#would it fix him??? no. but it would be very hot and it might calm him down a little lmao.

[birchbow]

what's better than this, coupla dudes being bros, just bros bein dudes just dudes getting railed. Just bros with big ol tiddies. just dudes getting their backs absolutely blown out. just bros being dudes!!!

[serawritesthings]

WHERE THE DEERS REST, first part

Pairing | LowHonor!Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Summary | How can we do good when all we were raised to do is bad? A cruel fate, indeed. Yet when your past, and a certain outlaw, finds a way to set its claws in you once more, perhaps you'll soon find there is a way to change fate's design. Tags | sexual content 18+ minors dni, smut, heavy description of violence and wounds, angsty Word Count | 22k A/N | Oh god, I'm so nervous about posting this. First of all, thank you SO much for the love you showed to Our Dear, Green Little Friend. It has completely warmed my heart that so many of you like it, and even though it's taken me very long to post my next fic, it was one of the key motivations for me to continue writing on it. So thank you very, very much! <3 Also, like I said earlier, I'm very nervous about posting this fic since it's very long and perhaps quite different than what I've written before, but I hope to god you like it! I haven't been in the best mindset when writing it since I've dealt with some stress both privately and at work. I will let you know that I will soon go through it once more and edit it slightly, but I felt like I had to get it out to you guys since I feel bad that I haven't posted in a while, and I'm honestly quite sick of rereading the story time and time again. Please let me know if there are any serious misspellings, and I'll fix it directly! Anyway, sorry for the long text, and I hope you like it!<3

For some, it might’ve seemed cowardly, yet you couldn’t bear to unravel some memories, for they hurt too deeply–wounded too far. However, the thought of letting them fade was somehow worse, and while you feared the pain they would surely bring when confronted, you hadn’t been forced to face them until now. So, it turned out to be quite the coincidence they would come to haunt you now that time seemed to be at a standstill; the world around you had never been this calm before.  

“Miss, would you mind taking these back?” A hearty voice broke your thoughts, speaking in a mumbling fashion as the loud sound of books hit the wooden table. Wading through the dust that floated around you that stirred from Eustace’s sudden motion, you found his ageing eyes gazing at you amusedly, chuckling at the sour expression that formed on your otherwise soft features. 

“I don’t mind,” you said, giving him a small smile that turned vicious once the heavy pile of books was cradled in your arms. “If you don’t mind taking a round with the whisk.” You didn’t get the chance to see the irked look on his face, disappearing quickly into the towering bookshelves. 

“Don’t forget to dust the higher places as well!” Chuckling warmly at the man’s miffed mumbling, you walked on carefully, making sure not to stumble on the ratty carpet as his grumbling grew distant.

The bickering that seemed constant when you conversed with the older man was by all means with no ill intent, more so done in jest. And, while your friendship might seem rather unusual, there was no doubt that his presence brought you an undeniable comfort in a world that had done you more wrong than right. Sure, it might sound dreary, but you recently concluded that you grew more and more content with the thought of staying here.

You loved how a sense of calm always seemed to rest over the building, the smell of old books filling your senses, although an ever-so-poignant whiff of hot steel and grease found its way in from the open window as the train chugged to a stop and steam billowed through the surrounding air. Sighing, you took the liberty of closing the window, the sharp whistle making you cringe as it brought you out of your solitude.

Eustace had taken you under his wing when the bearings of your life had become too heavy, giving you a roof over your head and warm food in your stomach. It made you wonder how sparse kind souls like his were in this world, never having met one quite like him. While your compromised situation originally had been the reason for his kindness, he had found your fascination and vast knowledge of books intriguing and, therefore, refused to take no for an answer when he asked you to start helping him around his bookstore. Yet, despite how much you appreciated it, you couldn’t flee from the unease that still hooked its claws in you when you pondered the reason you had ended up here in the first place, the tendrils of it creeping into the sanctuary of the bookshop like ivy upon ancient stone. Despite your dislike of it, you bore the weight of it every second, and although well hidden, you had become tethered to the memories that followed your past. 

Like shattered glass, memories pierced your heart with sharp edges at every twist and turn. Distant echoes of laughter that had long since faded into silence, the faces blurred by time yet etched into your very being passing before you as your pace slowed down, the wooden panels creaking something so terribly under your weight.

With a heavy sigh, you moved among the hundreds of books, fingers deftly tracing the spines as you sought their rightful place amongst their brethren. Arranging them on the shelves, you tried to distract yourself from your thoughts by humming quietly in the otherwise quiet room. The shop had been empty for quite some time now; the townsfolk’s interest in the subtle words on the pages dimmed in their struggle to survive their daily life—only pretentious men stepped inside at times who, by crook or hook, imagined they would leave a mark on this world with their clever words and supposed hierarchy in society. It lessened, though, as they went for bigger–more extraordinary–things than this muck of a town, wherever that might be.

Amidst the quiet rustle of pages and the soft creak of wood–and your less than favourable words, the air suddenly turned congeal, thick with a sudden tension that tickled your senses with its uncertainty. A chill coursed down your spine as you felt an ominous presence looming behind you, casting you in its shadow as the weight of something cold and unyielding pressed against the tender flesh of your temple. With a tremble, you froze, the books once held tightly against your chest cascading to the ground in a tumble.

Your heart was hammering against your chest, beating against your ribs like a caged bird as its frantic beat drowned out the world around you. You grew too fearful to move, the clicking sound of a gun daring you to resist. 

“Easy there, miss,” a gravelly voice spoke, vibrating dangerously in your ear as warm breaths turned cold on the bare skin of your neck. “No sudden moves, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

You remembered that voice, feeling it dance just beyond the reaches of your consciousness, its familiarity almost touchable. How could you not voice it when the name lingered on your tongue, teasing and beckoning you? There had to be a mistake; there was no other conclusion to be made, for if it happened to be someone you had known, they might be less agreeable than the common bypasser.

“What do you want?” you managed to whisper, voice barely above a breath.

“Money, jewels. Whatever you got,” the voice replied, words heavy with a certain kind of roughness only a man holding a gun to a woman’s head could possess. “Just keep quiet and do as you’re told, and we’ll be on our way.”

Your mind raced in a jumbled mess of fear and uncertainty at the sudden intrusion you should have known was a high possibility in such a city as Blackwater. Yet, the thought only made your heart heavier against your chest, knowing all too well what kind of men hid in the darker corners of the alleyways. For one to threaten a woman in broad daylight, though, seemed very daring yet not an ounce less terrifying.

Summoning every bit of courage you possessed, you tilted your head to glimpse at the man pushing his head against the side of your face, opposite where the cold metal touched your temple dauntingly. As you did, you met the eyes of the man who held your fate in his hands–and in that fleeting moment, as your gazes met, you saw something flicker behind the hardened exterior of the outlaw.

Recognition dawned like a bolt of lightning. What stared back at you was not the face of a stranger but the familiar features of a man you had once known—a man whose presence had once held the promise of escape amidst the terrible deeds that clouded your life. Arthur Morgan, that’s who was standing behind you. His name echoed in your mind like from a long-forgotten dream, memories hidden so well you could barely remember them. 

Two broken souls, trying to find what others seemed to have handed to them on a silver platter: warmth and solace, the comforting thought of finding a home–somewhere to belong. Yet, the relationship wasn’t made to be perfect, and in your despair, nothing good could’ve come from it. As many things go, it became too fragile. It couldn’t—didn’t—last, and what you once saw as a light beyond the heavy curtains of darkness was quickly swallowed up.

Instead of the kind ones you remember, dark, dangerous eyes stared into yours, the swirls of blue coated in a rich black that ran like coal through his acidic gaze. So harsh and cold were they, burning through yours as thick brows fell like a shield over the dark pools, hiding behind his squint and hostile snarl. Almost unrecognizable, he was seemingly both older and larger as the lines on his face were more defined and wrinkles on his nose nearly etched onto his face. 

As your fearful eyes stared into his stoic yet calculating ones, you felt your body shiver in fright, every bell of alarm that once sounded so clearly in your mind turning quiet, now only the clock ticking discernible as blood rushed in your ears like a flood. The gun cocked dangerously, dread creeping through you at the wordless threat when you stayed quiet for longer than he had the patience for.

 “You deaf?” His growling voice burned deep in his throat. A warm breath brushed against your cheek as he kept your gaze wholly, completely disregarding the unmistakable fear in your expression. 

“I-”

You stumbled over your words, voice thick before a gasp left you. Between the disbelief of seeing Arthur’s face once again, although more weathered than you remember, and the thought of having a gun pressed to your temple, there was not a single word you could utter that would seem sensible.

Suddenly, you were turned around, hands pushing you against the bookshelves in a hasty motion, never minding their grip on you. Your head craned as the gun now found your neck, trying desperately to get away from it but instead having it digging harder into your skin. 

“Now, are you going to do as I say?” You could feel the tendrils of disgust burn through you, face contorting as you twisted in his arms, proving futile against his leverage. 

“Nah, none of that. You hear me?” His grumbling could be heard from deep within his chest while his face soured, the sharp lines of his frown growing darker under the shadow of his hat. Tightening the grip he had on you, his arms wound themselves like vices around you, daring you to make another move. 

He was close now, his hot breath chilling the skin on your face as the smell of sweat and leather filled your senses–tears almost welled up in your eyes from the stinging feel of smoke emitted from his clothing. Every calm yet strained breath that left him was audible, contrasting heavily with your hectic breathing that filled the now-empty room. 

It was daunting yet all too familiar as memories clouded your mind of the same man who was now threatening your life. Did he even recognize you? Or was he too far gone? Had the devil set its claws so deep inside him that he couldn’t longer differentiate friend from foe? It would seem so, you concluded, gazing again at his hardened face, which only recognized a stranger before him–a puppet to get what he desired the most.

“We ain’t got much.” Your voice strained against your throat, thick with unshed tears that lingered in the corners of your eyes. All you got in return was a faint squint of his eyes, gazing at you cautiously as he looked behind him calmly before returning his eyes to you. 

“Do as I say.” Not a word left you, and whether it was from stubbornness or fear, you couldn’t be sure, but the look you were given made sure to convey that crossing him would not end well for you. 

That was until it changed. Arthur’s features softened after he observed your face, running his eyes over your eyes and the slope of your nose until they reached your lips, quickly averting his gaze as he turned his head away momentarily. Did he remember you, you wondered, finding no other explanation to make sense.

It was a long time ago, too long for you to consider the shadow of a man standing before you a friend, yet you had never remembered him to be quite so harsh. So, brutal, perhaps? You had undoubtedly missed a few chapters, but the years were far apart, and time had a funny way of doing its worst to those who deserved it the least. Like wet paint, it spreads, leaching onto good people like a virus–just like bad fosters bad, and good fosters good. 

