeling beside you, he took the box from your hands and opened it, scanning the contents.

— Hidden under the bench? — he murmured, a subtle trace of approval in his voice. — That’ll do.

You shrugged, even though the movement made your entire body protest.

— Better than having to hobble around looking for something.

Charles let out a quiet sound of acknowledgment, pulling out some clean cloth and a small bottle of alcohol.

— Smart. Let’s see if we can patch this up without needing anything else.

He checked the supplies, ensuring there was enough to work with, then lifted his gaze to you. Without a word, he leaned in slightly—just a small shift forward, but unmistakable. A silent request for permission. A quiet question, waiting for your trust.

You held his gaze for a moment before exhaling a long sigh and nodding, letting him continue.

With a deliberate gentleness, Charles reached for the hem of your skirt, lifting it just enough to expose your injured leg. The skin around the wound was smeared with dried blood and dirt from the trail, and the pain throbbed in sync with your heartbeat. It hurt like hell.

He studied the injury with careful eyes before unfastening the canteen from his belt.

— It’s gonna sting — he warned, even before he started.

You barely had time to brace yourself before the cool water spilled over the wound.

— Ah! — You recoiled instantly.

The sharp jolt of pain sent your breath hitching, a gasp escaping before you could stop it.

Charles didn’t hesitate. He grabbed a clean cloth from the box, gently wiping around the wound, clearing away the remaining dirt. Water mixed with blood trickled down your ankle, staining the ground beneath you with small crimson drops. Then, he reached for the alcohol.

— One more time — he murmured, almost as if preparing you for what was coming next.

The second the liquid touched your exposed skin, the pain ignited like fire. You sucked in a sharp breath, your fingers gripping the edge of the bench, your teeth clenched to keep from crying out.

— Drug… — you muttered, trying to steady your breathing.

He paid no mind to your gritted complaints. Just kept going, methodical and precise.

Once the worst of it passed, he grabbed a fresh cloth, folding it carefully before pressing it against the wound.

You flinched at the touch but didn’t protest.

With swift hands, he wrapped a bandage around your leg, securing it with a firm knot. Once done, he pressed his palm lightly over your shin, assessing with a careful touch.

— No broken bones — he finally said. — You got lucky.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and leaned your head back against the porch wall.

— Thank you… — you murmured so quietly that you doubted he even heard it, your voice still heavy with exhaustion.

Charles closed the box and stood up, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt before looking at you again

— I can take you to a doctor — he offered, straightforward.

You shook your head without hesitation.

— No. This is enough.

Charles was silent for a moment, as if considering your answer.

Then, he simply nodded.

He wouldn’t insist.

You closed your eyes, the weight of exhaustion settling over your shoulders. It was so much…Fatigue overtook her before you could even notice.

Sitting on the porch, her body sinking into the wooden bench, her eyes simply became too heavy to stay open. You fought against sleep at first, blinking slowly, trying to hold on to consciousness for just a few more moments. There was still something you needed to do. Something you wanted to say…

But before you could gather your thoughts, your breathing slowed, your muscles relaxed, and exhaustion took over.

Charles stood for a moment, watching you in silence.

You were no longer moving.

The tension in your body, caused by pain and hesitation, had faded. Your slightly parted lips released a quiet breath, and your chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.

You were asleep.

He wasn’t expecting gratitude—he didn’t need it. But somehow, it felt like something was left unfinished.

And yet, he didn’t wake you.

Instead, he bent down and picked up the supply box, closing the lid with a quiet motion. Then, he stood up and walked to the fence beside the house, where his mare, Taima, waited patiently. He adjusted the saddle straps, ran a hand down the animal’s neck, and mounted in one fluid motion. Then, without looking back, he gave a slight command with the reins, and Taima began moving away from the house, her hooves tapping softly against the ground.

Night had fully fallen by the time he disappeared into the trees.

You woke with a shiver.

The air was cold now, even in summer, a stark contrast to the mild warmth of late afternoon. Darkness had settled over the land, covering the forest in deep shadows and spreading across the surrounding fields. For a moment, you blinked in confusion, trying to remember where you were. Then, the last moments before sleep came rushing back:

The porch.

The pain.

The man.

But he was no longer there.

You looked around, first slowly, then with growing urgency. His mare had vanished along with him. There were no fresh hoofprints in the dry earth. No presence, no sound of movement nearby.

He was gone.

You sat there for a moment, a strange restlessness growing in your chest.

There was something unsettling about his silent departure.

After all, he had helped you. He had cleaned your wound, made sure it wasn’t too serious, and stayed there, even though he had no obligation to.

And you didn’t even say thank you.

You didn’t even look at him properly before falling asleep. He never heard your gratitude, and you had just collapsed from exhaustion right in front of him.

You didn’t even say goodbye.

Your stomach twisted with a feeling you couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t exactly guilt. It wasn’t exactly sadness. What? That didn’t even make sense—why would it be sadness? You didn’t even know that strange man.

But it was Inconvenience.

You shook your head, pushing the feeling away. He was no one. Just a man who happened to pass through. He did what he did and then left.

It shouldn’t bother you.

It shouldn’t…

But it did.

Letting out a long sigh, you forced yourself to stand, feeling your leg protest with a dull throb. Now, all that was left to do was go back inside and carry on with life as before.

That man was only a part of that night.

Nothing more.

Time passed.

Life at the house returned to normal—or as close to normal as it could be.

The first few days were the hardest. Your leg ached constantly, and even the simplest movements became a challenge. You avoided town when possible, not wanting to deal with questions about your injury.

But as the months passed, the pain became a manageable discomfort. The wound healed, and the swelling went down. Now, all that remained was a slight limp when you walked, because the damage hadn’t been small—if you hadn’t broken a bone, you had at least damaged a tendon or worn down part of the bone.

You adapted to it.

Mornings were always busy with small tasks: feeding the animals, chopping firewood (which you did quite poorly), fixing whatever needed repairs around the house. Sometimes, your leg protested against the strain, but you didn’t let that stop you. If you didn’t do it, no one would.

The forest, which once felt like a place of freedom, now seemed more dangerous. You still went out to gather herbs and hunt small game, but always with more caution than before.

And every now and then—just every now and then—when the wind blew strong and you heard distant hooves on the road, your heart beat just a little faster.

But it was never him.

He had left that night.

And you never saw him again.

Did you need to? What had gotten into you…?

You were never this anxious before.

You go to town some time after your recovery to buy bandages, supplies, sell something, or take care of a few problems. When you least expect it, you see HIM in the distance. He is standing near a stable, talking to a blacksmith, seemingly negotiating something. You go back to your shopping, averting your gaze.

— You’re better.

His voice makes you stop. You shiver and hesitate before responding, glancing over your shoulder and seeing the man.

— Y-Yes… I still limp a little, but I’m fine.

The conversation is brief. You feel a mix of shame and discomfort because, for some reason, you’re more nervous than you should be. Maybe because you never had the chance to properly thank him, or maybe because seeing him again reminds you of when you were injured and vulnerable.

You don’t know what to say.

— Have you been in town all this time? — you ask, more to fill the silence.

— I was around. — He doesn’t give many details.

You exchange a few words about nothing in particular before he mentions that he’s looking for work. You consider inviting him to something, but before you gather the courage, an acquaintance or a vendor calls out to you, and the moment dissolves. When you turn around again, he’s already gone.

A few weeks later, you barely think about that brief encounter anymore. Life went on.

Your leg is much better now, and your routine has returned to normal.

One afternoon, you walk to the lake where you usually fetch water. The place is quiet, only the sound of rustling leaves and the slow flow of water filling the air.

You crouch down to fill a bucket when you notice, a little further ahead, a dead campfire.

For a second, a chill runs down your spine.

The evening sky is painted in golden and pink hues as you reach the lake. The silence of the forest is broken only by the soft murmur of the running water and the birds singing as they return to their nests.

You kneel down, dip the first bucket into the cold water, and pull it back up, feeling your arms tremble under its weight.

Damn.

Your leg, though well healed, still doesn’t give you the same strength as before. You sigh in frustration and begin filling the second bucket, already planning how to balance them both on the way home.

But the moment you turn around, your heart skips an unexpected beat.

Him. The same man who had helped you.

He was there, standing near a fallen log, working on some arrows. He wore the same dark coat as last time, and your keen eyes noticed his hunting knife fastened to his belt.

Your first reaction was a slight jolt.

— You?!

The surprise escaped before you could hold it back.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

— Hi. You all right? Did I do something?

You wetted your lips, trying to regain control of your own voice.

— I just… didn’t know you were still around.

You only shrugged, tense and nervous, watching him with that irritating calmness. Irritating? No…

You averted your eyes, gripping the bucket handles tightly.

— Well, it was nice seeing you again, but I need to take this back before it gets too late.

You tried to take a step, but the weight of the water pulled your arms down. Your ankle, injured months ago, no longer hurt as much, but it still wasn’t strong enough to handle so much strain

Damn it.

Before you could react, Charles had already stepped forward.

— Let me carry that.

His voice was firm, leaving no room for discussion.

Your eyes widened.

— No need, I—

He ignored completely and took two of the buckets with ease, gripping the wooden handle without showing the slightest strain.

You stared, speechless, for a second.

— What—

— Lead the way.

You blinked, feeling your face heat up. This man was impossible.

— I… all right. This way.

The two of you started walking along the trail, with Taima following silently behind.

The thought of Charles helping you—again—suddenly made you nervous. You felt strangely flustered, and before you realized it, your voice came out louder than it should have.

— Do you always show up to rescue helpless women?

He’s cast a sidelong glance at you, a faint smirk appearing.

— Only the ones who insist on carrying more than they can handle.

You opened your mouth, offended.

— Hey! I could’ve carried it myself!

— Could. But it would’ve taken twice the time.

You had no words for that.

With a frustrated sigh, you gave up arguing.

Silence stretched between you for a few moments as you walked, until he suddenly spoke.

— Charles.

You frowned slightly and looked at him.

— What?

He glanced at you.

— My name. Charles.

You blinked a few times, surprised, before slowly nodding.

— Oh… right.

When you reached the cabin, you opened the gate and motioned toward the porch steps. By the time you arrived at the house, the sky had darkened, and the air was growing colder. You lit a lantern, opened the door, and stepped inside, leaving Charles standing at the entrance.

— You can leave it here.

Charles set the bucket down with a steady, unhurried motion. As he straightened, you realized he was probably getting ready to leave.

And for some reason, that bothered you.

Before you could think twice, the words slipped out.

— Do you want to come in for a bit?

Charles looked at you, slightly surprised by the sudden invitation.

Your stomach twisted.

— I mean, since you helped me, the least I can do is offer you some tea. Or, I don’t know, some food, since I… was already preparing something to eat.

He hesitated.

You swallowed, feeling your nerves rise.

— I don’t want to be a bother, miss. I—

— You’re not! — It’s fine, d-don’t feel forced…! — you cut him off before he could finish.

But after a brief moment, Charles simply gave a small nod.

— All right. I accept.

You held your breath.

Why did it feel like you kept getting yourself into this?

With a quiet sigh, you opened the door wider and stepped inside, lighting a lantern.

He followed right behind.

The familiar scent of wood and dried herbs filled the air. He glanced around the room with a calm expression, as if taking in every detail.

— I’ll get something ready. Won’t take long.

Charles simply settled near the fireplace, in no hurry at all.

The warm glow of the oil lamp flickered softly as you moved through the kitchen, the comforting scent of maple syrup filling the air. Your hands worked with practiced ease, but your mind was elsewhere—on the man sitting in the other room, quiet, patient. It had been a long time since a man sat in that armchair, the one your father always claimed as his. Somehow, it made your chest feel tight.

You turned back to your task, focusing on preparing something warm and sweet. Maple syrup pudding—a simple but rich dessert, perfect for keeping the cold at bay. You mixed the flour with brown sugar and butter, your fingers pressing into the dough until it crumbled just right. The maple syrup warmed in a pot with milk, its golden color thickening as you stirred. Once combined, the mixture went into the cast-iron oven, filling the kitchen with its familiar scent.

You wiped your hands on a cloth, glancing toward the doorway. He was still there, unmoving, only the sound of the fire crackling beside him.

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for the teapot.

—You alright?”

His deep voice startled you, making you jump just a little. You quickly turned your back to him, pretending to adjust something on the counter.

“Aye, just fine,you muttered, your accent slipping in the words.

The tea leaves swirled in the steaming water as you tried to shake off the strange nervousness pressing against your ribs. You weren’t sure why you felt so restless. Maybe it was just the presence of someone else in your home—someone who wasn’t passing through, who wasn’t a neighbor stopping by for trade.

Someone who had helped you.

The pudding was ready, golden and fragrant, and you carefully scooped two portions onto plates. You hesitated as you reached for the silverware, glancing once more at the man still seated by the fire.

There was something about his presence that filled the space in a way you weren’t used to. Not intrusive, not uncomfortable—just there, solid and steady, like he had always belonged.

You set the plates down on the wooden table, fingers lingering on the edge of one as if debating your next words. Then, before you could overthink it, you spoke.

–C’mon, then. No point lettin’ it go cold.

He turned his head slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to call him over. Then, without a word, he pushed himself up from the chair, his movements slow and deliberate. The floor creaked under his boots as he crossed the room, and when he sat across from you, the space between you suddenly felt much smaller.

You watched as he took the first bite, his expression unreadable at first—until you caught the slight, approving nod.

–This is good—he finally said.

You smirked, scooping up a bite for yourself.

– ’Course it is.

For a while, the two of you ate in comfortable silence, the fire casting long shadows on the wooden walls. But curiosity gnawed at you, and eventually, you set your spoon down.

–Your accent…—You studied him. –Y’ain’t from ‘round here, are ya?

Charles shook his head

–No. I came from the States. Needed a fresh start.—he say.

You nodded slowly, watching him carefully. Then, after another moment, you tilted your head.

–Why are you camping out there instead of staying in town? Surely there's a room for you somewhere.- You ask him as you take a sip of tea

His fingers drummed lightly against the table before he exhaled.

–I don’t do well in towns. A big Black man takin’ up space in a place like this… it draws attention. The wrong kind.— He say, his grip on the teacup tightened slightly.

Your his grip on the teacup tightened slightly, swallowing dry feeling his discomfort.

–Y’don’t strike me as the violent type.

–I’m not,— he said simply. –But some people don’t care about that.-

The weight of his words settled between you, heavier than before. You let out a slow breath and nudged his cup toward him.

– Drink up. Tea won’t stay warm forever. –You gave a little smile without even realizing it.

A small, almost amused smile flickered at the corner of his lips.

–No, I suppose it won’t.–He say

And so, you drank in silence, the fire crackling beside you as the night slowly settled in

—————————

Keep going! It really took me a long time to think of everything and write it down, I barely have any time to spare.... intend to post a second part next week, if anyone has suggestions for things to put in another two or one more chapter, PLEASE send them to me on my dm or on tumblr's ask's, anonymous or not. I love questions and suggestions, they help me write faster and better. Bye bye ~

List of people: @photo1030 and @aotlover2002

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 42]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 42 - The story of There Are Monsters Nearby concludes as Scar and Grian turn away from their past and look towards the future.

📝 Words: 11,088

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 42 on AO3

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“I want you to get Pop Tarts,” Grian says, his attention cast to the side while Scar works, looking towards the settlement in the distance. It’s a fair ways off, looking more like a grey-brown smudge from where they stand— a collection of RVs and camper vans clustered close together in the lee of a grassy ridge, the surrounding hills fringed in sparse junipers and hardy looking spruce saplings. There’s an open space between them, dotted with small lumps that Scar knows are grazing cattle and a clustered herd of goats.

The ruins of a city lay further off to the east, the handful of buildings not blackened from fire standing empty and abandoned. It’s from there that the zombies have been drifting out, a perpetual source of mindless, wandering horror. Though now, thanks to Scar’s aim and Grian’s tenacious knack for violence, the tide will hopefully have been stemmed to some degree.

“And whatever milk and cheese they’ve got. I saw all their animals, there’s no way they don’t have dairy to spare.”

It’s an endearing quirk that Grian has adopted ever since it became clear his diet was permanently changed. He likes to pick things for Scar to eat now, planning and suggesting his meals with whatever they scavenge, hunt, and barter. He’s never been a good cook, not even before the world fell apart, but it’s been sweet the way he's applied himself to improving, the two times he gave Scar food poisoning already becoming fond memories in their own way.

When the last zombie’s head has been separated from its body, Scar yanks a glove onto his hand and begins gathering them all, shoving each one into a canvas sack that he uses for the sole purpose of demonstrating their worth to any sceptical marks they come across. Once he’s done, he sets the bag down, putting out his arm and drawing Grian in close.

“Good work out there,” he compliments, pressing a kiss to the top of his partner’s head. Grian’s hair is clean and smells incredibly good—like sandalwood and something crisp—everything about him well-maintained, despite the state of the world around them. “You really treated those googlies like you had a score to settle.”

Without hesitation Grian leans into Scar’s touch, the easy return of his affection still a novelty, despite how many weeks Scar’s been allowed and able to enjoy it.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he offers, his words mumbled sweetly into the thick flannel of Scar’s shirt. “You’re getting to have a real hawk-eye with your aim, you know.”

“I love it when you say I’m a hot guy,” Scar preens, deliberately mishearing him. “Got a real nice ring to it.”

[ read more ]

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Chapter 42! 380k words and ten months later, we are so happy to announce that we've come to the end of our story. While there's still so much more of TAMN left that we plan to write and share, this portion is over, and we couldn't be happier. Thank you so, so much for going on this journey with us, and we hope you enjoy the epilogue and ending of There Are Monsters Nearby 💜🧡

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

⋆*·ﾟI read it in your eyes... misa x putellas!femreader

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

a night out appears to be the turning point in the journey of dealing with your heartbreak and, once again, misa is there to witness what she probably shouldn't have.

or; part of the as the flowers bloom, my heart does too universe

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

The van stopped on the curb of a small street, trees lining up every few metres and a tram whizzing past across the street. Alexia jumped out, walked up to the creme-coloured brick apartment building and dug a key out of her pocket before disappearing behind the doors. Alba pressed her face against the window of the van, eyes looking up as she sighed in exasperation,

"Bathroom light is still on. Prepare to wait for another decade before she's done." She tried to joke, but her face was set in a grimace. Misa wondered if it had anything to do with Alexia having had the same reaction when asked about her little sister earlier that week.

"Are you sure her girlfriend isn't keeping her hostage and forbidding her to leave?"

"God, yeah, remember when she whisked her away the second we touched down from Ibiza that one time? Those two are super-glued together."

A set of giggles rang through the car, but a few women, who clearly had more intel, fell silent.

Alba's lips immediately set into a thin line, "They've broken up, and this is the only time I'll warn you guys to never bring that woman up again. She's a pariah, a fucking deadly disease. For all I know, she doesn't exist. Or at least I can pretend she doesn't." Alba muttered the last part, crossing her arms and sinking into her seat with her eyebrows furrowed and a far-away look on her face. It still hurt her that she hadn't stepped in sooner, how she could've saved most of the heartbreak if she hadn't trusted you when you told her you were just going through a rough patch, and that was all. Her need to protect you had been there ever since newborn-you had been carefully put into her and Alexia's lap, and she'd played with your tiny fingers and watched you coo. Though she had been young herself, she had managed to comprehend the unspoken responsibility that came with being an older sister. Yet, she'd still failed by dismissing her worries when she thought you were mature enough and that you deserved her trust and respect. You'd told her not to worry, that you could handle it, and she'd given you the trust and support to back that claim. If only Alba had known what had really been going on behind closed doors, things might have been different now.

The van was awfully silent after Alba's comment for all of the five minutes it took for Alexia to reappear with you strolling behind her, face cast down to the ground where your heels clacked against the cobblestoned pavement. The short maroon summer dress that clung to your upper thighs made you look absolutely gorgeous, even if it made Misa feel oddly underdressed with her jeans and top. But even if you'd decided to wear joggers and a sweater, she knew you would've still outshone everyone in that van. In her eyes, anyway.

She caught the quickest glance of your face, despite you making it your job to barely lift your head to acknowledge the others in a silent greeting, but she had managed to catch the sullen look nonetheless.

The intense scent of freshly applied perfume wafted through the van, and Misa, ashamedly so, realised it wasn't the same one you'd used during your last vacation. That one had been soft and light, with a tinge of something citrusy, something fresh. Perhaps, it was your designated summer scent, and going to a club required something a little heavier to stick through the night. Your powdery floral musk enveloped her senses, and she had no other option but to bask in it as the van revved and left your street.

Alexia had gently ushered you to sit between her and Olga, your sister's girlfriend immediately pulling you into her side. Misa watched from the back row as you let her, like some brittle puppet who otherwise couldn't sit up without crumbling. Alexia and Olga shared a look over your head, like a silent exchange of their worries, allegiance and support for you. But Misa realised it was a silent promise when they dipped their heads in confirmation.

The van never erupted into loud laughter again, not after Alba's breaking news, but the occasional whispered small talks softly picked up again.

A ringtone cut through the hushed silence, Hey Ya! by Outkast blaring through the van. Feeling the vibration in your lap, you opened your clutch and dug out your phone, surprised to see the caller ID on there.

Though Alexia had deleted everything that reminded you of your ex-girlfriend from life, she hadn't breached your privacy and taken your phone to get rid of the countless photos and text messages she knew were still on there. She thought you would've been wise enough to do so yourself, seeing what your ex had done to you.

Still, it surprised her when she curiously glanced at your screen. Her brows shot up to her hairline, and she immediately made a move to snatch the device out of your hands, not even to restrict you from answering, per se, but to give the woman who had ruined you another piece of her mind.

"No- Alexia!" You rushed out, holding the phone out of her reach, knowing full well what she would do if she got your phone, "Please, don't make it worse."

Her face was pure disgust and malice, "Why's she calling?"

"Well, I wouldn't know without answering, would I?"

She gave you a pointed look at your attitude. That side of you hadn't come out since your teenage years, and though she missed when you'd still been young and innocent since those days had been fleeting, she didn't want them to return to her like this.

"You're not thinking of answering her, are you?" She shot back harshly, missing the way Olga softly shook her head to not give in and fuel her little sister's fire.

You gasped when the phone was plucked out of your grip from behind, long nails scratching your hand through the movement. Instantly, you turned around to stare at Alba's blank face. The chipper tune of the song still cut through the charged silence before your sister turned off your phone and pushed it beneath the strap of her bra, enveloping the van in silence again. Well, only momentarily.

You gaped at her, bewildered.

"Give me my phone back."

Alba gave her chest a little tap, a gesture to secure the phone, but by doing so, putting salt in the open wound, "Not until I trust you are strong enough to not let it get to you again."

"Who are you to make that decision?" You snapped, all sense and resolve gone. You had let your ex dictate your entire life, play and push you around like some puppet on a string. You weren't going to let anyone else tell you what to do or say. Not anymore.