“Please…” You pleaded with him, fright seeping like syrup into your shaking voice, pathetic and childish. “I-”

There was no time to finish your sentence. The loud thundering of hooves broke through the room’s tension, audible even through the closed window. Loud calls could be heard, as well as swear words further into the building that you did not recognize as Eustace. Worry filled you when you realized Arthur hadn’t come alone in his business to rob you blind, and now you were fearful that your companion might be in an even worse predicament.

The frown on his face deepened, the hold on his gun softening just enough as he pushed you hastily back towards the bookshelf, your legs weakening underneath you as you fell towards the ground. In long strides, he marched towards the window, hiding behind the wall as he peered out, almost blending into the shadows as the light from outside shone brightly. You could see people running past it, in too much of a hurry to peer inside as the shouts grew louder.

“Arthur!” A voice called out, recognizable as the rich timbre echoed through the corridor, gravelly yet smooth. “We have to leave!” As the last syllable left his mouth, you jerked as the first sound of a gun going off could be heard, hands quick to cover your ears as the noise punched a hole in your gut. “Now, Arthur!” 

Everything after that became a blur, your whole body growing rigid as the world turned into chaos. Bullets could be heard going off left and right, rather like a thunderstorm than a gunfight echoing outside the room that now held you in prison. Your body stiffened, muscles tensing as you were brought back to the sounds that filled you with dread, memories flooding you, both unbidden and unwelcome. 

Faces twisted in fear, the acrid smell of burning flesh, rising smoke, and gunpowder–sounds of screams echoing in your ears. You wished for it to cease, for the images to disappear, searching every corner of the room for an escape, somewhere you could go to to rid yourself of the horrid thoughts.

Momentarily, amidst your glancing around in stress, you found a pair of calculating eyes boring into yours, seemingly undecided as they stayed planted beside the window. Your breath came out in ragged gasps, the staccato rhythm of gunfire echoing through the building, mingling with shouts of panic and the sound of breaking glass.

Arthur’s gaze was fixated intensely on you, and a sense of uneasiness settled when you realized. It was heavy, and your heart raced as your eyes stayed plastered to the others–the urgent shouts from outside pierced through the silence as danger lurked outside the room’s walls. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel as if he was searching for something in the depths of your soul, piercing you with a scrutiny that left you barer than if he were to strip you of all your clothes and examine you naked. You found yourself unable to look away, moved by the indescribable way he didn’t seem to be either.

“Arthur!” 

Barreling through the door in a flash of binges breaking loose and dust clouding your vision, a pair of men fell roughly onto the ground a few meters before you, blood seeping through their clothes like a rich, red paint. Splattering on the ground, it almost reached your clothes as bullets rained after them, shooting holes in the walls the few times it missed their targets. 

Frantic eyes searched the now corpses in front of you, expecting to see Eustace's body among them. Yet, you found none–and hadn’t you been too preoccupied with the currants of relief coursing through you, you would have seen the young faces of the poor boys who had found their doom that day only because their perpetrators wanted to fill their pockets.

It didn’t seem that Arthur paid any mind to the mess that transpired in front of your very eyes, more so, still focusing on you like you were the only one in the room. Visibly distressed, it didn’t seem to deter him, his fingers flexing as his gaze burned dangerously under the shadow of his hat. 

That was until he suddenly tore his attention from you in annoyance, seemingly finding the dead bodies in front of you a menace, a simple block in the road. That was until a faint grunt seemed to leave one of them, a grunt filled with pain as frantic eyes flickered around while the rest of his limbs appeared paralyzed, only able to stare at the roof.

Rounding him immediately, Arthur stepped around the man, walking with his dirty boots and rattling spurs into the blood that loitered the floor as the sound of the thick, wet fluid reverberated in your ears. Without a single word, he gave you one last glance. You stayed on the floor, clutching your shoulders with your hands as he bent over the man and stared him unapologetically in the eyes–the only sound after being the loud bang of his gun. 

The sight was gruesome, and to think a man could do something like that without a blink of an eye, you considered even more cruel. You had seen your fair share of malice and anger, anger that turned even the kindest of men into herds of both sheep and wolves, meaning you couldn’t possibly be surprised. Yet, it reminded you too terribly of a time you thought you now would get the chance to lay behind you, never more having to stare these horrible men in the eyes any longer but instead keep them closed.

And you did keep your eyes closed this time, waiting for the moment pain would fill your chest. Yet, it didn’t come since only silence followed, and when you opened them again, the room was devoid of any life except your own; Arthur now only seemed to have been a figment of your imagination if it weren't for the poor victim, his blue eyes staring lifelessly into yous, wide open and terrified, seemingly having turned to you in the last second, hoping you would save him from his terrible fate.

—

Some would say you were of the quiet sort, choosing the words that fell from your lips carefully, both pondering and cautious. It came from a life where those assets were vital, a simple way to keep your tongue in check and do what you had to survive –which you would like to say wasn’t easy when it felt like your mind ran a thousand miles a second, never resting and finding it troublesome to make sense of the world that unveiled itself before you. 

With your mother gone, you found yourself thrust into a world of uncertainty, your father's callousness only serving to worsen the fate you seemed to have been handed as he appeared indifferent to your loss, attention consumed by the demands of those around him. But alas, he was affected too, and you had come to learn that different people react differently to whatever hardships they come by–and those who don’t respond at all seem to be the ones that eventually act the harshest.

That was at least how your father had acted; you perceived his anger as something only a daughter could experience from a father. It was brutal and sudden, only appearing after a silence that rang like sirens in your ears–then grappling and choking. What could possess a man to harbor such anger, you couldn’t say, and while you knew he had it worse when he was little, you wondered if the thought of you only being a child ever crossed his mind.

You should be filled with anger and resentment, so much it could consume your life, fuel every action, and affect every choice you make. You should’ve been immersed in sadness, crying until your voice gave out and tears dried up, yet you couldn’t. They were inside of you; you could feel them leaking into your chest, and as you stared into your own dry eyes, you could only see the malice of your father reflected in them–the malice that seemed to be reflected in most eyes these days.

 It didn’t matter if it was the ladies who sometimes passed by the dusty town of Blackwater or the lone man begging for coins in the corner of some run-down store. Deep-seated anger was in them all, rooted so gravely it felt like the air blackened when you stepped outside. Like a curse, it seeped into the very bones and festered there. 

Why? Perhaps that’s just how humans work, always needing something to prove that the inhabited anger they felt had a cause, always searching to direct it to someone else less deserving of it. So, perhaps there wasn’t anyone to blame for the whole thing—maybe it was just the nature of humans–just like happiness or sadness is a natural way of expressing oneself. It seemed more manageable for you to grapple with it when thought of that way, for it became more of a fact than somewhere to cast your blame. 

That’s why, when the bodies being dragged out the door left their track of dark, red blood, you could only gaze at Eustace, who spoke to one of the officers, refusing to look at the bloodshed around you. It turned out that your old man had been fine, answering in irritation while he told the sheriff that the outlaws probably hadn’t found him big enough of a threat as they searched every cabinet and shelf, taking no care to be careful of the things around them as it tumbled in heaps to the floor.

You couldn’t be sure if you felt relieved or not to have been further away from Eustace than you had been, wondering how your fate would have been decided if the lot of them had found you instead. Perhaps it had been your saving grace to see that the man from your past reached you first, but you couldn’t possibly say. Or maybe your saving grace was the officers who reached you just in time, for there was no telling what Arthur would have done with you had they not arrived when they did.

When you thought about it,  he’d always been unpredictable. While his face was familiar to you, he was unrecognizable in many ways. His movements had been calculating and menacing, and his eyes looked right through you as if it didn’t matter who was standing before him. The only thought reflected in his eyes was the hope of shiny gold and glittering diamonds. But there was also greed–greed and hunger.

You could tell, for you had seen it before. There was a time when that was all you saw, and for a long while, you wondered how far a man could go to satiate his needs–if greed only could grow, worsen like a drug. The more you got, the more you needed, the high never enough, and the thought of gaining more pleasurable to the point of doing anything to receive it.

 However, it was never a look you had seen coming from Arthur when you’d known him, as he’d been more prone to emit a childish want for justice and righteousness, pride, and a strong sense of doing what was right though the act was considered wrong. But it was a long time ago, and you realized that your vision might be clouded by a young girl's naivety that the world was a good place–that people could be wholeheartedly good.

“Dear girl.” Your thoughts were broken by Eustace’s low, seemingly now more careful voice, walking over to where you stood amidst the rushing forms of lawmen. “Are you alright?”

Were you? It was hard to tell, so you had no straight answer to give him. It was too crowded, and since you had nowhere to gather yourself, you weren’t in the right mind to devise a sensible response. So, instead, you answered in a way that would get you the least amount of questions–even though it might have been considered lying.

“Oh, I’m alright, Eustace; they never got the chance to find me.” Giving him a tight-knit smile, you touched his arm, grateful for his concern. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” 

You glanced up at him, finding his sharp eyes doubtful. You should have known. He never took kindly to lying and had an incredible knack for noticing when someone did. It would indeed be your doom one day–and many others, no doubt. 

“No, I suspect they didn’t find the old man much of a threat.” 

“Well, I’m glad they didn’t.” His eyes softened, and he heard your words despite your mumbling. Your gaze stayed stuck on his shoulder, deep in thought. 

Even though the danger had passed for some time, it still felt like your heart resided somewhere deep in your stomach. Your thoughts and the looming dread–the slightly metallic smell of blood filling your nose—were heavy. It didn’t help that Arthur’s face became more prone to showing up after that incident, his grim expression wearing a sharp nose and piercing eyes cutting through the yellowed paper plastered on the city walls, surrounded by his unlawful friends that didn’t look any less menacingly. 

5000§. That was the price for a man taking what he deemed his own, countless murders and robberies on his hands, blood heavy on his mind, and dollars flooding his pockets. It didn’t help your case that the poor boy selling newspapers in the corner outside the bookstore had pipes to last for days, reminding both you and the townspeople of their latest misfortune of having a gang hiding in the shadows. 

Since trouble always seemed to find you, there wasn’t much for you to chastise yourself with, all too familiar with the thought of being at the deep end of one conflict or another. It was laughable, really, that one person could be doomed with such a case of bad luck and an increasing magnetism towards people who fought with bloodied knuckles for power and status. But, in the end, maybe the weak belonged to the strong—just like flies sought feed from the skin of rotting corpses to consume the waste left by those who always strived forward, no matter their intentions or values. Perhaps it was an unspoken law of nature, an inevitable dance between vulnerability and dominance, where the fragile were snared in its horrid embrace. 

What could you possibly do against nature’s firm grip on the world? It wasn’t as if it was an imagined force you could call upon when needed—it was just how it was, and no amount of will or strength could make that fact undeniable. You came to terms with that realization long ago, but the gnawing feeling in your chest was more stomach-twisting than anything you had felt before. What you were scared of, you possibly couldn’t say. Perhaps it was the leftover tremors that still coursed through you or the dampening feeling of nausea that persisted, yet somehow, it was something else, a faint sense that the danger wasn’t over yet.