"I'm your sister and I'm looking out for you, something I should've done months ago. Now, turn around and stop sulking. You look like an angry child throwing a fit because she has missed her nap. Venga-" Alba spoke with an air of finality, waving you off and not crumbling under the deathly glare you directed her way.

Humiliation was the feeling that washed over you when your eyes finally went around the van. No one met your eyes. They probably tried their hardest to disappear or pretend they weren't breaching what obviously should've been a very private conversation.

Misa quickly looked at the world behind the window when she noticed your eyes roaming across the back row to find hers. But you never succeeded.

Two arms slung around your waist from both sides of you, but you pushed them off, irked and irritated by the comfort Olga and Alexia were trying to give you. You'd never been good at switching your emotions on and off when things got heated like this. You were still mad. They needed to let you sit with your anger until it would fade out naturally and you could accept their well-meant comfort again.

'She's right, you know. We only want what's best for you,', Alexia wanted to say that and so much more when she watched your jaw tense and your bottom lip wobble, but knew not to bother you in your state of distress. Pushing you to let others help you with your emotions or having you communicate what you were feeling before you could calm down usually only made things worse. Your family had learned that the hard way. It had been a thing ever since you were little, and it had usually brought out temper outbursts whenever they'd gone against it. Whereas those would've been able to be dealt with with your favourite stuffed animal and snack, or by the mere sight of your father's fond smile, your sisters weren't quite sure how to comfort you this time around. Not when they'd thought that your girlfriend had taken the place of being your rock, the one to calm you down. If only they'd known she'd been the one to make you feel as little as she could, things would've been different.

You let the tears trickle down your cheeks, refusing to wipe them away and show everyone sitting in the rows behind you that you were crying. So what if it ruined your makeup? It wasn't like anyone in the club would see, or care, for that matter. They'd only care for your lips, and they were still coated in a freshly applied layer of gloss, puckered and ready to be kissed.

It was as if Alexia knew of your plans the second you all stepped out and walked down the stairs to the underground club. And, well, perhaps she did know after having watched a woman walk out of your apartment when she was going up to check on you. She'd caught on twice, although you figured the second time had been because Alexia'd had a hunch and her worried self had cared more for your wellbeing and her unanswered texts than the possibility of her getting scarred by what she could walk into. But when she realised the second woman was a different one than the first, she'd gotten mad and lectured you about all the things you didn't want to talk about. Who was she to tell you how to live your life? You were young, single and sexually frustrated and wanted to take advantage of that. You wanted to be worshipped and cared for, no matter how fleeting, and didn't care that there weren't real feelings of love involved. At least, that was what you tried to convince yourself.

When she'd seen you practically glued to some woman's lips and leave with her the last time you'd gone to this exact club, Alexia knew the only person you needed to be glued to that night, was her. It was already a miracle that she'd let you tag along, but, after careful consideration, she realised it was better to keep you where she could see you than to leave you in your apartment, inviting god knows who to keep you company. You knew she’d told Alba all about it, but were eternally grateful she hadn’t let your mother in on your recent activities, knowing full well the woman would barricade you in your childhood room and smother you with her motherly love until you were feeling okay again and not finding comfort with strangers.

The music was thunderous against the walls, and the purple hue was a recurring colour in the club. Alexia's hand found yours and she squeezed onto it for dear life when you pushed through the many bodies and toward your reserved booth. She purposefully trapped you among her friends, even pushing you to sit down when you'd tried to excuse yourself with some lame lie about needing to go to the bathroom already.

Alba scooted beside you, draping her legs playfully over your lap, but you knew it was a ploy to further trap you in your seat. You heard her snicker when you refused to look at her because you were clearly still mad at her. What annoyed you even further, was that you knew Alba couldn't care less. She'd done what she had set out to do, and that proud smile on her face said it all. She had always been insufferable when she got like that.

When you'd been younger, your mood swings had usually been diffused by your father, but after he had passed and you'd been in your pre-teens, Eli'd had her hands full trying to rope you in and get you and Alba out of each other's hair. Your temperaments had always been a little too similar to coerce peacefully. It had been a real challenge to keep your emotions in check, especially right after it had happened when you'd felt like a life raft floating on the open ocean. The feeling of loss had been just as difficult to navigate as the feeling of helplessness you'd felt. There wasn't anything you could have done for your father, besides comfort him the way he had comforted you for years. And there was nothing that could comfort you now that he was gone. Therapy had only helped to an extent, if you even let your therapists get close to solving you.

Alexia had already been spending all of her time on the pitch, so she'd, fortunately, missed most of those teenage fights. It was the only thing she never regretted missing out on. But without your father and with your mother out working to take care of her three young girls, you were left to listen to your older sisters, despite your clear loathing of it. And when Alexia was out as well, that meant you'd had to listen to Alba. And my, had she revelled with that power. It never helped that she often used that power to end discussions, even when she was clearly in the wrong. But if you didn't listen, you knew she would blab to your mother about something she wasn't supposed to know. Looking back at it now, you realised how your bond had grown. She was your big sister, had taken care of you when she'd been young and hurting herself and was effortlessly slipping into that role again right now. But, even if you knew she did it out of love, you couldn't help but grow a little irritated.

You pushed her legs off your lap, then rolled your eyes as she playfully groaned when she realised you weren't going to break.

"You're not going to ruin my night with that mood of yours, are you?"

You huffed and looked out over the dance floor. Your night was already ruined, that much was clear. You hadn't really been that opposed to tagging along and spending some time with your sisters and Alexia's friends, though you knew Alexia's laser eyes would make it damn near impossible for you to leave with someone. But now that you were here and couldn't even indulge, you were already counting down the time.

"Wipe that look off your face, it's not attractive."

"My resting bitch face has never given me any trouble here before."

Alba grumbled out an ew at the clear insinuation, and you counted that as a slight victory for your cause.

"Here-"

You watched the drink Alexia set in front of you, immediately making a face when you realised it was a simple Sprite. Even Alba gave her sister a questioning look.

Alexia, as if she'd already been expecting such a reaction from the two of you, gave in and handed you her alcoholic drink instead.

"Have mine then."

You eyed the rose-coloured drink, "What is it?"

"Pink gin with a red fruit tonic."

Alba scrunched her nose in disgust, "That's just an alcoholic lemonade."

"I swear, you have the taste buds of a child."

Alexia's mouth broke into a grin when you spoke, "Says the girl who drinks more Capri Sun than what's good for her."

Alba grabbed the pink gin and tonic and gave it a sip, face not contorting in nausea, as you'd half expected. She slapped her lips together, "Not terrible. Still not my thing."

With your sister distracted, you eyed the outline of your phone beneath her dress, but Alba already held up a finger to silence whatever plea was going to come out of your mouth.

"Don't even entertain the thought."

You threw your head back against the seat, "I want to go home. Can you call me a taxi?"

"And have her wait on your doorstep after you haven't answered her calls just now? Absolutely not." Alexia said, nicking her drink from Alba again, knowing neither of her sisters would drink it anyway.

"Then give me your phone, I'm bored."

Alexia sighed but obliged, watching as you opened her Candy Crush app, knowing you would likely close it again with a huff after seeing her unreasonably high level and knowing you weren't feeling that kind of mental stimuli right now.

And, just like she'd expected, you locked her phone with an exasperated groan.

"Want mine and find me some hot dates on Tinder?" Alba wiggled her brows, eyes brightening when she saw the intrigue on your face. Although maybe it had caught your interest for a more mischievous reason, she realised quickly.

"No-" She pulled her phone back before it could fall into your hand, "-be serious about it. No silly messages that'll make me look like a fool."

"Okay. Promise."

"And you know my type."

"Eiza González in Dusk Till Dawn?"

Alba slapped your head, "No, that's your type. Don't push your gay-awakening onto me." She grinned at the hurt look on your face, "And we surely aren't forgetting that your first girlfriend was a carbon copy of her, right?"

"Remind me why we ever broke up?" You complained, realising she was right.

Alba cackled, "Go reach out to her, I know there are still some feelings there. Second chances are a thing, you know?" She side-eyed you, realising her mistake of bringing up dating around you the second she saw the look on your face. She changed the subject to what she hoped would make you chat away enthusiastically, "Tell me again why you liked that character?"

"Oh, come on. Her in leather? On the motorcycle? With her fangs out? When her eyes change colour? Ordering men around? And that one scene where she danced with the snake?!"

"Clearly you're still infatuated," She poked at your ribs, but felt incredibly relieved to see the sudden moment of carefreeness appear on your face, "Honestly, I only watched it because you made me watch it with you, and it kept you quiet and distracted."

Now it was your hand that slapped her head.

She laughed, "Plus, it was fun watching you watch the show. I figured out you were a lady kisser way before you even knew it yourself."

You shrugged, "Well, Kisa was my Edward Cullen."

"Who?!"

"Kisa!? Santanico! The vampire queen?! Eiza's character," You rolled your eyes.

"Oh wow, forgive me for forgetting a character from a show we watched ten years ago- jesus."

Misa took a sip of her drink and watched while slowly but surely, the annoyance that had previously been etched into your face disappeared the longer you chatted with your sister. It seemed you started to warm up to her again— occasionally showing Alba her phone, which got paired with eyebrow wiggles and giggles. Misa hadn't realised how much she'd missed your laughter when it broke through the cacophony of the club chaos.

Upon hearing your laugh, Alba immediately snatched the phone from your hands, afraid you'd done exactly what you'd promised her not to. But when she saw the source of your amusement, her worry settled.

"Ten euros that she superliked you just for laughs," You almost instantly tapped the blue star on the profile of your childhood best friend, Abril, and cheered when the screen displayed a pop-up.

"Pay up!"

"No, I never agreed to anything," Alba playfully pulled at a loose strand of your hair, slightly yanking your head to the side. You didn't react to it, having been used to all the bullying as the youngest child.

You rolled your eyes, quickly typing a 'hey sexy lady' to Abril before your sister snatched the phone away and added a middlefinger emoji to the chat.

You perked up when Alba's phone vibrated, then typed away as Abril replied with a playful retort.

"Aw, shucks, she knows it is me."

"Duh, she knows I wouldn't ever superlike her," Alba sniggered.

Alba locked her phone and put it away, calling it quits for you on the Tinder matchmaking for the night. You sat back in your seat, eyes going over the many people in the club who seemed to be having way more fun than you.

To your right, Alexia's teammates scooted out of the booth. Your face lit up when Jenni turned to you, her hand outstretched and fingers wiggling as an invite.

Alexia and Alba shared a look, then nodded at each other, before turning to you.

"Go, have some fun," Alexia nodded, a soft smile on her face to tell you it was all right.

Alba's hand fell on your lower back and smoothed out your dress as you stood up and shimmied out of the booth. She gave your butt a slap, "But disappear on us and I'll tell mama you lost your virginity under her roof."

You turned around, cheeks flushed and a scowl on your face, "How- You guys weren't even home?!"

Alba shrugged, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, "Should've been more slick about it then."

"Don't-" Alexia pinched the bridge of her nose, "Don't use that word in that context, por favor."

"Well, you don't even know if it happened or not."

"Pretty sure you just confirmed it?"

You muttered profanities under your breath, "If you tell her, I'll tell her you dented her car when you tried to parallel park and not someone who drove into you at the grocery store."

"I wouldn't expect anything less. Just behave, laelia." She puckered her lips and made kissing noises, laughing at the look on your face, clearly still trying to decipher how in the world she knew of what you thought had been your secret.