Could Arthur be the one causing the cold sweat to run down your back even though the room was boiling from the heat outside, making you twist and turn in your bed as you prayed that the wind that sometimes passed through the slightly open window would carry an ounce of coldness so you could feel anything but the enclosing heat that now seemed to warm you to the bone? Your eyes closed tight as if you pressed them hard enough; you would fool your mind that you were asleep, the gnawing voices in your head ceasing so you could, perhaps, finally rest.

There was no doubt about it—you were frightened. It was unusual, this feeling, since while you’ve had many instances in your life where fear was the key factor, after some time, your body—or mind perhaps— grows familiar with it, so familiar that it washes away with the wind. Some fare well when scared, responding automatically as if their minds grow clearer when faced with the means to survive. In others, which is the category where you fit in, grow blank, like a heavy fog settles, keeping you from sensing left and right. A perfect prey, indeed.

And a perfect prey you were, the open window inviting anyone who happened to pass by, and in excellent condition for someone to climb the two stories to reach the wooden frames and then slink into the room with their grubby fingers and glinting eyes—stupid girl, to think so carelessly as if the streets were safe and people were kind. 

Clothes rustling into the quiet night could be heard if you focused your ears hard enough, the floorboards creaking under the soles of muddy boots and clinking metal. Whoever could it be, one might wonder—and you grew paralyzed as the thought hit you, only able to stare at the tapestry that covered the wall in intricate patterns. The room’s darkness lets you hear every slight sound that would otherwise blend into the background, your senses heightened.

Perhaps the perpetrator thought you were asleep, your dreams already taking you to a land where you were dancing among clouds, not a single thought of the fright that would soon take over and turn the clouds so dark you couldn’t differentiate them from reality. Then, you thought, maybe you had been asleep as the sounds disappeared, all too familiar with waking up along the frantic beating of your heart, wide awake as horrible nightmares chased you till morning.

Your laboured breaths were the only thing that could be heard now, only a fool mistaking them for sleeping as you tried to steady your erratic heart. But you would soon find that the cold chill that ran up your clothed arm wasn’t the wind from the window caressing you but the hand of something more foul, riddled with scars that seemed insignificant in contrast to its owner’s sin.

Creaking under you, the bed groaned from the sudden weight, bedsheets rustling slightly as you closed your eyes tightly shut. The figure loomed over you, its large hand carefully moving further down your arm. You wondered, perhaps, if you stayed still long enough, you would be left alone or maybe dismissed as dead if you held your breath long enough. The thought seemed more appealing when you felt the cold skin burn through the garment, the smell of smoke so strong it felt as if you took a drag of the tobacco and let it scald its way to your lungs. It was vile, and in the presence of the sweat that bit its way through your nose, your eyes watered, your body begging to escape the horrid stench.

That was until the pressure lessened, and the room stayed quiet for a while, your heart beating so heavily it felt like someone held it right up to your ear, breath shaking with every small intake. But then, as the silence continued, you felt a warmth spread slowly down your arms, the substance thick like syrup as it made its way through the cotton of your shirt, spreading til the white fabric darkened to a deep, unsettling red. The scent of iron filled the air, subtle yet unmistakable as the shirt clung tighter to the skin beneath. 

You shot your squinting eyes wide open just in time to feel a heavy weight falling over you, unmoving and grim as what you now saw was a man gasping for air. Your first instinct was to scream, but you didn’t get the chance as a hand roughly placed its palm against your mouth, leaving the terrified noise that escaped you muted while your eyes flickered around wildly, trying to make sense of what was going on.

“Quiet now,” a rough voice spoke, removing its hand from your mouth when you became quiet, too shocked when recognizing who it was that spoke. It only grew heavier when your eyes got more familiar with your surroundings, the heaviness that lingered over you being in the form of a man, the warmth you had felt turning out to be from the deep cut across his neck, blood seeping like a waterfall from the paling flesh.

Another scream left you as you struggled to get the limbs away, squirming and trashing as you pushed the hand off you in the process as you begged for the suffocating smell of iron and sweat to disappear. When it did, you crawled backward, body bathing in the slick, blood-soaked sheets. Pushed to the floor, the man was left in a lifeless heap, eyes staring vacantly into the distance.

Those eyes–the sharp nose and squinting eyes—seemed familiar, reminding you of someone you couldn’t quite put your finger on, not while the room remained dark. However, you didn’t have the chance to ponder any longer as more harshly than before, a hand covered your mouth as you remained pushed up against the bedframe, coddling your hands to your chest.

Wet eyes stared into a pair of dark pools, once blue eyes now appearing black in the obscurity of the night as its facial features bathed in the light from the moon. Even still, it was hard to make out who it was, but his voice alone was enough for the realization to set in, now undoubtedly aware of who held your mouth with one hand and the shining blade of a knife in the other. 

“Keep screaming, and you’ll damn us both.” A familiar, grumbling voice spoke out, hushed, yet the warning of danger lay smoldering underneath the surface. 

“Arthur?” Your voice was hoarse when you spoke, riddled with shock when you realized that the man you had feared was in your bedroom, unwelcomed and unwished for. 

“Wh-” You didn’t get to finish your question before he ripped his hand from you, casting you a dark look as he stepped off the bed, the floorboards groaning awfully at the sudden weight.

“Quiet.” There was no need for him to say anything else as you complied, the rattling anger in his voice only fueling his hasty, rigid movements as he bent down, checking the pulse of the man bleeding out on the floor. 

The sight was gruesome, blank eyes shining in the moonlight as if they were somewhere far away, lost in a dream. A dream, you pondered amidst your shock. Yes, this could all very well be a dream—a bad dream, perhaps, yet the thought of it maybe not being real brought you a sense of comfort. But how could it be? It felt too real, and you could vividly recall every moment as it played out in front of you, feel every touch, and smell every scent.

Lost in a haze, you stared down at your body, the thick, red blood more visible as your eyes got used to your surroundings. Closing your eyes, you cast away the faint memories that grew bolder as the smell of iron crawled up your nose, almost gagged by the sight and the imposing smell that grew stuffier, fuller somehow.

Your eyes shot open, watching the dead body heaved on Arthur’s shoulder being thrown over the window sill, the impact noticeable with a loud thud. You could only stare at him as he leaned over, looking around quickly before turning towards you again, nodding his head towards the window. 

If you had been in the right mindset and not scared witless, you would have laughed at his blatant naivety for thinking you would dive head-first into the darkness of the night, with him no less. There might have been a time when you knew him, but that wasn’t the case anymore—the dark eyes cowering behind his hat were unrecognizable, and the unkind tone of his voice was entirely someone else’s. 

“Shit,” you heard him mumble when you made no motion to move from your spot, only cradling your arms tighter around you. Rubbing his eyes in stress, he glanced at you again, almost scoffing at you when you gave him a blank stare.

“Come on then, I ain’t got all day.” As you made no further movement that would give him the impression you were complying, he sighed and, with heavy steps, stalked towards you as the bed rattled slightly from his movements. You only held out your hands when he grabbed your waist roughly, fingers betraying you as they trembled wildly against his chest.

“What are you doing, Arthur?” His movements halted, his leatherbound hands stopped around your middle, and his eyes twitched when he heard his name being spoken. Along the ridges of harshness, you could see a faint confusion lingering in his stare, blatantly staring deep into your eyes unabashedly as he lifted you from the bed. 

“Wha—” You pushed against his chest, and while it didn’t succeed in making him back off, it only made his brows furrow deeper.

“Listen here,” he said darkly, grabbing your upper arms and shaking you slightly. “Do as I say—follow my every word, and you won’t die.” 

You stopped for a moment, bewildered by his words. You couldn’t make sense of it—none of it. Questions were brewing in your mind, but you couldn’t find the words to speak them, couldn’t find the words to scream for help. It might seem funny to be scared of a man you once knew to have a good heart, but you have known men your whole life, and it never takes much for them to see right from wrong and still do the wrong thing.

“What’s going on, Arthur?” you breathed shakily, glancing at his hands, which gripped your arms when they tightened. It was hard to imagine that they had once been so gentle, the thought seemingly miles away as you returned your gaze to his squinting eyes, so close now that you could feel his breath against your skin. “Why are you here?”

Your voice had grown quiet as the question hung loose in the air. Shuddering, the wind flowed wildly into the room, banging the windows against the wall.

“Come on,” Arthur curtly said as he pushed you in front of him. You quickly realized you could hear footsteps from the stairs behind the shut door—Eustace, you thought, a cold chill running up your back as you gasped. 

When you stopped before Arthur in protest, he only gave you a mean glance when you gazed back in concern, telling you all you needed to know. Disbelief was written on your face when you realized his cruelty, feeling it reverberating in your head a few moments before you could make sense of it. 

“Don’t-” 

“Then do as I say.” He whispered harshly, pushing you forward to make you move, and this time, your feet strode hastily toward the window. Two stories high, the room was, and before you could glance back in protest, Arthur pushed past you quickly, landing with a heavy thud against the dusty ground, clouds of it forming as it danced in the falling glow from the lamppost. 

The street below was bathing in darkness, the sullied street more daunting from this high up and saddening when Eustace’s voice could be heard echoing through the hallway, his worried tone reverberating through the walls. It was hard to leave and listen to him calling out for you, yet you realized there wasn’t a choice for you now, and a big part of you refused to see him come to harm. If Arthur would’ve stayed true to his threat, that is.

You couldn’t say why you were so scared, having faced dangers more bone-chilling than this. But perhaps you feared to once more fall into the wrong arms, the arms of a man who reminded you of a past you’d rather lay behind you. But that might’ve always been the case for people who lived a hard life, feeling it better to put it to rest than reawaken it.

Without casting a glance behind you to see the shadow in the hallway flicker wildly as a stressed cane could be heard audibly hitting the wooden floor; you climbed over the window frame, the chipping paint sticking to your tightly gripping hands. It wasn’t until the trashing of air surrounded you that you fell into a pair of arms that immediately embraced you, hands gripping under your waist to ease your landing. 

Quickly, before his hand could linger, you backed away, relieved when you no longer felt the tight hold he had managed to capture you in. His gaze remained heavy on you, and you did your utmost to avoid him, letting your eyes falter, not daring to meet him. How he could act so carelessly, you couldn’t possibly justify, yet his presence alone made you take a few steps back.

His movements were harsh as he adverted his eyes, and you could see how his body was rigid and tense, as if he’d been bathing in ice-cold water. He glanced towards the window, walking towards you as he motioned you to turn around and walk through the streets until the building disappeared behind tons of others, his grip on your arm tight like he worried you would slip out his grasp—or attempt to. Most likely, you thought, knowing exactly what he would do if you tried when considering his earlier threat.