You shook it off and took the olive branch Jenni presented you with both hands and almost fled the scene with her and the others, mind set on getting yourself a proper drink first before any other plans could be made.

You waved the bartender over and leaned against the bar as you watched her mix your chosen poison when you felt a presence beside you. That was fast, you thought, but was surprised to see one of your sister's national teammates land on the vacant stool next to you.

"Hey," Misa nodded her head, then ordered a drink, eyes roaming across the many bottles on display and not meeting those of your own as you stared at her. Misa had been a mystery to you since the start. She hadn't been rude to you per se, just... closed off. And with you especially. It was something you'd sometimes encountered before, but those times, you could clearly see the interest and adoration in people's faces, a little too intimidated by your energy and beauty to approach. It felt different with Misa. As if she didn't even want to indulge in a glance your way. Had you done something off-putting in her presence that you weren't aware of? The distance she clearly maintained between the two of you, even after many a dinner sat next to one another, was odd. Still, you didn't want to give up on getting her out of her shell around you. You'd succeed. One day.

"Having fun?" You had to lean in to her to be heard over the music. Misa's smile was friendly, but as friendly as a stranger reciprocating a smile from across the street. Nothing too welcoming, nothing that notified she was one of your sister's closest friends and that you had actually shared two weeks basking in the sun together.

"Now I am," She motioned at the beer bottle that was set in front of her, "-you?"

The bartender slid your drink over to you, topping it off with a straw and a pearly white smile, "Now I am." You smiled devilishly and reused her words, eyeing the woman who had made your drink a little longer than necessary when you slid over a ten euro bill.

"Salud!"

Misa clinked her bottle with your glass before you both took a sip. You turned around, back against the bar and fingers toying with the black straw as your eyes flitted across the dance floor.

Misa watched you, heart hammering against her chest faster than the music around her. She knew she was supposed to say something, knew that you were expecting her to. But how was she to think straight when you were right there, close enough to touch if she turned around in her stool, your perfume intoxicating her in all the right ways? Her eyes raked your body, watching how the fabric of your dress tugged around the curves of your breasts, hips and bottom, how your bare legs got her as hypnotised as those soft locks of yours she wanted to reach out and touch. She watched your fingers readjust the necklace on your chest, how they left droplets on your skin from the condensation of your drink. She couldn't help but stare as it trickled down your cleavage.

She froze when you suddenly turned around, head tilting as you watched her intently. She'd been caught staring at your breasts, and her face turned ten shades darker.

Your mouth moved but she couldn't comprehend the words in her state of panicked embarrassment. She could only watch the healthy blush that had appeared on your face since stepping into the stuffy club, how you looked at her from underneath your eyelashes as if you could see right through her. And, perhaps you could. Especially after she had just ogled your plunging neckline. The fear that thought came with shook Misa out of her stupor.

"Come again?" She leaned in, trying to blame the booming sound around you, head moving to the side so as to not come any closer to your breasts and betray her feelings even more.

"Wanna dance?"

Misa was thankful for the distorted purple lighting around her, for she was sure you would've caught her blushing right away.

"Um, I don't really dance. But thanks."

She did dance. Hell, she liked to dance. She'd wanted to get silly and let loose all the stress and pressure of the hard week. But dancing with you would only add to her nerves and stress and it would do nothing to help her crush on you, which was multiplying every second she spent near you. Even after weeks or months of not seeing you, just the slightest tease of a glance at you or mention of your existence could reawaken her feelings.

Misa saw your face fall momentarily, but you seemed to shake it off.

"Can you watch my drink while I'm gone? If you want to go back to the booth, it's okay, but if you do, just bring my drink along because I did not spend nine euros for five sips, only for it to go to waste." You laughed heartedly, and Misa swore she could fly. She'd always basked in your sweet and light energy, but whenever it was directed to her, even for a split second, Misa found herself on another planet entirely. A very pink one with butterflies flitting all over.

"Sure," She grinned, albeit with a kind of timidness that was new to her.

"And don't you dare take a sip, because I'll know if you do." You pointed a finger at her, eyes narrowed but lips curved into a ludic smile. Her eyes fell on your lips, then quickly glanced at your eyes, realising she shouldn't get caught staring at your breasts and lips all within the same minute.

Tud, tud, tud, tud, tud, tud-

Misa felt her fastening heartbeat drum in her ears and ribcage as she swallowed and shook her head, a breathy chuckle getting lost in the noise of the club. You turned around, threw your hair over your shoulder and disappeared into the crowd as a new song started to play.

Misa had stayed there for ten minutes, sipping her beer occasionally while fiercely guarding your drink with her hand, shielding it whenever anyone walked by. When she'd finished her drink, she'd had a brief moment of bravery and had considered finding you in the dancing crowd after all. She could do it. There was nothing wrong with dancing with friends during a night out, especially not after drinks had been involved, albeit only one or two. Her beer had barely gotten her tipsy, she needed more of that, but she wanted to keep her wits about her if she were to interact with you. One misplaced word or longing look and she would be discovered. Remaining undetected had proven a difficult task even while sober. Still, she knew that she could dance beside you, especially if the others were with you. But that daydream had popped when your maroon dress appeared in her peripheral.

You had closed your eyes, giving in to the music and letting your hands glide sensually over your curves. You oozed self-assuredness, elegance and sexiness, displaying how truly comfortable you were in your own skin. You could've gotten lost in the music and was nearly at the point of forgetting where you were when you felt someone behind you.

Misa watched as your body moved with a fluid, sensual kind of grace that had her captivated, but she got distracted by the tall and tanned woman approaching you. She had wavy black hair and looked like some damned ancient goddess with her height and poise. She was tightly pressed against your back, her hands on your hips as you both danced in sync with the rhythm of the music. Misa watched in horror as one of the woman's hands glided from your hip to your stomach, then further upwards until she pulled your chin to the side so she could look at you. As soon as she leaned in, you didn't push her off like Misa had expected you to, but you turned around and snaked your arms around her neck, pushing your hips flush against her.

Misa turned away when your hand grabbed a fistful of those black locks and you moved in the hot and heavy pace of your feverish makeout. She stood there, frozen, your drink in her hand and her heart crumbling as fast as her confidence.

Back to the booth it was, it seemed. She pushed herself off the stool, taking one last glance to see if you'd seen reason and pushed the woman off after all, but sighed and retreated. All her bravery and hope had vanished and she felt pathetic for ever thinking of dancing with you like some foolish teenage girl dancing with her crush at her senior year's school prom. The reference instantly reminded her that all it would and could ever be, was a crush. A silly, pitiful crush.

"What's happened?" Patri asked as soon as she saw how faraway in her thoughts Misa seemed.

"Nothing?" Misa pushed out a chuckle, carefully setting down the drink she'd guarded for the past fifteen minutes, in vain.

"Fucking hell-" Sounded, and everyone looked at Alexia, whose eyes were glaring at something happening in the background. Going by the tone and rigidness in your sister's posture, Misa could take a good guess what it was about.

You had lost yourself in the heady feeling of growing desire with the stranger in your arms. And if Misa had felt uneasy, she could only guess the level of discomfort Alexia was in seeing her littlest sister engaging in such... activities.

"Ale-" Olga quickly pulled her girlfriend back down.

"I can't stand this self-destructing behaviour any longer. I knew this would happen if we'd take her. It's painful to watch."

"She's... she's just kissing, though?" Mariona wondered, not seeing the problem in a young and single woman having some fun and letting go of her inhibitions for the night.

Laia blew out a breath, "More like getting her face eaten off."

"I thought she was with Jenni and the others?!" Alexia grumbled, turning her head to not have to see her little sister practically dry-humping a stranger, "Where's Alba?"

"Bathroom."

Patri had barely even answered when they watched the situation unfold before them. Alba had walked out of the bathroom, clearly having been met with the same distasteful display right in front of her and not going to tolerate whatever bullshit coping mechanism this was.

"Oh, no."

You felt a set of arms pull at your waist from behind, tearing you from the stranger's grasp. A split second later, you went from being glued to one torso to the other, but as soon as you heard her voice, you knew you were in deep trouble.

"We're going home." Alba growled.

With wide eyes from both shock and the desire still lingering somewhere within you, you watched as the woman you'd been dancing with took a step towards your sister, clearly wanting to intimidate her after the stunt she'd just pulled with you. She couldn't have a clue who Alba was. In her eyes, your sister was just another woman who'd had a little too much to drink and had crossed a line and made you uncomfortable. She glared at your sister, and though she was two heads taller than Alba, the tiny spitfire of your sister beside you wasn't impressed.

"Hands off her." The woman spoke, eyes softening as she looked at you, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine-" You spat through gritted teeth as you harshly pulled yourself out of Alba's grip, sending her a nasty glare.

"Should we go?" She wondered, and you nodded. The woman's hand found yours, clearly still pent up with the same carnal craving swirling through her body, and wanting you to relieve her of it. But as she went to pull you out of the crowd, you were turned around.

Alba pushed your phone against your chest, eyes spitting fire but lip trembling as she realised she'd clearly lost any and all control over you. Especially at a time when she so desperately wanted to be there and guide you through your heartbreak. In a time when you needed her to stop you from making mistakes. Whatever you had been doing lately— trying to find solace in strangers to prove you weren't as unlovable as your ex had made you feel, to fill the emptiness, to feel longed after and cared for, even if the care had only sexual undertones. To get your frustrations out, then cry yourself to sleep afterwards and not leave your bed unless you had to go to work. It pained her how she was helpless. She couldn't believe how you didn't realise that putting a plaster on a gaping wound was laughable at best, but here you were, planting another plaster on the open wound of your heart, while letting the blood seep through your fingers.

When she looked at you, she knew she'd lost you entirely.

"Here, in case you wound up in some ditch and need us to get you." She spat, unable to mask her true feelings and be gentle towards you, and not let her own pain translate into fury. She had half hoped the interaction would shake some sense into you, but she scoffed and watched as you left.

Alba returned to the booth, immediately having to justify herself when Alexia was in her face, asking why the hell she would let you go so easily.

"Honestly, Ale, what's the use in fighting any longer? At this point I'm just waiting for her to smack face first into the ground to come to her senses, since we've clearly not gotten anywhere with our kind words and gentle coaxing." Alba sat down, head in her hands as she let out a big breath.

"You're letting her go home with some stranger and that doesn't worry you?!"

Alba looked up from her hands and shrugged, no energy left to fight it, "She's an adult. If she thinks she can handle it, then she'll have to handle it. She needs to make mistakes to learn from them." Alba shot back, "And it's not like she'll get pregnant. The only thing you'll have to worry about is her catching some STD, and even that won't be your problem."

Alexia opened her mouth, waving her hands around, feeling incredulous while trying to come up with words. She knew that the longer she waited, you would be one step closer to getting in some cab and starting her downward spiral of worries until you'd text her again, letting her know you were alive.

"I told myself that if she would try to leave with someone, I'd follow her out. She's staying here, and that's final." Alexia darted through the crowd, mind set, ignoring the pleas to stay put. She wasn't going to sit idle and let something happen to you again when she was right there and able to do something about it this time.

"God, she's going to embarrass her, isn't she?" Patri winced, already playing out the scene in her head of Alexia pulling you out of your fling's arms mid-kiss, much like Alba had done just now.

"Y/N's made her bed. Now she must lie in it."

Misa glanced at Alba, who seemed so calm and wise in comparison to merely two minutes ago on the dancefloor. It was as if a switch had been flicked off inside of your sister, as if she had suddenly stopped caring. But Misa knew that could never be it, and she was proven right when Alba's chin wobbled, betraying her true feelings.

When Alexia returned ten minutes later, sporting the same defeated look, she knew your sister had failed in her attempt to stop you.

"I can't find her anywhere. She's gone." She leaned into Olga, accepting the comfort of her arms, "Can I have my phone? I want to text her to stay safe. She needs to know she can call me if something's wrong."

Olga gave her girlfriend a pained smile but grabbed Alexia's phone out of her bag nonetheless.

It hurt so much more to have her phone open in the Candy Crush app, where you'd locked it, the over-the-top pink theme contrasting with her gloomy mood.

Olga perched her chin atop Alexia's shoulder and watched her type a message your way, "We'll be here when she needs us, Ale. That's all we can-"

Alexia jumped in her seat when someone harshly plopped down beside her. Her eyes widened when she witnessed your red-rimmed eyes and quivering chin. You knew how you looked and that, along with your actions from earlier, which you knew they'd all seen, filled you with shame. You didn't dare to look at who else was sitting in the booth to find out who had seen your pitiful display. You didn't even want to think how much of a fool you'd made yourself to be, and how differently they would surely start seeing you now.

"I'm sorry." You croaked out through your old tears, feeling the new ones burn in your eyes.

"Y/N! What the-" Alba perked up in her seat, all anger gone as she reached her arm across the table to get closer to you, hold onto your arm, fingers, your hand, hell- she didn't care. Her hand found yours and she winced at how hard you squeezed.

"Are you okay?!" Alexia asked, the boulder only half lifting off her chest with you beside her. Seeing how distraught you were didn't help. And seeing how hard you were biting into your bottom lip to hide how you were really feeling, hurt her even more.

They all looked at you, waiting for an answer, and once more Misa was made feeling like an intruder by your sudden appearance.

After some long seconds of trying to gain control over the wobble in your throat, you croaked out,

"Her name was Carmen."

Your shoulders shook with the sobs you tried to gently leave your mouth, but you failed massively at hiding them. Feeling looked at, you dropped Alba's hand and hid your face in your hands, muffling the sounds and the sight to any onlooker.

Your sisters' faces fell, knowing the significance of that name and why it had hurt to meet a stranger with the same one. Alexia's strong arm pulled you into her embrace, and it tore at her heart when she felt you push against her hold, not wanting to truly accept her comfort, as if you didn't feel deserving of it after having worried her and not listened to her. She knew it was how you could get- distant and wanting to solve your problems by yourself- but it didn't hurt any less knowing that you didn't want to let go of your sorrows and let your oldest sister hold onto them for you, even if only for a little while.

Realising that the feeling you'd wanted to escape had been put there by a woman with the same name, had tipped you over the edge. As soon as the stranger had asked you your name and had whispered hers in your ear in return, you'd crumbled, pushing yourself out of her arms.

Alba got up and crouched beside the seat, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your leg.

"Laelia, hey- look at me."

You heard Alexia coax, but only pushed your hands further against your face to the brim of suffocating yourself, if your sobs weren't already doing so. The makeup of your eyes was probably caked up in a messy mix right now, but you couldn't care less.

Alba gave a thankful smile to the girls in the booth who got up to excuse themselves, one by one. Alexia gently pried your hands off your face and dapped at your eyes with a napkin.

Your eyes then fell on the drink you'd ordered earlier that night, and you quickly took a few sips. Misa's throat tightened as your eyes locked across the booth. It was as if the drink had made you think of her... had made you look for her. She'd take it. She'd take any thought of her that would pop into your mind, even hoping it would bring you some much-needed distraction in your current state. Misa hated how she was making this situation about her crush on you again, and instantly looked away, waiting for her turn to slide out off the circular bench to give the three sisters some space.

You slurped every last drop out of your glass with the straw, then stood up, resolutely. Your sisters already opened their mouth in protest, but you waved off their worries.

"I need some fresh air. I promise I won't leave. I just- I need to get away from all this noise." You motioned around you but were talking about the chaos in your mind that screamed at you to be heard over the music.

Alexia stood up, but you pushed her back in her seat, not unkindly.

"I want to be alone, Ale."

"Like hell-"

"I don't think you should be alone right now."

But you didn't listen to your sisters' pleas and turned on your heel before they could pull you back.

"She's pushing us out again."

"She'll come back to you when she's ready," Olga was the voice of reason, calming the two down but immediately worrying them again as she added, "But I don't like leaving her alone any more than you two do."

"She's going to get mad again if she sees one of us, though."

Then, that bravery that had been building up all night finally reached its peak when Misa blurted out, "I'm okay with keeping an eye on her, just to make sure nothing happens, you know?"

"Would you do that?" Alba piped up, eyes hopeful and almost begging.

"Yeah," Misa nodded, dead serious, eyes flicking from your disappearing form to your sisters, not wanting to lose you in the crowd.

"Please, if you could?"

"Of course," She squeezed Alexia's arm on her way out of the booth, eyes already on the neon green exit sign high above the dancing crowd.

Outside, people were saying goodbye and calling it a night or having a smoke around you, but you had drowned them out the second you'd sat down on the cold curb. It reeked of spilt beer, cigarettes and urine, and it ripped off your rose-coloured glasses right away. You tugged at your dress, wanting it to cover more of your legs in the chilly night air, but realising you'd have to wrap your arms around yourself to warm you up.

Little, weak and vulnerable — three words that had started to co-exist in your mind whenever you thought of yourself... but that was how you felt. It was the harsh reality, it was who you were, who you'd always been, and you knew your ex had been right when she'd jabbed those words at you time and time again. If you weren't little or weak or vulnerable, you wouldn't be sitting here right now, chest ready to heave with the sobs wanting to come out after having met a stranger with the same fucking name. It was so pathetic, it made you chuckle bitterly.

It had felt like the universe's way of stopping you from making yet another questionable decision, and perhaps, you were glad it had stopped you. You knew you would have felt disgusted with your actions within twelve hours anyway, despite how good it would feel in the moment. However, that also meant you were left with the impending knowledge that you had to deal with your feelings in another way tonight. But how, you didn't know. You weren't good with your feelings. With letting someone in, again, to let them take half of your burden. You knew you'd never trust someone like that ever again. Any situationship or relationship you would have going forward would only ever reach a superficial level until you'd close the prison cell of your heart when they would get too close. You puffed out a breath before breaking down into a shuddering sob. Your back hunched over, and you put your face in your hands.

Misa watched from near the entrance, leaning against the brick wall and playing with a begonia she'd plucked out of one of the decorative flower planters next to her. It was a painful sight to see the girl who had once brightened up her days looking so miserable, and it was even more painful knowing that there was nothing she could do to help. Well, except for keeping an eye out right now, that was. She realised that she had perhaps deliberately decided to turn a blind eye to your agony before, basking in the small blurts of happiness she could see on your face and using them for her own gain, not looking further and realising how scarce those moments were for you nowadays.

You jumped in your seat when a duo of overly drunk boys started to bellow as they were trying to hail a cab. They cursed loudly when another group got to it before them, and sat down on the curb a few metres away from you. One of the boys's eyes wandered across the street, falling onto your shaken form.

"Hey!" He motioned you to come over, and you immediately tore your eyes away from them, blankly staring out into the street.

"Hey, you-" He whistled, and your chest swelled with anger. You gave him the nastiest look you could muster but bristled when they only seemed to snicker at your teary fury. You knew you looked horrible and pathetic, little and weak and vulnerable, but you didn't need to get reminded of that by some fresh-out-of-high-school boys.

You saw one of the boys stand up and you were ready to either scream bloody murder or tear him a new one, but furrowed your brows when they seemed to rethink their decision to approach. At the same time, you saw a shadow loom over you.

Looking up, you watched as Misa stood there, giving them the deathliest glare you'd ever seen. You knew she was a tough one on the field, knew she could be reserved around people she didn't know, you included, but you hadn't thought she'd had it in her to look so menacingly fierce off the pitch. And for what? To, out of all people, save you like some knight in shining armour?

The boys lost their interest in you when a cab stopped in front of them, but Misa hovered close, a safe distance away from you as she contemplated what to do now. She watched as you pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin against them. A chill breeze wafted through the street, blowing through the stray hairs that weren't stuck to your tear-stained face. Your refusal to acknowledge her presence after having noticed her, should have made her back off as fast as she'd approached the second she'd smelt trouble, but instead, she stood glued to the pavement. She played with her fingers, contemplating what to do and outweighing every scenario and its consequences. Then, after some agonising moments in thought, she decided it was better to stick with you now, showing you weren't alone and admit to the reason behind her presence, knowing you deserved honesty.

"We didn't want you to be out here by yourself."

You looked up, no trace of your beautiful radiating self to be seen, "I said I wanted to be alone," You sniffled and wiped at your puffy nose, "But thank you." You took a shaky breath, "Lord knows I would have ripped their heads off hadn't you come."

Misa wanted to smile at you still bringing lightheartedness to the conversation in an attempt to either comfort yourself or distract Misa from your true state, but she simply couldn't. Not when you were like this. Deciding she had broken the ice and had committed to it now anyway, she mustered up the last bit of courage and sat down beside you, still a reasonable amount of respectful distance keeping you apart. A little too much distance, for that matter.

"I wouldn't have looked at you differently if you had." She spoke gently, hoping you caught the underlying message in her words— just like she wasn't looking at you any differently now. You were still the most gorgeous girl she'd ever seen and you would still be able to send her insides to mush with one giggle or look.

She twirled the tiny begonia in her fingers. You watched her, looking at her fingers and the flower as a new set of silent tears coated your cheeks. Your eyes widened when, out of the blue, Misa's hand pried a lock of hair off your wet cheeks and placed it behind your ear before gently tucking the tiny flower behind it. She looked at you, truly looked at you, as if she was reading your face to sense what you were feeling. Then she smiled, not out of pity, but out of adoration, as if she could see through the tears and caked makeup and trouble and see the carefree girl you'd always been.

The entire gesture was so tender, something you hadn't been exposed to in a long while, that sobs then wracked your body once more. You didn't even care that your sister's friend was seeing this and would likely pass this along to her, too. You let the tears fall, the energy to keep them in no longer present. You hoped that the girl who'd been so reserved and indifferent around you before, wouldn't bat an eye now either.

Immediately, Misa felt horrified, afraid she'd crossed a boundary that had set off the tears. Her panic intensified when she had no clue what to do, so she figured not to think about it too much and go with her instinct. She put an arm around your shaking form and, when you burrowed into her chest, she felt herself float, despite the wet patch of tears forming on her shoulder and keeping her very much in the moment. Then she blinked, realising once more she was putting her crush over your well-being. Her grip around you tightened and the unbeatable sensation of fierce protection set her face in determination. She realised then that she should've had the balls to do this sooner, preferably when she'd overheard that phonecall all those months ago. You had deserved to be comforted then, too, to feel seen and understood, not alone, but Misa had been too much of a coward and had worried about her secret crush coming out that she'd held back.

"It's... it's okay." She whispered into the air, knowing you could hear her nonetheless with you so closely pressed to her, "You don't have to pretend you're fine."

You clutched at her shirt with your fist, pulling it closer to you, hating how Misa still seemed set to keep a distance between you and didn't let you bury yourself into her chest entirely. You'd never realised the woman had apparently been able to read you so well in her quietness around you, that she knew exactly what you were feeling. Still waters run deep, and she'd surprised you by proving that. It drew out the air of mystery she already had around her, but you felt afraid of what else she'd noticed that you thought no one had. That, along with the realisation of the situation you were in, filled you with shame. You pulled back and wiped at your nose. Your eyes widened in horror when you saw the glittered patch of your eyeshadow now on Misa's t-shirt. Furiously, you wiped at the spot.