“Where are you taking me?” You applauded yourself for dampening the tremble in your voice when you spoke, somehow finding the simple thought mildly embarrassing while aware it would be entirely valid if you did. This time, you found yourself getting an answer to your question, and although harsh and hasty, it gave you reason to question its meaning. 

“Somewhere safe,” Arthur grumbled under his breath before pushing your back against the local general’s store wall, your figure hidden behind his large frame in the deserted alley. You made another attempt to question him further, only managing to open your mouth before the leather of his gloves covered it, hushing you as his eyes found yours, a threat lying deep within them. 

A few moments passed in silence, the brick wall against your back cold as the small stones pressed uncomfortably against your shoulder blades. Moving slightly, you turned your head to gaze out towards the street, finding Arthur’s hand turning your face back instantly, shaking his head.

It wasn’t long before loud footsteps could be heard through the streets, metal clanking and murmurs echoing as their shadows grew taller from the orange light of the lamppost.

“Be still,” Arthur whispered under his breath, the sound of his gun cocking slowly as if to make as little noise as possible. Stepping away from you, he motioned you to step further into the alley, where the darkness would almost swallow you whole. “Stay there until l come back, and keep quiet.”

You didn’t get the chance to follow his command, though; the sharp sound of a gun went off, the noise so bone-rattling in the quiet, sleeping town it likened to the sound of thunder—a thunder turning into a full-blown storm as it didn’t even take a millisecond before bullets rained through the air, shooting holes into walls and shattering surrounding windows. 

Your back found the brick wall again, Arthur’s back meeting your front as he shielded you with his body. Peeking from behind the building, the sound of his gun went off booming in your ear, his face growing even more grim, cursing under his breath as a bullet flew right past him. His weight pushed against yours when he once more took cover, taking the chance to reload as you gazed at the small cut on his neck where the bullet had grazed him—happy that it hadn’t been you.

Your hands turned pale as they gripped Arthur’s jacket, eyes screwing shut as the noise around you only grew nearer, each intake of breath shallow and rapid, as if the air in and of itself had turned hostile. Desperation clawed at your mind, begging you to slip away from the man holding you back and make a run for it, but you found that you couldn’t, damning yourself for staying still when all you wanted to do was get away.

Although warmth suddenly enveloped your hand, the rough leather and warm fingers wrapped around your sweaty ones. You opened your eyes, breathing erratically as you were once more met with the familiarity of Arthur’s jacket. As you glanced down, you caught a glimpse of his hand encasing you before the sight disappeared just as the feeling passed. You wondered if the hard, cold man in front of you had been the one to do it or if you’d imagined it.

With no more time to ponder, Arthur hastily stepped out on the streets, wildly looking around him with his gun raised as he turned his body in all directions. All dead, you presumed, as no more shots were being fired, yet you could hear more footsteps coming your way, alarmed voices shouting as doors slammed open in the distance. 

“Shit,” Arthur muttered, a loud whistle cutting through the air before he returned to you, casting a glance your way as you gazed worryingly towards the direction of the loud calls, stumbling towards Arthur, feeling like the ground was tilting beneath your feet. 

“What’s happening?”

“Law,” he stated, grasping your waist and hoisting you up what you discovered was his horse. The strong muscles flexed under your weight as you sat behind the saddle, and the chestnut coat softened under your fingers as you tried to find stability.

“Hold on,” Arthur said after heaving himself onto the saddle, casting a look backward when you took too long to follow his words, only setting off when your hands crawled tentatively around his waist, gripping the material under your hands firmly.

You wanted to ask him where he was taking you, but fear choked up your words and rattled your brain as you tried to comprehend your current predicament. So, instead, you held onto his jacket til your fingers turned a paler shade, closing your eyes as you wished that with it, you could disappear—perhaps wake up in your bed once more and feel the morning sun shine brightly upon you as it had done now for quite some time, instead of the cold, harsh air blowing against you, seeping through every garment you were wearing.

You had happily laid the unknown fate behind you when you found Eustace, not knowing the past from the present—not knowing what lay before you. As a child, it had been everything you’d known. And, being brought up always moving, you’d grown used to a stable home, a far-off dream, if even that, since you had never known that stability existed. Food on the table, clean clothes that didn’t reek of sweat and were stained with dirt, and clean water that would surely do you better than the burning alcohol you often got as a substitute for liquid. 

All in all, finding a home with Eustace had been a blessing, no matter how absurd your situation may have looked to others. Therefore, suddenly, having to leave made everything ten times worse—you didn’t want to go, and you cursed the man in front of you, cursing him for disrupting your peace, for taking you away for—well, you weren’t quite so sure yet. 

Although it itched inside you to ask him, you hadn’t missed the part where Arthur seemingly wasn’t the man you had once known. Therefore, you kept your mouth shut, not daring to speak a word while you gazed behind you as the city lights dimmed with time, buildings replaced with trees, and people with animals that scourged away into the woods surrounding the path when the clacking of hooves grew near. 

You rode for a long while in silence, and with every chance you got, you glanced behind you, expecting to see the sheriff’s men closing in on you despite Arthur’s brutal pace—to see the pistols aimed at you in a way you’d thought you’d laid behind you after all those years on the run. But no, no galloping horses followed you, only darkness engulfing your sight as you looked back, the only noise the huffing of the horse beneath you.

Night turned to day, and you never stopped to regain your breath, to make sense of your surroundings. It was consuming, yet you took the chance to feel the now brisk air of the morning caress your cheeks softly, smell the bracing dew and the carrying of fresh air before the heat would set in a few hours. For a long while, you’d forgotten how good it felt to be outside of the city map with no walls confining you, no bustling crowds jostling for space. Nature’s gentle, soothing sounds replaced the constant hum of urban life—machinery and voices. The rustling leaves, the chirping of birds, and the distant call of wildlife may have once done their best to soothe your rattled nerves, yet it didn’t ease now, and you found yourself only growing more nervous.

—

“We ain’t got no other choice but to stay here tonight,” Arthur said as the horse slowed to a trot, examining the area as he squinted against the sharp evening sun. “Reckon, we’ll be safe enough out here. If they ain’t following us, of course.”

A small sigh left you, almost letting a groan escape you as you moved slightly behind the saddle. Feeling the muscles ache deep within, you were unwilling to face a second longer seated atop the horse. You didn’t even register his last words and their hidden threat, trying to remind you what heap of danger you were in—as if you weren’t aware, as if he didn’t already make you more at edge.

As the horse finally stopped at a place Arthur found agreeable, you didn’t wait a second to glide down towards the ground, feeling your feet planted on firm ground, the grass underneath them heavenly as you stretched with your newly-found freedom. 

“Don’t run away,” Arthur muttered as his gaze stayed on you, warning laying deep in his voice.

“And where would I go?” Raising your arms, you gave him a frustrated look, not understanding how he would even make the assumption that you could, the landscape stretching on for miles with only vegetation and no roads as far as the eye could see, only lurking animals awaiting you with open mouths and greedy arms.

“I don’t know, just don’t do it,” he grumbled, sliding off the saddle before throwing you a blanket. As he crouched down, making you believe he was setting up a fire, you walked closer to him, carefully watching the guns on his back, like devil horns sprouting like bone from his shoulders.

“Arthur,” you began, hugging the blanket to your chest. “Will you tell me who those men were?” His mood was terrible, yet somehow, the words left you before you could stop them. There was, of course, still lingering anger at him inside of you, the underlying tones of sorrow that stung its way through you. Yet, you had to know—had to understand why he had turned his visit into a raging bloodbath and who that man was whose blood had dried up your clothes as the fabric had now grown thick and pasty.

“The law, I already told ya,” 

“I know that,” you sighed, trying again, finding it easier to look at him when his back was turned. “But the men before that, and the man in my bedroom….” you trailed off, recalling the horrid moment and the consuming smell of blood, the lifeless eyes once again staring straight through you, brows still furrowed while the eyes stayed wide open.

He halted slightly in his motions, casting a glance sideways yet not entirely looking at you as he rubbed his eyes. Sweat ran down his face as he lowered his hat to rid himself of the still-blazing sun, cursing under his breath at the damned warmth that almost felt torturous when the wind laid to rest.

“Jesse’s men,” he said, continuing his earlier action. Your stomach plunged, shock traveling through your body as you froze, wishing sincerely he’d said any name but that. 

“And the man in my be-”

“Jesse.”

“Oh.”

Backing slightly, you could feel your throat constricting when the familiar name left Arthur’s mouth. It had been a long time ago, yet now it seemed so near, almost too near, being able to grasp the memories that made your heart lurch and stomach turn, something waxy and cold lining your insides at the thought.

Although, with it being given more thought, wasn’t this just your luck? Had it not always been your luck? To find yourself amid everything terrible, of all that was rancid and chaotic—entangled in the embrace of men who, above all else, desired more, strove towards gaining what they deemed necessary. Because of this, there had been many instances where you had felt greed, the familiarity with currents so strong there was no other explanation than rendering yourself no better than others when it came to it. And, unfortunately, it was consistent, for it appeared in everyone—everywhere—whether consciously or not, there had been no way for you to unsee it. 

“But I don’t understand,” you said, your voice quiet as you spoke to yourself, gaze far off as you absentmindedly stared into thin air. “Jesse already killed Charlie. Why would he go after me, and now of all times? He couldn’t possibly be that greedy?” Silence followed, Arthur’s eyes finally meeting yours with reluctance, as if your question bothered him more than he wanted to let on. “Could he?”

“It ain’t—” he trailed off, eyes flickering as if pondering how best to form the words soon to be said. “Well,” he said more directly this time. “Death ain’t enough for some, I guess.”

As his words sunk in, Arthur avoided your gaze, the silence from you enough to tell him that he’d struck a chord in you with his admittance. Horrifying, yet how could it surprise you when you had faced the inner turmoil of men many times, knowing the ways of honor and respect they so desperately clung to? Although there was an underlying dread to his words—like someone had wrapped a bag over your lungs when you thought of what could’ve been—where you could’ve been if Arthur hadn’t been there that night.

When you were both smaller and much more naive than today, you’d seen the bullet that flew right through your father’s skull with both eyes by the hand of Jesse, wide open and undoubtedly too young to stand witness to such a thing—no less it being a parent. You’d been too little; you simply didn’t understand it, and while you can honestly say it didn’t impact you then, being too used to seeing things like that firsthand and not particularly close to your father, it plastered itself onto you like a stamp whether you liked it or not.

Charlie, your father, had grown too careless and brave to think himself above others, particularly Jesse. All in all, that didn’t sit right with him, and as your father went through the grief of losing your mother, growing both colder and meaner with time—an image of his former self—he didn’t have much to care for except the gluttony that grew more consistent as the years passed. Sometimes, you’d ponder if any man could be blamed for it, for it seemingly was engraved in our bones, perhaps a fundamental part of the human mind. 

You’d concluded you couldn’t cast that blame at your father when he tried to usurp Jesse, for then greed battled greed, and you had to choose which one was more deserving of understanding. Yet, you soon came to realize it didn’t matter who was more deserving, for power played a bigger part, and it didn’t care for either justice or discernment—only in which hands it could grow stronger, in which mind it could spread its dark tendrils until it grew satisfied. The only problem was that it never did, and you deemed it the downfall of many, both great and horrible men, those who deserved it and those who didn’t.

After that, you didn’t have much more to say, continuing the late evening in silence as your mind raced terribly after your conversation. You couldn’t help but stay unsurprised by Arthur’s theory, somewhere deep down knowing they probably did have much more in the plan for their leader’s revenge. Death, all in all, might not be so horrible after all when you’d imagine all the other vile and stomach-wrenching things one could do to deem their revenge agreeable—righteous. 

It was impossible to imagine yourself being the one to endure it. You almost felt lighthearted at the thought of men’s grabby hands and hungry eyes, conjuring up bone-chilling scenarios that would make any sane person’s face pale and skin gray. The slap of a harsh backside of someone’s palm was, of course, humiliating enough for you. Still, with time, it somehow felt less personal, as if the memory healed with the bruise, while someone infringed on the fleshier part of yourself, not quite humiliation, for it stretched farther than that—scarred deeper. Pure rot and filth would surely spread through your body and mind, growing until it became a part of you, your past, and your future. 

Your fright for Arthur did lessen as you pondered, growing thankful when you deemed his company much more preferable than the men who sought after you. It reminded you of a time he’d been the safest point in your life—perhaps the first since you laid in your mother’s arms, the warmth only a child could feel from a parent. Safe and undoubtedly free, his arms around you not encasing you—caging you in—but pushing you forward so you could feel the air of the wild blow through your hair, showing you there was more to life than death and violence, that there could be more to a man than his demons.

Of course, you had known what he was capable of—the brutality he wielded with his hands, the blood that tainted them, tainted him. In some deranged way, that thought had always made him even more comforting than he would be without it. It was what you’d known your whole life, and there was no hiding it. It drew you in, but never once had he made the slightest incantation of hurting you, and that’s what made you stay. 

God, you’d been so alike, you and Arthur, and your childhood likewise. It felt like he’d been explaining your life when he told you of his. It didn’t help, for it glued you together, and you wondered if it could even be undone, knowing the rip of the glue, if you ever did, would strip away both skin and bones—take so much from you you were unsure if it could ever heal again. To think it would be horrifying indeed, and in the end, it was; the bruising went so deep you’d wanted to dry-heave when you left, almost ripping your heart out with everything else as you pushed him away.

You wondered, the saddest smile almost showing on your lips, if he had realized how carefully he had handled you since you first laid eyes on him, thinking not of his threats and harsh demeanor but the thoughts behind his actions. Ever so thoughtful and very unbecoming of him, yet somehow entirely expected of his character. You lowered your head, letting your hair fall around you as you tried hiding how the corners of your lips suddenly turned into a frowning smile like you were in on a sad secret only you knew about. 

As you tried forcing your lips to maintain their straight appearance, you raised your eyes carefully after some time, observing Arthur through your lashes as he gazed into the fire. Leaning against an oak, he sought shade from the sun after providing you with something to eat. He seemed deep in thought as the flames caressed his face in the darkening evening, highlighting his sharp, harsh features. A heavy shadow cast over his eyes, hiding what thoughts lay behind them. 

He looked no doubt like a man to fear, with features just as deadly as he was, like the guns resting on his hips and the twitching of his fingers ready for even the slightest inclination of danger. It looked like he was sleeping, yet he was vibrating with tension, like his mind was resting without his body, as if it ran on auto, already aware of every danger that could occur upon you as if it was plastered in the back of his eyelids. 

You conclude that living the life he did would surely do that to a person. You’re not sure what he’s been through since you last saw him but deem it nothing good. Your eyes wandered over his face, gazing over the slightly suntanned skin, watching how the evening breeze made his roughly cut hair tickle his face. The trail of beard started to form, littering down to his neck, where a cluster of chest hair took over, disappearing invitingly into the unbuttoned part of his shirt.

Lingering over the bare skin that glistened with an inclination of sweat from the still humid air and fading sun, they followed over the expanse of his chest that stretched the fabric of his shirt, rising steadily in harmony with his breathing. The faint feeling of his skin under your fingertips ran through your mind, the slight memory so far away that only the feeling persisted. The sharp, musky smell of smoke was almost burning under your nostrils as the feeling persisted, coupled with a smoldering scent that was hard to word; you could nearly feel the warm skin underneath you—the faint sense of hair tickling your cheek. 

It calmed you to watch him, the slow breaths that left him making your eyes grow heavy as time ticked on, the chilling fog of night settling in, accompanied by the warmth of the fire you so desperately relied on. It wasn’t until you were at the brink of sleep a pair of darkened eyes met yours, bathing in the glow from the fire, that your eyes faltered, a scorching blush fighting its way up the skin of your chest till it covered your cheeks wholly—shit. It grew hotter, the air suddenly turning stuffed as embarrassment from your delirious, wandering eyes had been caught red-handed.

You could only stare at the ground in shame, the small pebbles suddenly turning interesting as your eyes stared in false interest. You blamed it on your worn-out mind, the fatigue that had overtaken your body, trying to justify it to yourself. You felt the brutality of another pair planted on you, unwavering, hoping to higher powers they would dissipate so you could pity yourself without an audience. 

“Cold?” Arthur’s gruff voice broke the silence, the words still quiet, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

Did he mistake your blushing cheeks for you being cold? Or, had your distracted mind kept you from realizing that the cold air had done so when the darkening sky fell upon you, too? Crossing your arms over your chest, you felt a shudder run through you, hairs raising as if on cue. 

“I suppose so,” you mumbled, inching closer to the fire that had begun to falter. The embers around it were glowing red as they crackled loudly into the night, the sudden noise making you jump slightly. 

“Mmh.” 

You stared into the flames as silence followed, refusing to meet his eyes. Your pulse was still pounding quickly, and your mind was caught in the horrible moment. Hell, you’d say it bordered on humiliating, throwing off your facade of irritation directed at Arthur and his actions that you were so dead-set on keeping up as well as your walls—so high he couldn’t peer over them the way you couldn’t look over his.

“Come here.”

Your eyes fitted to his, in an instance, baffled by the words that left his mouth, if even that was what he said and not something your sleep-deprived mind made up.

You could only stare at him for a while, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words. Your face was straight as Arthur stared back at you with an expression that could rival yours, arms crossed over his chest, and he leaned against the tall oak. You damned his ability to keep his face so unreadable, eyes still as sharp as they always seemed. His voice was calmer, perhaps slightly warmer, heating like embers glowing in the hearth.

“What?” you mumbled tiredly, voice laced with a sleepy confusion.

“You’ll die of hypothermia before I even get the chance to get you out of here.” His tone was laced with annoyance, grumbling irritably as if the mere thought of the conversation you had bothered him immensely—as if the words leaving him were reluctant and bothersome. 

He didn’t continue, staring at the flames flickering wildly when the wind suddenly picked up—if it was a means to avoid your now wakened eyes or the nonchalance in his spoken words, you couldn’t tell.

The irritation that had been simmering in your mind grew at his words. Your throat constricted with words you wanted to speak, wanting to tell him that there wasn’t a single fiber of your being wishing to be close to him, to give him such a privilege. Had the world turned his head that daft, or had he simply stopped caring what effect his words and actions had on others, no less you?

A few moments passed, and you stared at him, eyes growing hard and sharp like glass, where confusion and fear were replenished. So, to rid both of you from the onslaught of feelings coursing through you, you turned around on the hard ground, bringing your arms tighter against you for warmth as a shudder ran through you.

“When did you grow so cruel?” you asked quietly into the night, watching the warm air leaving your mouth become clouds when you breathed a shaking breath. You weren’t sure if you were speaking about his sudden audacity or the change in his character that so starkly contrasted the one you had known. Nonetheless, you didn’t expect an answer, but you did get one, and a humorless laugh accompanied it as if the truth was some masochistic joke.

“If you only knew.”

—

The night continued in silence, and you woke between the hours from the cold, staring heedlessly into the darkness, ears taut as every noise made your breath hitch, almost expecting to find prying eyes staring back at you when you got the guts to open them. But, as sunlight found its way to you behind the trees, rising warmly over the cliffs, you could finally feel yourself relaxing against the hard ground, bringing the jacket that lay over you closer as you breathed in the scent of smoke and something warmer, muskier.

Blue orbs, hidden beneath the surface of anger and hatred, gazed at you through squinted eyes as the orange tendrils hit the skin of your cheeks just above ĥis jacket. They followed along the strands of hair that ran down your face, tickling your skin slightly as you shook them away from your face in deep sleep.

For far too long, they had only seen gruesome sights—things that would make even the strongest men empty their stomachs. So they stayed a while longer, feasting their eyes on something lovelier—a forbidden fruit laid out before them. The steady breathing lulled them closer as if calling for them, begging them to stray nearer until skin touched skin.

The skin he had once known so well, so well the mere thought of it had become less of a luxury and more of a second nature, a constant need. You might’ve let time do its part in receding the memories, but not him—not when every thought of you had become his way of finding something good in this world—his world. Whatever was left of it gnawed at him, clawed at the inside of his flesh, the scars with age growing visible, larger to only himself; only the aftermath of anger and resentment was what was shown to the world. 

Embedded in the darkest corners of his mind, you laid like a hidden haven, formless yet shaped by recollection. He rarely touched it, for every time he did, he found the flesh of you that was once so bright, so warm, turned colder and grayer, rot spreading its way up your delicate skin, his disease only managing to span through your body. The eyes had grown too lifeless to be associated with yours, the sunken eyes dull and almost bordering on hateful. He couldn’t stand it, so he let it be after some time, outmost refusing to taint your memory with his cruelty and violence, refusing to cover you any longer with his filthy hands. 

It was a part of his life he’d had to lay behind him, a chapter that he had looked upon so fondly laid to rest, only for the next to take form. Oh, how it was riddled with filth and violence, the edge of the papers burnt and soiled. It was simply how it was, he’d concluded at the time, all too aware that it was what lay before him, what had always been destined to be his life. 

What once was a heroic attempt, a means to do good, had been overtaken by gluttony, the constant want for more. A bare and raw sin was what he had turned into, a hungry wolf, led by his brutality and fear—a fear of realizing what he was, what he had always been.

So, he couldn’t help but just for once take you in now that your watchful eyes weren’t gazing at him in fright—a fright he had grown all too used to when others looked at him, whether it was by the end of his gun or in the final short few breaths of their life. You had turned in your sleep, chin resting against the hard ground, when his eyes fitted over you, resting in the soft curves of your face and lashes that lay delicately on your skin. 