Misa couldn't help but take you in, with your hair dishevelled, the flower now almost falling out of it, your cheeks flushed and wet, your eyes bloodshot and your nose stuffy as you wiped at it every few seconds. Pained, tortured and exhausted by it all and still, you were the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

She didn't know half of what had went down with you, and with your ex, seeing as your breakup seemed to be the root of your pain. She'd heard enough during the phonecall, though— your quick and panicked muttered apologies, your fear and your weariness. She didn't need to know the rest to still be unable to grapple with why on earth someone could hurt you as much as your ex had. Her eyes turned damp, and it was a surprise when she felt the tears prickle. She wasn't an emotional person, she never cried, except for after a major and critical defeat on the pitch or if she got too angry about things that really mattered. Perhaps this was just such a moment. She became paralysed at the reveal.

Your voice was small, your shoulders hunched and your gaze to your lap as you softly mumbled out an apology. Misa's heart broke then and there, realising you'd been in that position more often than necessary. How often had you resorted to taking the blame to diffuse the situation and survive another day without a fight?

She watched as you slid away from her and tried to keep her tone light, veiling the sting of her heart, "For what? One wash and it's gone."

As if being stung by a bee, you seemed to realise what you were doing. You were letting your walls down to one of Alexia's friends, you were letting someone see you cry, admitting how little, weak and vulnerable you were indeed. You were letting someone take a peak behind the curtain of the confident and put-together woman you usually portrayed to be. You harshly wiped at your face, ruffled your hair and stood up to smooth down your dress.

Flee, flee, flee, flee, flee.

"Tell Ale and Alba that I got a taxi back home."

Misa followed your example and stood up, holding you back by your elbow, gently and with care.

"Let them take you home. Please."

You narrowed your eyes at her, having a hunch that the urgency in her voice didn't just stem from her worry for you, but at the fear of facing your sisters if she let you. It shouldn't have made you feel the way it did, to realise that Misa had only comforted you out of courtesy to your sisters, and not because she wanted to be the one to wrap you in her arms. Feeling a little defensive, you replied a bit too harshly, "I'm not going back in there."

"You don't have to. Let me text them. I'll wait here with you."

You debated it for a while, you truly did, but no. You couldn't step even one foot back into that nightmare of a place. With warm and sweaty bodies brushing against you, the mix of a dozen colognes and eau de perfumes, and the booming sound slapping you across your face. You didn't want this disaster of a night to be drawn out even longer than necessary. You'd learned your lesson in there, and you weren't going to go back in to come to terms with it. Not tonight, anyway.

"No, I'm sorry."

Your heels clicked as you walked the cobblestone street to the nearest taxi. Misa watched, realising she'd fucked up even the simple task of keeping you company. If only she hadn't wrapped you in her arms, maybe you would've waited it out with her. She had a hunch her sudden affection had been the tipping point for your need to run. Her eyes fell to the curb, where the crumpled begonia now lay forgotten. Without another thought, she pulled her wallet from her back pocket and tucked the little flower in between a couple of ten euro bills. Then, she couldn't help but let dread fill her stomach. She'd have to get back in there and tell your sisters what had happened.

Surprisingly, they hadn't taken the news as bad as Misa had expected. She figured it was the fact that Misa had seen you get in the taxi and knowing that no sane person, not even an insane one, your ex, would be waiting on your doorstep at one in the morning. The fact that you'd shared your live location with your sisters and they'd watched the dot move through the city until it arrived at your place, had aided as well.

Plus, as Alexia had added with awareness, "We should've gone after her ourselves. You couldn't know how stubborn she really was."

But Misa'd had a hunch after all the time she'd spent adoring you. It was one of the things she admired. You had a will and mind of your own, not an opinion easily curated by the world around you. You knew what you liked and wanted.

The sisters, including Olga, had decided to call it a night then and there, calling a taxi and driving straight to your apartment, just to make sure. Misa, not really feeling up for any more pretend-partying after all that had happened, had decided to leave as well after trying to stick around for another half hour to not be an ass when Jenni had bought her a new drink.

She hoped that you were safely tucked in your bed right now, ready to let sleep wash away your sorrows, even if it was only for the night.

Much later, she'd find out how wrong she'd really been.

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

© 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆.🖤

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Crow & His Charmer 🐍 | Kaz Brekker Imagine P.2

My masterlists

continuation of this imagine

Characters & Pairings: Kaz Brekker x gang leader!reader (romantic).

content warnings: profanity, light fluff, rivals-to-lovers, smoking, mentions of violence, gang activity, threats, typical SOC themes, canon divergence. | female!reader (she/her)—no use of Y/n | wc: 2.1k

Premise: Following the success of the Ice Court heist, Kaz Brekker and the Snake Charmer return to Ketterdam newfound allies and a little something that teeters the edge of, 'I can't stand you but can't get you off my mind."

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Kaz’s cane clicked along the pavement as he strolled up to the entrance of ‘The Snake Pit,’ located on the opposite side deep into the Barrel, making heads at the sight of the owner of The Crow Club nodding his head to the bouncer who returned the gesture as she opened the curtain for him to pass through. 

“What’s Kaz Brekker doing on this side of the Barrel?” 

“I thought the Serpents and the Dregs were lifelong rivals…”

“Didn’t you hear, lass? Brekker managed to charm the Charmer. Or the Charmer charmed him depending how you see it.” 

Lips curling up at the whispers behind him, Kaz went through the curtain and down the spiral staircase leading into the main floor of the building, smirking at the newly refurbished snake enclosure he paid for following the destruction of the previous one. Destruction he caused. 

“I want fucking crystal, Kaz Brekker.” She told him on the ship back to Ketterdam over a bottle of Fjerdan Brännvin. “No glass, no acrylic, none of that bullshit cheap plastic to save you Kruge. You are going to find the finest crystal on the damn island and you’re going to have my babies’ enclosure rebuilt to a fucking T. And it better be filled with everything they need otherwise we’re going to have a fucking problem. Am I clear?” 

For the amount of money they just earned, Kaz would’ve rebuilt the whole Snake Pit had he destroyed it. Toasting her glass with his, Kaz saluted, “Crystal, Charmer.”

Sure, it was a little uncalled for. Scaring the patrons half to death with a dozen loose snakes. Risking the safety of the animals. But it was a means to an end. How else was he supposed to draw out the Snake Charmer into the light and get her to team up with him and his Crows on their journey to the Ice Court. They needed more muscle, and she had that. 

And thank the Saints, it all worked out in the end. They broke into the Ice Court, rescued Yul-Bayur, dealt with Van Eck, and got their fucking 30 million Kruge. Of course, nothing about the heist was easy. It was the most grueling, exhausting, and downright worse job of their life that it’s a miracle any of them survived. 

And besides millions of Kruge--once split--Kaz and the Charmer walked away with something more…intimate. Strong enough to put an end to their bitter rivalry. Succeeding a mutual respect that leaned toward admiration. 

It was why none of the Serpents paid any attention to Kaz as he migrated through the club towards the Charmer’s office. Why her main bodyguards posted outside her door simply nodded and allowed Kaz to walk in unannounced.  

He found the Charmer seated at her desk, cigarette in one hand and telephone receiver in the other while leaning to speak into the transmitter perched on the surface of the desk. Kaz eyed the telephone with curiosity, it being one of the newest investments to her office as they were slowly becoming popular among establishments. Kaz had yet to purchase one, more keen on sending physical notes to people using a messenger. 

“I’ve told you this time and time again, Bram,” She snapped, agitated by the person on the other end of the line. “You had every opportunity to pay back the loan in increments prior to the final night of Nachtspel, otherwise you were expected to pay in full by midnight tonight. And it is,” she opens her pocket watch, “precisely half past. I’m very impatient when it comes to my money, Bram. So what’s it going to be?” 

Kaz smirked at the Charmer, who narrowed her brows at him as he crossed the space to approach her desk. Then she tilted her head, listening to the man on the other end list off excuses to why he was unable to pay the loan. The loan she gave him months prior, even giving him grace by offering the chance to pay it off monthly instead of waiting till the last minute where she’d want the entire payment in full. 

Stealing a cigarette from her open tin, Kaz leaned forward when she flicked open her lighter and held it to him. Reeling back once it’s lit to steal a glass from her bar cart off to the side and pour himself a glass of Rum before settling in one of her oak wood chairs. 

A heavy chuckle escaped her, the Charmer closing her eyes to rub her temple while careful not to let any ash on her clothes. “Oh, Bram, you really know how to piss me off, huh?” Kaz could faintly make out the high-pitched voice from the receiver trying to beg his way out. But she wasn’t having it. “No, no, no, don’t act like I don’t know what you’ve been up to. Not only did I hear from one of my guys that the restaurant--that I gave you the loan for--was gaining attraction during my time away, that you were earning enough to make payments every full moon, but you have been seen playing tables at The Silver Six four days out of the week!” 

Kaz whistled under his breath while blowing out smoke, chuckling as he tipped back the Rum. He didn’t feel bad for the guy. Not one bit. After all, she gave him money to start up his restaurant, then gambled away its earnings. If anything, he felt sorry for what the guy was about to lose, but maybe he should’ve thought twice than screwing with the Charmer. 

“And not to mention the mere fact your pretty wife has been flaunting diamonds and rubies--covered in silk from Shu Han and fucking fur from Fjerda--you really thought I wouldn’t find out?” An empty glass was passed to Kaz, and he refilled it. Watching her gulp half of it before spitting out, “yeah, well you had your opportunity, Bram, and I don’t give second chances. You’ve got till sunrise to gather 150 thousand Kruge--.” Her brows pinched as she was cut off, face consorting to absolute rage, “It would’ve been 100 thousand had you paid me on time!! You had ten months--ten months and you let greed get in the way! You brought this upon yourself, Bram, now it’s time to deal with the consequences. Pawn off your wife's precious gems, steal from your neighbors--I don’t fucking care! When my guy comes to your door at sunrise you better have 150 thousand Kruge or you can kiss your restaurant and all that you have goodbye!” 

The receiver met the phone handle with a slam, the charmer bellowing out a “Ugh!!” while pounding a frustrated fist on the desk and snatching her glass to down the remaining alcohol. 

“I take it that didn’t go well,” Kaz mused, lifting the filter to his lips to take a drag, watching her do the same with hers. 

“Don’t anger me more than I already am, Brekker.” 

That made him chuckle, “Will he have the money? Or should I go ahead and add restaurant co-owner to my list of investments.” 

“What makes you think you get any say in what happens to my restaurant?” It wasn’t bold of her to assume the establishment would be hers. There was no way in hell Bram would accumulate 150 thousand Kruge by sunrise. 

“Darling, I thought we had an agreement,” he sets down his glass, eyes full of mischief, “The Crow Club remains mine; the Snake Pit stays yours, and then anything added on is a…mutual collaboration.” 

“Hmmmm,” her pointer finger circled around the rim of the glass, “Well, we’ll see about that, Brekker. He won't have the money--that’s for sure. And if he by Saints above does, then the matters of how is not my concern, so long as he meets the expected amount.” 

“And what if he decides to burn down the establishment?” It wasn’t uncommon for people who take loans to attempt to destroy the business if they cannot pay it back. That way whoever gave them the loan cannot own the property as retaliation. 

“I’ve got men posted there,” she smirks, tapping away the ash on the tray between them. “He won’t torch that place once he sees them. And even if he were to manage, it's not like he can claim the insurance for it. My lawyers are drafting a lawsuit as we speak.” The woman leans back in her chair, “I’ll get my money one way or another.”