The gentle rise and fall of your chest was a lullaby of sorts, a contrast to the storm inside of him. He wondered what dreams might be drifting through your mind, hoping they were far removed from the darkness that often clouded his own, hoping he wasn’t turning them vile.

Arthur gazed over the plump cheeks that seemed fuller, akin to his memories, a soft glow over them as the morning sun washed over you. You had always looked prettier in the sunlight; it was something he had always thought, for it was like two twins meeting each other again, laden with the same light and warmth. The ghost of a wistful smile begged to tug at the corners of his mouth as he indulged in this rare moment of stillness—the rough edges of his hardened soul seemed to soften, if only for a heartbeat.

He wanted to reach out a hand, rough and scarred, and try to let it hesitate above your cheek as he thought it would break the spell of sleep that enveloped you. He could feel his breath caught in his throat, a mixture of awe and sorrow, for deep down, he was aware that the world he lived in had no place for such beauty and peace. He was a ghost in your serene world, an intruder with no right to stay. Still, he would linger, savoring the moment like a condemned man savoring his last meal. 

A dream was all it was, to imagine a different life where you could bask in the sun’s glow without fear and violence. But, as the sun climbed higher, reality would begin to seep back in, and he would reluctantly pull his hand away, the humid air now filling the spaces between you. The weight of his choices and the path he’s walked pressed down on him, so for now,  he’d indulge in the simple act of watching over you as you rested—not sure where to go where the men now seeking your death couldn’t find you yet promising to himself he would keep you far, far away from them.

—

When the sun’s warmth began to cover your skin in a faint layer of sweat, you awoke, being met with the smoking of a dying fire and a soreness in your body that only laying on hard ground could create. You had almost expected to awake in the comfort of your old bed, feeling the soft wind caress your face as it blew through the open window, curtains fluttering in the air as the far-away sound of people chattering could be heard, and the constant chugging of the train.

Homesickness, you thought. It was strange; never before had that feeling grappled you so intensely; never had the thought of being back with Eustace seemed so wishful, so desperate. It pulled something inside of you, and as you sat up, you could only find yourself wishing the feeling away, rubbing your eyes as you set your gaze forward, refusing to ponder over it any longer. 

“No sight of Jesse’s men yet, so I think we’re good,” a voice called out nearby. Looking behind you, you found Arthur going through the saddlebag, his back facing you as you slowly stood up.

“Do you-” You cleared your throat, still riddled with sleep, both rough and quiet. “Do you think they’re still after us?”

“Sure,” he drawled, fastening the bag before patting his horse encouragingly. “We just killed their leader; I don’t think we’re off the hook that easily.”

“You,” you stated, dragging your fingers through your hair as you felt the various knots get stuck in your hand. You tried to sort them out but found your effort unsuccessful. 

“What?” he said.

“You killed their leader, you mean.”

“Yeah, I guess, but they’re still coming for you nonetheless.”

“And the law?”

“If we keep away from Blackwater, we’ll be fine,” he said, turning towards you.

“Then where do we go now?” you asked, staring at the ground as you grieved at the thought of not being able to head back to Blackwater, back to Eustace. He only glanced at you, the slight movement of his shoulders indicating he wasn’t so sure either. 

You walked tentatively towards him, meeting his gaze as he leaned towards the tree where his horse was stabled. He watched you cautiously as if he had any reason to be careful around you.

“How did you know Jesse’s men were after me?”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably, his eyes narrowing as he considered his response. “I have my ways,” he muttered, eyes darting to the horizon. “Words travel fast in these parts, and I keep my ears open.”

You only gazed at him for a while, hearing him sigh when you didn’t let your eyes waver, his eyes narrowing as he studied you, measuring how much truth to reveal. He adjusted his hat, the shadow casting a veil over his expression. “We heard things. Rumors in the towns. Jesse’s men have a way of making themselves known.” You nodded, absorbing the information. It made sense in a twisted way; your past seemed to chase you no matter where you ran or how far you went.

Arthur shifted his weight, his voice dropping lower, more serious. “And when we ran into some of his boys a few days back, well,” He stared at you hard. “They mentioned you.”

“Me?” Your breath got caught in your throat, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded.

“How did you know I was in Blackwater?”

Arthur’s eyes darkened slightly, a shadow crossing his face. He took a moment before answering, his voice low and steady. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you,” he admitted tersely.

You blinked in surprise, the revelation catching you off guard. “Why?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, your tone betraying none of the turmoil. 

He only sighed, glancing away briefly before meeting your questioning eyes again. “Because I had to make sure you weren’t getting yourself killed,” he retorted sharply, his words tinged with frustration. “Especially after everything that happened all those years ago.”

Many emotions flooded through you—confusion riddled with anger, a strange sense of relief you wanted to cast far away. Anger at his presumption, a deep ache for the man he once was when he mentioned the past. “So you’ve been watching me all these years?” you countered, your voice carrying a cutting edge.

Arthur’s jaw clenched, his temper flaring. “I’ve been trying to keep you safe,” he mumbled, his voice growing snappier. 

The reality of his words sank in, and you struggled to process the implications. You met his gaze, trying to keep your composure, refusing to let his anger shake you. “Protecting me by keeping me under surveillance?” you shot back.

“Call it what you want, but I had to make sure you wouldn’t end up lying dead somewhere,” he said gruffly, staring stubbornly at you. “Jesse’s men aren’t exactly known for sending love letters.” 

“And did it ever occur to you that I might’ve been wanting to be left alone?”

“You don’t get it, do you? They’ve been after you this whole time; they still are. You think you can just walk away and be fine?” 

The air hung tense between you and Arthur, his words cutting through the warm air like a sharp blade. “You had no right,” you hissed, your voice low but filled with simmering anger. You knew you were right, and you were sure Arthur knew as he quieted down, grumbling as he strode past you, stepping on the fire’s dying embers to put it out, his movements stiff and rigid.

“We’ll keep moving, get you out of the wild for a bit.” You stayed facing away from him when he spoke, only moving when he extended his hand, motioning you towards the horse. 

“Listen,” he murmured, turning you around before you could sit behind the saddle. “I didn’t—” he turned his head away from you for a moment as if thinking about his following words, hands gripping your shoulders carefully, flexing slightly. “I know how these types of men work, and you would thank me for keeping an eye on you if I told you what they would’ve done to you.”

“And how are you so different from these men you talk of, Arthur?” Your voice was accusing and bitter, and only silence followed from his side. “I used to know a different man,” you murmured. One who was understanding,” you finally said, your voice barely a whisper as your walls crashed, a somber look glazing over your eyes. “Kind.”

You felt him stiffen before you, and he didn’t respond immediately, as if surprised by your words. “Things change,” he replied curtly, his voice devoid of sentiment.

“I can see that,” you said, lifting your hand as if to move his hat out of the way but faltering at the last second. “ I barely recognize you.”

You hadn’t failed to realize it, and it had consumed your thoughts fully since you first discovered it was him when he held that gun toward your head. Never did you imagine he would be the type of man to wield such a dangerous weapon towards a woman—towards you—yet that’s precisely what he’d done.

“You don’t understand the world we live in now,” he said, his tone hardening. “Things aren’t as simple as they used to be.”

“Maybe not,” you replied, feeling the weight of your disappointment settle in your chest. “But I didn’t think you’d let it change like this; I didn’t think you’d become-”

“What? Like them?” he interrupted, his eyes narrowing. “You think I had a choice?

“There’s always a choice,” you shot back. “You used to be a different man.”

“And what good did that ever do me?” he snapped, stepping closer. His breath was warm against your cheek when you lowered your face, staring at the fabric of his shirt. 

“The world is cruel, whether you want to acknowledge it or not, and I had to make sure to keep the gang safe, and I still do.” The last part, he muttered to himself. “And since you decided to leave me-”

“Leave you?!” you gasped, appalled at his choice of words. The familiar stabbing pain gripped your heart when he accused you, and you stepped backward slightly only to find his hands rooting you in place. “I had no choice!”

“No choice, huh?” He said, his lips curling into a bitter smile as if your words were ridiculous and filled with lies.

“I asked-, no begged, you to come with me, but you refused! Talking all sorts of rubbish about loyalty and Dutch this and Dutch that!” It felt like a stone the size of your fist was plunged down your throat while the muscle could only constrict around it, twisting your body slightly so he would let go of you. 

“I realized there wasn’t a place for me there, with you, any longer, so I had to leave before I went insane!” you said. “I couldn’t bear it, living that life anymore. My whole life had been filled with cruelty and violence, and I needed to feel as if I was the one living it instead of watching myself from the sidelines!” Flashes of faces, both grim and cruel, passed your vision, the image of a younger you looking for somewhere to hide but only finding broken souls wandering around you.

Like lost in a maze, you had tried left and right, but with no guidance, it proved useless as you kept wandering, trying to make sense of the world that you grew up in, parentless and abandoned in a gang whose hearts had been ripped out of their chests and feasted on by the devil. His pupils were all that was left, and you, a lost child, were made to endure a world that had been stripped of both kindness and care.

“But you-” your voice was choked up, trembling as your frenzied eyes flickered around you. “You didn’t care enough to see that, and now I can see why.”

“You’re just like them.” As your words ended, the onslaught of feeling simmered underneath your hectic breathing, and you finally felt the pressure loosen on your shoulders. Taking a few steps back, you passed the back of your hands over your eyes, feeling the warm liquid rub into your skin.

Those years felt distant now that they were brought up, and you had done your utmost to keep them far away until one day, you woke up feeling like that life hadn’t been your own; the person you were hadn’t been you and the memories entirely someone else’s. It had become too much, the air around you thick and nauseating when it felt like none of it would stop, like you were in a loop that never ended, only bringing you back to where you first started but with different people this time.

You soon realized that since you managed to remove yourself from Jesse and his men, you’d only wound up sleeping on a hard ground once more, the twigs and sticks poking you through your back like they’d always done. However, the people around you were new, but they were still the same lost souls as you, and the thought terrified you. You couldn’t handle the idea of that being your life, of always following someone who strived towards a goal that, when reached, would only be replaced by another one.

You didn’t dare glance at Arthur, yet you felt his eyes on you. As you tried to calm your breathing, you wondered why he didn’t say anything, defend himself, or retort and fight back like you thought he would. Yet, his lack of words made you second guess your revelations, shame soon filling your body when you realized how much of yourself you’d given a man who no longer cared to understand, who was so far gone your words meant nothing, just like the men he killed in cold-blood—a menace and an obstacle.

“Let’s go,” was all that he replied with after some time, avoiding glancing at you before grabbing your waist carefully to sit you behind the saddle, stomping one last time at the dying fire before sitting before you, no doubt noticing how your hands ghosted around his waist as if touching him alone was a vile and horrid thought.