Kaz leaned back in his own chair with a hum, perching his cane on the side of the desk. “We’ll settle the details of the restaurant’s ownership at another time--.”

“Kaz, for Saint’s sake--.”

“I came by to make sure we’re still on for tomorrow evening.”

The woman’s expression turned incredulous, checking her pocket watch once more to which she then raised a brow, “You came all this way--at nearly one in the morning--to ask if I’m still having dinner with you tomorrow?” 

Kaz would not grant her the satisfaction of him blushing, remaining stoic to the point his jaw nearly cramped, giving only a shrug, “It wasn’t that far.”

This time she spluttered a sound, “Kaz, you live in the East Stave. This is the fucking West Stave.” 

Again, he shrugged, “I needed the walk.” 

“Oh my God,” she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Why didn’t you just call?”

“I don’t have a telephone, you know that.”

“So send a messenger!” she couldn’t contain her grin any further. “You didn’t have to walk all the way over here.”

“Well I did.”

“Saint’s above,” the smile never left as she snatched the bottle of Rum to refill her glass. “Might as well stay, you know.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he voices, unsure about the offer. He’d visited the Snake Pit several times since their return to the island, but usually it was with the Crows or during the day for a few hours when the place was closed and the two gang leaders could talk in peace without the annoyance of patrons gapping at them. Since he revealed the Charmer’s identity, the Snake Pit had garnered more attraction than ever--everyone wanting to get a glimpse at the woman who managed to stay under the radar for years while pissing off Kaz and Pekka Rollings. 

Oh how the tables turned. Now the Crow and the Charmer were considered Ketterdam’s most powerful duo. Kaz controlling the East Stave, and the Charmer controlling the West. 

“We’ve got plenty of room and I’m sure you want to be the first to find out whether or not the restaurant is ours.”

Kaz straightened in his seat, a knowing look plastered on his face, “Ours?” 

She rolled her eyes, putting back the bottle of rum once she tipped off his glass, “Don’t fucking look at me like that.” She points a finger at him, face serious, “The place is on my turf, Brekker. I get the higher cut.”

“Oh, Charmer, you wound me.” 

“You’ll live,” she playfully mocks.

“How much are we talking exactly?”

“Seventy-thirty.” 

Kaz shakes his head, “No, thirty-five.” 

“You want thirty-five?” She tilts her head in challenge, “Then you can cover more of the property tax. How about that?” 

Saint’s, she was just like him. So much so it had Kaz grinning, and he was thankful it was only them two in the office. No witnesses to see the man they called Dirtyhands delighted by the woman in front of him. 

“What if instead of the property tax, I cover the import?” He suggests, leaning into her space as she extinguishes the remaining filter of her cigarette, smirking when she visibly reacts to the proposition. “After all, I own Fifth Harbor.” 

“Thirty-five and the import tax?” she reiterated, folding her hands on the surface of the desk, eyeing Kaz like the businesswoman she was about to crack a deal. 

Pleased to have got her where he wanted, Kaz lifts up his glass of rum, smirk widening. “Thirty-five for my cut, and I will pay the import taxes and deal with whatever tariffs that might come our way.” 

She appeared to be deep in thought, as though pondering over her options. But by now Kaz could read the Charmer like a book. They were similar in nature. Thought alike, conducted business alike. Knew when the other was bluffing or being disingenuous. 

Slowly but surely, the Charmer raised her glass, clicking against his while never straying her gaze, “Very well, Mr. Brekker.” They both shot down the Rum at the same time. Sealing the deal. 

Who would’ve thought a crow could charm the snake. Or maybe it was the snake who charmed the crow. Whichever it was, one thing was clear.

No one in the Barrel could ever go against the crow and his charmer. 

[merrybloomwrites]

Ready to Run

Summary: Harry reaches out to you and the boys to support him for his first ever Ultramarathon.

Word Count: 1.6K

AN: Obvi inspired by Harry running the Tokyo Marathon yesterday. It's also inspired by one of my favorite youtube channels. Last year, Nate from the channel Kara & Nate did the Leadville 100. This story is based on that. Since my story Build You a Boat is also based on their channel, I put this in the same universe at that. Hope you enjoy!

Quick heads up that this is all platonic, there's no romantic relationship in this story!

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“You’re doing a what?”

“An ultramarathon,” Harry answers from the other end of the phone call. He’d called you nearly twenty minutes prior, saying he watched to catch up, that he missed his friend. But it’s clear that this is what he was most excited to talk about. 

“And what exactly is an ultramarathon?”

“100 miles in 30 hours,” he states, like that’s a totally normal amount of miles to run. 

“You really caught the running bug, huh?” He’d completed his first marathon just a month prior, and you were proud to see it. It’s been a dream of his ever since the One Direction days, so you’re glad he finally took time to accomplish this goal. 

“Yea. Remember that YouTube couple that helped us with canoeing the boundary waters? Well the husband did this race last year, it’s where I learned about it.”

“I’ll have to check out the video,” you say. You’d been on your own tour last summer, and were pretty busy so it’s no surprise you missed some things. 

“You should, it’s awesome!”

“Where is the race?” You ask. 

“Leadville. Colorado,” he replies. 

“Wait, so it’s 100 miles, at altitude?”

“Yup!”

“Harry, I’ve seen you need oxygen to perform a one hour concert at altitude,” you say worriedly. 

“Yea but that’s because I always fly in and perform like, the next day. I’m planning to get there at least a month prior to train and get acclimated to the elevation,” he explains. 

“So you’ve really thought this out, huh? Well, it sounds amazing, and I’ll support you the whole way.”

“That’s the other thing,” he says, somewhat timid. “Every runner needs a support team. I was wondering if you’d be on mine? Possibly lead it? The boys are on board too.”

“Wait, you’re actually getting the band back together?” You ask jokingly. 

“I am. Figured anyone at this race will be actually focused on the race, not on celebrities. Louis, Liam, and Zayn have agreed to be pacers. Niall says he can’t run with his bad knees, but he’ll be part of the crew.”

“Alright. I’m in. Just tell me what you need and I’ll be there.”

“Thank you so much! I’ll send an email with all the information I have so far and then we’ll coordinate closer to the race.”

“Looking forward to it!” 

The two of you talk for a few more minutes before saying goodbye. As promised, you receive an email from Harry later that day. You read through everything, then watch a few videos of people’s journeys running this ultramarathon. It’s highly impressive, and while it’s not something you could see yourself doing, you know that with Harry’s determination and healthy lifestyle, he can absolutely pull this off. 

Harry puts you, Liam, Zayn, Louis, and Niall in a group chat to start planning. It’s nice being in an active chat with them again, and it leaves you feeling nostalgic for the old days. 

As the support crew leader, you get to Colorado almost 2 weeks prior to the marathon to start really planning. You go with Harry when he trains so you can learn the route and where you’ll be parking the van throughout the run. 

The rest of the boys arrive a few days beforehand, and it’s so good to be reunited at last. You all catch up, talking about how the past few years have been. But the main focus is clearly preparing for Harry’s run. 

And then the day arrives. Bright and early, 3:00 in the morning to be exact, you load into the van and drive to the starting point to drop Harry off. It’s dark, and chilly, but all of you are excited and hyping Harry up. 

At 4 in the morning, the starting gun goes off, and Harry begins the run. The five of you get back in the van to drive to the first meeting point, and then, you wait. 

Harry has created a spreadsheet of all his plans, including what time he’ll be at each aid station. After a few hours, the first runners appear. You can track Harry, and when you see him getting close, you prepare the snacks and hydration that he had requested for this mini break. It takes a bit more time, and finally, you see Harry. You all start cheering him on as he approaches your group. 

He’s officially run the length of a full marathon. You can tell he’s focused, but he sits for a moment to refuel. As he snacks, you and Niall make sure to rub a layer of sunscreen on him. After a few minutes, he gets back up and continues on his way.

As he runs the next section, you drive to the next aid station to prepare. When he reaches you, he’s run 38 miles over eight hours, and it’s clear he’s starting to feel it. He eats his lunch, and Louis and Zayn help him cool down and rub his legs to help keep them from getting too sore. 

By the time he leaves again, his mood has raised, and he runs off smiling. 

Once again, the five of you simply have to wait. It should take him roughly eight hours to get to the top of Hope Pass and then come back down. You all attempt to get some rest so that you can support him later. It’s hard, since you’re all so amped up, but you each manage to get a little nap in. 

Louis starts warming up, since he’s the first pacer to run alongside Harry. When Harry gets back to the aid station, he’s surprisingly cheerful, even though you can tell he’s really feeling it. He grabs some more snacks, and takes a few minutes to lean on you as you tell him how proud you are and how impressive he is for doing this. 

He meditates for a moment and then he and Louis begin to run. It’s strange to see Louis set out to run 10 miles, as he’s more of a sprinter than a long distance runner, but he’ll do anything he can to support Harry. 

You and the others drive to the next aid station to wait for them. They end up taking the last mile or so a bit slowly, since Harry is ahead of his schedule and they want to bring his heart rate down for a little while. 

Liam goes with him next, and after they head out, Louis updates the rest of you.

“His knees are bugging him, but he gets a lot of speed on the downhills. He’s a damn beast, I’ll say that. I couldn’t do this.”

They meet up at the next stop, Zayn switching out for Liam to run the next few miles. As you track them, you see that the pace is slowing down but still going fast enough to finish in time. 

Mayqueen is the final aid station, and Liam goes to run with Harry again, him being in the best shape out of your whole support group.

Twelve miles left, and you see the excitement come back in Harry’s eyes, and the determination written all over his face. 

You drive to the finish, anxious to cheer him over the line. He’s going slow and steady, and Liam calls to update when they’re four miles away, letting you know what time they estimate to be there and that Harry wants all of you to run the last bit with him. 

You spend that last hour watching and cheering for everyone who crosses the line. Finally, you see Harry and Liam, and you, Niall, Zayn, and Louis run out to meet them. With thirty minutes left before the cutoff, Harry officially finishes the Leadville 100.

The five of you surround him in a group hug, and support him once more as he becomes overwhelmed with emotion.

“That was the hardest thing I think I’ve ever done,” he says. “But at the same time, one of the most exhilarating and worthwhile things.”

He’s given a medal and the finisher belt buckle, and takes pictures with countless other runners. But soon you see the exhaustion in his eyes and you lead him to the van. He manages to stay away until you get back to the house, and Louis and Niall help him get a quick shower so he can be clean when he crashes in bed.

He sleeps pretty much until the next day, waking only to use the bathroom and have a little food.

When he’s recovered enough to leave his room, the six of you sit down for lunch together. He thanks you all again for being by his side once more for this endeavor, and you all tell him how proud you are of this accomplishment. 

Later that day, he posts a picture that the six of you took together at the finish line. After years of social media silence, the fandom loses their mind over Harry posting. They go even crazier seeing all of you together for the first time since the hiatus began. 

You know that the fans want a reunion tour, but for you guys, this is the reunion. The chance to be together, to be a friend group again, without the pressure. This feels right to you all.

And you have Harry and his crazy ideas to thank for bringing you together once more.

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AN: Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a great week!

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating (not on you). egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

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Alphabet Soup - F

F is for how Wally shamelessly flirts with you. A fun way to make a boring Friday afternoon more interesting. He has to be here, some Booster Club bullshit to raise money for new cheer uniforms since Janet and her drones strongarmed the principal into bringing the squad into 2024. As the diligent, doting boyfriend, Wally finagled his teammates into helping. A car wash, guys and girls in bathing suits, flexing and feeding into fantasies that shouldn't be given a platform. You know, the kind of shit that shouldn't fly but does because Janet has Claire, and Claire always gets her way if she flashes enough of her family's money around.