—

You couldn’t help but ponder over what transpired this morning, all too aware it had to be spoken about sooner or later, but you wished he’d tell you more, explain why he’d acted the way he did and why he’d changed so much even though the words might’ve been said in anger. Yet, perhaps, that is a ridiculous exception, for who can say why they’d change if they even stopped enough to notice they did?  Still, you realized what he had to say might not be what you wanted to hear, and the thought didn’t fail to make your heart sink.

It’s terrible what time can do to one person, but you could not understand how it could wound its way into Arthur so firmly, as if not considering his past self that had been so different from who was before you now. Perhaps being young and in love had made you fail to realize that maybe the man he was now is only an older version of who he’d been then and that he’d only shown the sides he felt deemed to you. Why, you wondered. Had it been shame or fear, knowing very well the cruel place you came from, not wanting to admit that he was a criminal—that he did exactly what every other man would do when following another blindly?

Bringing yourself out of your thoughts, you observed that day had once more turned into night, the familiar setting sun casting its warm gaze over the landscape as the horse huffed underneath you in exhaustion from running all day—tired from the lack of rest and the growing tension that was heavy between its riders. 

Rising your gaze to look at his back for the first time since you set off, you let the follow along the chestnut tone of his hair, trailing over his tense back, eyes focusing on the various scratches and stains on his clothing, the blood that had been rubbed so many times it had turned into a lighter shade, yet the slight pinkness still resided, marking him unknowingly, as if his clothing represented his being. 

It was so unfair, you concluded, yet you felt angry at him, furious at yourself and the world for being unpredictable, for never making anything easy, and more so for laying trouble over minds that from the start were pure, a blank canvas now to be trifled with. But there was also a tinge of sadness over the people you had turned out to be and grieving over the man you seemed to have lost behind smokes of black and anguish.

The pit of darkness that now filled you turned into thunder, and as the rain began to pour, the cold drops doing nothing to wash away the hollowness you felt, you failed to hear the hooves that could be heard from a distance. Arthur, though, had sensed them for some time now, trying to make his abrupt, faster pace less noticeable, hoping to gain some distance before you could see their dark figures form behind you.

Unfortunately, they only gained on you with every minute that passed, reaching out for you with their slinky arms and wild gazes, bullets vibrating in the metal, begging to be released so they could bury themselves into your flesh. Yet, it was hard for them to see, the heavy downpour blurring their vision of you, the fading sun offering them no help, and the galloping of their horses dizzied their sight.

A gasp left you as the horse suddenly stopped abruptly, the reigns held tightly as it skidded across the slippery ground. You didn’t get the chance to be surprised, hastily brought down to the ground, Arthur’s hands almost lifting you with the way he pushed you as you clumsily glided across the ground, grasping onto his arms to find stability as you walked up the small stairs that appeared on front of you.

A small porch, desolated and lonely, spread out around you; from the hasty look you could get, the windows seemed dark and lifeless—not a single light shining through them. The two-story structure seemed to stand on the outskirts of a forgotten, overgrown field, its once-white paint nor a peeling, weather-beaten gray where ivy and wild vines clung to the sides, creeping through the cracks in the wooden boards. The roof sagged precariously, shingles missing in place, revealing patches of rotting wood underneath.

“Shit!” You could hear Arthur shout as the loud weather dampened his voice, grasping the handle as it refused to open. 

“What’s going on, Arthur?!” you said loudly so he could hear you, but you got no answer to your question. He pushed you to the side with one motion, trashing his shoulder into the door, and rusty hinges groaned in protest; the flimsy wood bent slightly before he bolted against it again. With this attempt, he opened it, and it smashed against the wall; the smell of something musty reached your nose as it escaped the house, contrasting heavily with the freshness of the rain. 

“Get inside!” he shouted, and as you hurried inside, you heard the door slam shut. Your back pressed against the wall beside it, and Arthur stood before you, peeking out carefully from the window beside it.

It grew quiet the minute you stepped inside, the rain reduced to a slight humming as it splattered against the one-story house that seemed long abandoned, the faint smell of mold and neglect traveling through the air–the stale, dry air left a metallic tang in your mouth, the taste of dust was ever-present, gritty and unpleasant, seemingly coating your tongue and throat with each short, terrified breath you took.

“Arthur,” you whispered, craning your neck so you could gaze up at him where he leaned against the window, his eyes scanning the storm outside as his hands squeezed your arms gently but firmly.

“I gotta hide you,” he said, his voice low, his throat straining around the words when he finally looked into your eyes.

He pulled you from the wall, leading you deeper into the cabin. The floorboards creaked underfoot, threatening to give away with each step you took. Moving through the tiny parlor, past the broken chairs and sagging sofa, you moved into the kitchen where the cabinets hung open, their contents long since scavenged or rotted away. 

As you gazed back, you found Arthurs’s eyes darting around the place, searching for a place where you would be hidden from the gruesome and horrible event that would soon take place in this already damned building. A small pantry, its doors hanging loosely on its hinges, seemed to be the only hiding place he deemed approvable.

“In here,” he said, guiding you towards it. 

“Why?” you asked, hesitating to enter the small space.

“They caught up to us,” he murmured, watching your hand grasp his shirt. “Jesse’s men.”

“What about you?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll be fine,” Arthur replied, momentarily passing his hand over yours. “I’ll handle them, just please-” he trailed off, grasping your cheeks between your hands so you would focus entirely on his and his words. “Please don’t come out until I tell you.”

A few moments passed before you tentatively nodded, feeling his hands leave you so you could squeeze into the pantry. The small space was barely big enough to hold you as the doors were closed gently, slightly ajar so you could breathe through the thick, consuming air.

A few moments passed, your eyes wide in the darkness as you took in his words. It surprised you there were still so many, remembering the night in Blackwater where it seemed like bodies littered every corner of the streets when you passed them, lifeless and now soulless. How many, you wondered, were outside now, and how had you not managed to feel their presence before, to catch sight of them behind you, yet Arthur could without a glance?

As the first sign could be heard, you held your breath, the beating of your heart almost audible in the small space as it fought against your chest, your hands covering it as if it would give away your position. That was when the door burst open, and you could only clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a gasp that escaped against your will, listening tentatively at every noise that could reach you.

You could only make out Arthur’s voice, low and steady, even though you couldn’t make out the words that left him, almost wanting to cover your ears as if it would help against the terror you knew would soon erupt, praying-no begging Arthur would be alright, that you wouldn’t have to be dragged away from there a weeping mess as Arthur lifeless eyes stared into your own, bullets imbedded in his flesh as you awaited your fate.

The sound of struggle filtered through the storm—the clatter of boots, shouts of men that boomed through the cabin, and the crackle of gunfire. Each noise made you cringe, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to block out the terrifying reality, hands shooting up to cover your ears as the loud sounds lessened; instead, the more vile noise of flesh hitting flesh ensued, the noise bones made when broked and the bloodily smack of skin against skin. 

It ensued for a while, the disgusting sound of grunting and groaning making you remember the many times you had to hide your smaller self and only listen. Listen till the danger was over, examining every sound that could be heard to tell if you’d be alright stepping out or whether it would lead to your death—which had most of the time been the biggest possibility. You felt like you had traveled back in time, with not an ounce more courage than you had lacked back then, quivering like a fool while others fought like madmen around you, wishing you could be somewhere else—for someone to swoop down and save you like in some sad fairytale.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited, heart pounding in your ears as you didn’t dare to peek out from the cracks. Then, amidst the chaos, you heard a voice—Arthur’s voice, calling your name as you heard him breathing heavily, your name strained as he spoke. A sense of relief coursed through you, now knowing he was alright, yet you still lingered for a second, hand hesitating at the door as you feared what sight you’d be presented with. Yet, as you pushed it open, you stepped into the cabin again, taking small steps leading further into the house, trailing over the dark red liquid as you closed your eyes at the bodies it came from.

“They won’t hurt you no more,” Arthur murmured. 

He stood there, hands at his side, his eyes as blood-filled as his hands, the red liquid dripping onto the wooden planks, staining them til they flowed beneath the cracks. Fitting to yours, you could only gasp, taking a step back as you were filled with dread over what he just did, the brutality of his actions, and the lives that now lay devoid of it around you. There had been too much death over the last few days, and although it was either their life or yours, you couldn’t help but detest the constant smell of the deceased resting just under the tip of your nose. 

You gazed over the chaos; the broken glass shattered on the floor, blinding you when the sun was reflected on their surface. The white porcelain was stained red, and the walls had been painted the same color. You felt his eyes stay on you, unmoving and seemingly not bothered by the brutality he just possessed—always had possessed—but not making any attempt to move, as if he was waiting for you to make the first move, speak the first word. 

He looked tense where he stood, and despite his horrible deeds, he looked at you as if he searched for your acceptance, as if trying to convey that he did this for you, that he dirtied his hands only to keep you safe, just like he’d always done. And, as you stared at him, you could almost see his hand flex slightly, as if it wanted to reach out to you, yet was held back, rooting him to the spot.

It might surprise him what you would do next, as the first tentative step towards him—although riddled with a faint fright and shaking hands—never wavered, carefully stepping over the bodies in your way until you stood in front of Arthur, ignoring their deathly, vengeful eyes that almost followed you, rolling into the back of their heads when you went out of sight. 

His hands were still shut tight, knuckles white against the suntanned skin that flexed slightly when your fingers ran over them, bringing them higher as you felt the callousness that bruised his hands. They contrasted so heavily with your own, soft against hard, the veins beneath his skin protruding til the blue shades created valleys, irritated and angry. The warmth of your touch contrasted starkly with the cold reality of his actions, a shiver running down your spine when the blood on his hands painted your untouched skin. Arthur didn’t attempt to push away from your touch but stood like a statue, eyes cautious when you brought his knuckles to your lips, closing your eyes as you ghosted over them.

Every breath you took was heavy; each inhale difficult to make as his gaze remained locked onto yours. The bluish shade grew molten on the edges, warming up the coldness of the otherwise sharp hues, staring into yours like he was waiting for something or perhaps fearing something. It made the ache in your heart settle daftly, staring into the eyes you could now recognize from the ones you had known many years ago, see the man you hadn’t been able to remember till now rightfully.

You pulled away slightly when you realized that man wasn’t standing before you but a figment of him, perhaps a vivid remembrance yet not reality. Your fingers lingered on his skin, though, as if afraid to let go, afraid you might’ve lost him as you’d done before even though he wasn’t whole—the pieces of him scattered wherever he went, falling away like fragments with every step.

Brutally and cold, the devil resided in his eyes, each glance laden with sin and searing pain that engulfed like wildfire, encircling and trapping in its flickering, scorching embrace. It was a warmth that turned cold, caressing with its chilling touch, raising the hairs on your skin in protest—an unwelcome sensation that one dared not wish for. Yet, amidst this, your heart beats heavily–not in fear, but in yearning for his touch to linger.