And chaste little cherub that you are, you and your friends are there to help, manning the cash box and filling buckets of soapy water when Janet snaps her fingers. Whatever, it gives Wally something to look at between scrubbing down cougars' mom-vans and pretending to give a shit when Janet sprays herself with the hose. A drowned rat with a fake tan, fake teeth, fake tits, bought and paid for by Corporate Mogul Daddy.

God, Wally wants to go back in time and punch himself for agreeing to her dumb social-climb agenda. He was willing at the time. Why not? He has an ego, likes attention, and being king of Split River High comes with fantastic perks.

One, for example, being that he can get some dipshit bench-rider to take over for him for a few minutes while he follows you into the building.

You stand at the vending machine, perusing the options, hands in the back pockets of jean shorts Wally would kill a man to see you bend over in. A Cheshire smile and devious eyes, he stalks up to you and leans against the vending machine, dripping sweat and soapy water from the last car.

"Let me guess," He starts, smooth, grinning at you like you're something he wants to catch with his teeth, "your heart says Doritos, but your brain is telling you to get a granola bar."

You give him a once-over, slow, appraising, from feet to face, "My heart never says Doritos. But nice try." Your smile is easy and innocent, "You wanna try again?"

Wally smirks, leans in real close, fingers brushing your thigh along the hem of your shorts. Heat spears through him when your cheeks pink, perfect lips parting on a shivery gasp. Such a fucking sweet little thing. "What happens if I guess right?" He murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing your temple as he whispers in your ear.

Recovering admirably, you offer, "Maybe I'll be nice enough to share with you."

"And if I don't like your choice?" He smooths his hand around your thigh, settles below the curve of your ass, thumb stroking under the hem of your shorts. "What then, baby?" He feels himself twitch in his swim trunks, God, you smell good. Like coconut-vanilla and that kid shampoo he saw in the bathroom you share with Janet.

You pan your head in tiny fractions, slow-motion sensual, lips so close to his that he's breathing your air. "I guess you'll have to settle for good sportsmanship," a honeyed smirk, twinkling eyes on Wally's lips for a moment before they meet his gaze.

Wally groans, grin widening, grabbing a fistful of your ass and dragging you flush against him to make you feel the effect you have on him. "That's just mean, baby," and he murmurs, dark and heated, grinding his hips forward, "you saying you'd leave me like this?"

Without missing a beat, you rest your hands on his bare chest, rising on your toes to hover your lips over his, "Didn't your mother ever teach you that you're responsible for the messes you make?"

"Nah," Wally's grin sharpens, flicking his tongue against your bottom lip, "My mama taught me to ask for help when I need it." He grabs your ass with both hands, maneuvers to pin you against the side of the vending machine so he can lift you and grind his hard cock between your thighs. "And I really," thrust "really" thrust "need it."

Wally relieves the bench-rider twenty minutes later, a skip in his step and a ring of cherry lip gloss around the base of his cock. It isn't until he winks at you over his sunglasses that you remember why you went to the vending machine in the first place.

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MASTERLIST

also available on AO3!

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[dilfartist]

Halloween 🎃 ask,

Yan ghost Nanami 👻 rip, in a mansion with a urban explorer darling?

Three Step Ritual

Word count; 1581

TW; Yandere theme, possessiveness (kinda?), not very Yandere, Nanami’s death mentioned.

Notes;{I wasn’t the best with the fic but I hope it’s to your liking!}

“Mic? Check. Cameras? Check. Walkie talkies? Check.”

You sit beside Joseph, the crew's cameraman, as he checks the equipment they’ve brought for the journey. Three of you sat in the back of the old van, awaiting the stop at the location you were supposed to visit. Toshi, who sits directly across from you, finally speaks up, taking the lit cigarette from his chapped lips.

“So, what’s the story?” His voice comes out gruff.

Joseph looks up from his camera, “First of all, throw that cigarette out. Second of all, we’re going to a mansion in Shibuya. Apparently, this area has a ghost that answers clearly, or that’s what the YouTube videos fake. You have to do some damn Bloody Mary ritual.”

Toshi rolls his head back lazily to scratch the underside of his chin. “You look into a mirror and say his name?” Toshi inquires.

“No. From the website I read, the instructions say we need candles, an offering, and a spirit box. Depending on what the ghost thinks about the person, he’ll communicate through the spirit box or appear in front of them.”

You already knew of the ritual. Last night, you stayed up late and resurched an article, bought all of the items suggested, and even researched the person a little. The man’s name was Nanami. Nanami died at the young age of twenty-seven as an ordinary businessman. The bag swayed in your hand as the van drove, containing all the items you knew he’d like.

Joseph turned to you. “Alright. So, you see this camera?” he pointed at a GoPro, “you’ll put this on and then record once you go into the building.” Joseph helped get you situated, placing and adjusting the Gopro on your head.

“Got it?”Joseph asks.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips, “yup.”

If it weren’t for the money you’d receive after the assignment, you’d be in bed, probably catching up on new seasons of shows. However, rent was coming up, and it seemed everything needed money these days.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to venture for ghosts in hopes of scoring YouTube views, so when you saw an ad for an open role as an additional member of a ghost-hunting team that would put a little money in your pockets, you accepted the offer. Crazy as it was. You only accepted the job since the ghost had a tame reputation.

The van came to a stop after a good twenty-minute drive. Looking out the van window, the mansion wasn’t stereotypical; the layout was clean, evidently having recent touch-ups: No rotten trees, smashed windows, or decaying walls. Everyone emptied the van, stepped into the mansion yard, and then migrated inside.

You went into the dining room. The room which the spirit was said to frequent. Strangely enough, the room didn’t look half bad, even though it had supposedly been abandoned for a couple of years. The table was already set but it didn’t appear untouched. No dust or aging showed on any of the items, not even the tablecloth.

Everyone gathered inside the room and began to set up. Four cameras encircled you, their red dots illuminating the dark room.

“If you need anything call out to us,” Joseph informed you, wiggling a walkie-talkie to illustrate what you’d need to use to communicate. “Okay...” you nod.

One by one, the team members departed until you were left by your lonesome. The room was dark- even with the red glow from the cameras, too dark for your comfort. You gripped the skinny candle, your palms growing clammy by the second. You swallowed, shakily placing the candle on the table. Setting the spirit box by your side, you turn on your GoPro and then begin the ritual.

Step one: light the candle.

Using a spare match from your pants pocket, you lit the candle, positioning it close to you but not enough to be beside you.

Step two: give offers.

You take the loaf of bread out and the freshly brewed coffee you made before coming here. Placing the items beside the candle, you close your eyes.

Step three: call out to spirit.

Your lips quiver, but eventually, you call out to the spirit. “...Nanami,” you start, trying to breathe through the anxiety, “Are you here?”

Step four: keep your eyes closed until you hear something.

You shut your eyes tightly, so tight it slightly stung. And yet no one answered your call. The spirit box was on, wasn’t it? You checked it before you attempted the ritual. You don't know what’s more frightening; the silence or someone speaking. The thought of opening your eyes tempted you, but the guide advised you to keep your eyes closed for at least five minutes.

“Thank you for bringing black coffee.”

Instantly, you opened your eyes. The scenery wasn’t the same as a minute ago. Before your eyes fluttered shut, the dining room was cloaked in the dark blue moonlight, nothing but the candle and cameras brightening the room. Now the room was shrouded in the warmth of the chandler above the dining table.

Cider wood. It suddenly smelled like cider wood.

“..N..Nanami?” you call out again.

“I am him.”

Your head nearly spun towards the entrance. A man- no, Nanami leaned against the entryway of the dining room. Dressed in a formal tan business suit, a pair of sunglasses with no arms, and a neat hairstyle, he sipped the coffee you had brought. Nanami acted as if this was a normal occurrence for him. “Holy shit..” you mumble out.

Nanami approaches the table, picking up the loaf of bread. “This is fresh as well?” one glance in your direction made you speak up, “..yes. I got it before I came here..”

Nanami hums, “Thank you. Most people offer stale bread. Not very polite since they’re taking up my time, but I’ll entertain them with a conversation on those voice boxes. You, on the other hand, showed care in your work.”

Using his bare hands, Nanami divides the bread in two and places the other chunk of bread on a plate. “So what is it you’ve come to ask me? Or have you no questions at all?”

As a matter of fact, you didn’t have any questions. Anyone in your shoes would have the same issue. No one would have expected Nanami to appear in front of them or for him to speak back to them. The whole story sounded like a creepypasta that a tween created.

“I’m not sure...” You didn’t want to admit that you didn’t believe he was real. Then something came to mind. “Would you mind me asking the reason you are here if you died at the Shibuya subway station?”

Suprise overcomes his features, though it only displays for a moment. “When a person dies and hasn’t moved on, they have a choice to haunt the place they died at or a place that holds some significance to them.”

“How does this place hold significance to you? Did you live here?”

Nanami shakes his head, “No, but I did wish to. I could have had the money In no time, but I did have other things in mind before purchasing it.”

“What was it?” you question.

“A family.” Nanami expressed his lament through the way his voice lowered a pitch, eyes staring down at the wooden table. “I never had the time to get married. Work overtook my time; it wouldn’t have been fair to them.”

Nanami knew how to pull at your heartstrings, that’s for sure. “I died during work as well,” Nanami reminisced. “Although I didn’t succeed in having a family, I’m happy my life had a positive Impact.”

Nanami and you entertained a conversation, both discovering more about each other.

From what you gathered, you could infer Nanami was a good person. He was well-spoken: A man who was respectful, kind, and easy to talk to. It almost felt like a dream.

“(Name),” A voice called out through static. You turn away from Nanami. You answer, “Yes?” The static erupts from the small walkie-talkie, “Come back.” Offering an apologetic smile to Nanami, you replied, “Okay, coming out.”

You stand, “I have to go now,” you somberly tell him. “You can keep the bread and coffee, of course.” Blowing out the candle, you went to leave. The door swings shut, causing you to step back in fright. Shit.

Even if you considered Nanami a good person, you shouldn’t have turned your back on a ghost.

“I see.”

You couldn’t move. You felt grounded in place, quasi to the roots stabling a tree. Nanami had been innocuous so far; still, you would be careful by doing as he asked

“Forgive me; that must have been too forceful.” Nanami took note of the change in your demeanor. “I only meant to ask if you’d visit again.”

Little by little, you felt your muscles release the built-up tension. “Visit?” you repeat, skeptical if you should reward Nanami with your trust.

“I enjoyed our conversation and would like to have another sometime. Only if you’d like, of course.”

Although Nanami was a spirit, able to end your life had he pleased, you enjoyed the conversation as well. You turned around to face him. “I could come by on Thursday.”

Nanami hummed, “I look forward to it.”

Not long after, you headed back to the van. Toshi opened the van door to allow you in. Toshi gazes at you with amusement oozing from his smug smile. “Real good act, kid,” you take your seat, “What are you talking about?” you ask.

Joseph huffs in response, looking down at his camera, which you presumed meant he was viewing the footage back. “I really thought we’d get good footage...” he murmured angrily to himself.

Toshi took a seat beside you. “We may not have gotten genuine footage, but you were slightly convincing. As long as some kids click on the video, we’ll make a buck or two off it.”

“I was talking to him that whole time- didn’t it come through the spirit box,” you contend.

“No one was talking to you on the spirit box. You just started murmuring things with your eyes closed.”