How could your heart betray you so? How could it stray so far from reason, captivated by a man who made you unable to tell between reason and desire? Traitorously, it thudded heavily within, not out of fear but wishfully. It created an ache that settled so deep in your bones it hurt, a pain born of longing—a desire that scorched like a fever. Every instinct screamed for you to flee, to turn away against your now abandonment of all sense and sensibility—to run far away from the life he reminded you of, a life you’d so desperately feared.

You were caught between shame and confusion as if he could sense your pulse racing against the barriers of cotton and leather. Did he notice your heart’s betrayal and the quivering of your lips as your shaking breath rose like wisps of smoke in the cold air? Maybe he did, for as you closed your eyes, unable to handle the downpour of emotions coursing through you, you suddenly felt his breath against your lips as his presence enveloped you, casting a shadow over the world when he drew closer. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes opened in protest; the space between you dwindled, narrowing to nothingness until you could feel the heat of his breath mingling with your own. 

His eyes burned like smoldering coal, holding you captive as every voice in your head told you to run, hit, scream–anything to get away from him—only to silence when his lips brushed against yours in a feather-light caress. It was far away and fleeting, the small touch of skin almost ghostly as they moved over your trembling lips. His breath was warm, so warm it made heat crawl up your neck, spreading slowly throughout your body.

His careful touch made you wonder when the world turned him so cold. To carry the burns of his soul, hideous and bare, with not a single kindness seemingly left inside him. Was he ashamed of his skin, which wrapped so harshly around his bones, scarred yet strong–cold but fond? Was it right for you to fear the hands that once fell so delicately on your skin, porcelain never having been touched as carefully as he had touched you? There were days you now could remember so clearly, the warm look in his eyes as they caressed over your skin, the naivety and desperation that shone so bright within them—a want so fundamental it made you wonder if it was even possible. 

The years had passed now, and you were both older and saner, but through the shades of blue in his eyes that were covered with darkness that rested like a veil over them, you thought you could still see the same man you had once known, and as his lips met yours firmer if felt like the past washed over you again. And it was good, so good you felt your knees almost give out, stumbling backward slightly but finding yourself not falling heedlessly towards the ground. Instead, the pressure of standing on the ground disappeared as your felt fingers worm their way under your thigh, lifting you in the air. 

Softly, your back met the planks that creaked audibly when Arthur pushed you against them, the material groaning and protesting when he leaned more of his weight against you as if the pressure was too much to bear. You were trapped in his embrace that spoke only of desperation—desperation so raw you wondered if it spread from his skin to yours like a disease, if it traveled through your body, infecting everything it passed in its way.

A certain rigidness could be felt in the hands that held you, their grip tight yet unmoving as if he battled against letting them touch any other part of you. They were there, yet somehow unwilling, like he needed to touch you but couldn’t bring himself to go any further. Perhaps, you thought, he shouldn’t. Maybe it would be best to end it here, not to get any more pain that would surely hurt more than do good. Yet you missed him, missed Arthur so much it felt like a part of you had returned when he was this close as if you could imagine him being who he once was. 

You chastised yourself for it when his lips caressed you softly, letting them push further against yours. The distant sound of chattering and calls beckoned you from afar, the clanking of pots loud in your ears as he had you pushed up against a tree, far and hidden from curious eyes, all your senses focused on him. It had been so simple then, such a warm, inviting touch, the feeling differing strongly against the violence and pain that had followed you until you met Arthur. It was the only reason you’d stayed with him for as long as you had, for never had hands handled you so carefully, so tender; never before had you stared into a pair of eyes that, without a blink, promised to keep you safe and sane.

It felt different yet the same; for now, those feelings mingled together, the brutality shining so strongly within him. Yet, his hands were so gentle, his means to keep you and cradle you in his arms til no one else could touch you so palpable it made every fear you had for him dissipate with the wind that flew through the cracks in the wall. It felt like you held a giant in your grasp, a lost soul seeking the goodness of his past, wishing to erase the bad and expel the vile, monstrous thoughts that he’d been forced upon—expectations he grew up with. How could you possibly blame him? How unfair was it for you to tell him he was wrong, that he acted wrongfully?

Your hands shook as you brought them up to his cheeks, claiming< them in your grasp, feeling him sigh when your fingertips ghosted over him as if the feeling alone chilled his blazing—scorching—skin. Following that means of human nature, his hands that kept you lifted from the ground raised one, caressed its way over the swell of your hips, letting it feel the warm flesh emitting from under your clothes until it followed the path of your sides til it found the valley which where your waist sunk in, letting fingers grip under the harsh bones of your ribs.

A gasp left you, lips parting as if to speak but only inhaling his warm breath, pushing your head away, yet your grasp on his cheeks making him follow you—ordering him to chase the pink, swollen skin that begged for the sensation of more—demanded it. You realized soon that you didn’t have to, his imposing frame pressing you further into the wall, no longer needing to hold you by the tight to keep you from the ground as his lips sensually now found yours again, a deep, dark rumbling—like thunder brewing—could be heard deep into his chest.

It was sickening, the air thick and pasty, like breathing into sourdough bread, the swelling yeast filling all spaces around you, making it difficult to breathe. When you needed air too much, begged for the oxygen yet displeased with the thought of parting with Arthur, he pulled his head away slightly, eyes opening to gaze at your closed eyes, the warm tint of red rising from your chest to your cheeks.

 Opening them, you’d only be given a moment to stare upon his face until he leaned in again, his lips finding their way to the dip of your collarbone, rising to cover the space where your shoulders dipped up to the slope of your neck. Inhaling, exhaling, he breathed in the dizzying warmth of your neck, groaning when he let his tongue taste the humid skin that was scorching under his wet, slippery touch. 

So divine, yet so dangerous to touch what wasn’t his anymore, what couldn’t be his—but he couldn’t deny he longed for you, couldn’t deny that your smell alone awakened the man he had been, your hands reaching out to him like the gates of heaven shining with its door wide open. A cruel joke was what it was, but he had no want to dispel it, to turn it away. It taunted him, laughed at him, giving him a fair bit of pleasure so the rest of his living days would turn to torture, a small taste of what he could’ve had before dooming him to an eternal defeat—dooming him to live the rest of his days a hollow shell.

Your hands found the back of his head, fingers threading through the strips of hair that felt like velvet under your skin. You couldn’t help but push on the back of his scalp to bring him even closer, dismayed when you realized he was as close as he could be, fingers gripping his hair so tight you feared you would leave tufts of it when you released your grip. You only got a hum of satisfaction in return, the feeling of a wet muscle traveling down your collarbones til they ghosted over the swell of your breasts carefully, like waiting on a signal before they could devour, let their touch consume you.

“Arthur,” you mumbled, lost in what was wholly him, the very fibre of your being begging for him never to stop, wishing he’d never done all those years ago.

You only got a low, appreciating groan in return, only gained the feeling of cold air hitting your legs as he snaked his hands under your skirt, hitching it up as he let them run over the bare skin like a starved man, not even an inch of you left untouched. The wind’s chill lessened when his rough, warm hands caressed you, soothing your aching, quivering legs. Almost, it seemed, he mended every bruise and hurt, internally or externally, replacing them with something that felt so divine you were nearly sure you were dreaming when he returned to your lips, his once guarded eyes bare before you.

He took a few steps back, letting your feet hit the floor as you followed him. You did not let him back away further as you walked with him, rising on your toes and writhing your arms around his neck. You were now the one to cage him in—cage him with your want and desire, your love and hope. It would be a terrible defeat if he stepped away from you, and your stomach twisted at the thought, the familiar pang of sadness only love could create.

“Don’t go,” you whispered, feeling his arms wound around your waist as he stumbled backward, his tall frame big and clumsy in the tiny house. He frantically ran his hands over you before hoisting you up again, seating you on the dark wooden table in the kitchen’s front of the sink. Your mind had grown clouded, his whole being morphing into the man that had once caressed you so gently—and when he did now, it made you dizzy, wondering if they were so unlike as you thought.

“I won’t,” he mumbled against your lips, the words hasty and muted when he didn’t want to waste a second of feeling you against him.

“I won’t,” he spoke once more, this time the words only coming out in nonsensical grumbling as he pushed you softly towards the poorly sawed planks after pushing the various knickknacks of it, plates falling audibly to the floor to join the rest of the mess, burying his face into the nape of your neck to once more take a final breath before standing up.

The mess around you turned vile and filthy compared to the wondrous look on your face as you watched him, the familiar pang of pleasure beating so heavily in his stomach he thought he might puke—coupled with the still warm, wet blood now lining the skin of your legs from his hands. A few moments passed where he stared at you, ignoring your hands that reached out to him as the horrid monster clad in black garments and poisonous fingers got to him first, digging its claws into his back, wrapping its fabric over his mouth till he felt himself suffocating. 

It wasn’t until he felt nimble fingers ghosting over his hands, running along the inside of his wrist until they intertwined with his, that the small, supple kisses on his cheeks became his saving grace. Diminished the cruel and twisted devil that rested on his back, all he could think about was the gentleness of your hands, gazing to watch your furrowed eyes filled with understanding—yet a gracious knowledge at that.

“I know you, Arthur,” you whispered, laying your head on his chest. Listening to his wildly beating heart, you found comfort in his erratic breathing.

“No,” he mumbled, resting his head on top of yours. His arms were slack on his sides as your hands passed over the broadness of his back. You gripped the dark leather of his haunches as you slid them down his arms, letting them hang in the stuffy, thick air. “Not anymore, you don’t.”

“Well, you’re still as stubborn as you used to be,” you said softly, the corners of your mouth rising slightly when a grumble left him, acting like you couldn’t feel his slight smile against your head. “Still as warm as you were then,” you mumbled, hands slowly running over his arms that flexed slightly at your touch, mouth opening slightly as they came to rest on the table, trapping you beneath them. “Still as strong,” you gasped when he leaned over you, pressing his weight into you.

He closed his eyes as you spoke, basking in your quiet, warm tone, which he missed hearing. “That don’t matter anymore,” he said, feeling you snake your arms around his neck, arching your body against his, as one of his hands naturally found sanction on your waist. “What I’ve done—” he trailed off. “What I am, it’s not something I can run from.”

You felt your brows furrow, grief finding you at his words that rang so melancholy into the quiet air, the heaviness of his voice alone ripping the tapestry and breaking the windows. As you were about to tell him he was wrong—that although his actions had been so blood-filled and vile, you knew who he was deep down, for you had seen it, seen it in his eyes when he looked at you, seen it in the way he still cared about you—he instead laid you back down on the table carefully, covering you with his body as he hitched your legs around his waist.

Your breath hitched when you felt the rigidness rest against your warmth, feeling it lay heavily under the fabric of his pants. “Yes, you can,” you gasped, hands finding his shirt as you searched for something to hold onto, wishing it away so you could see the skin underneath it and feel it against your own. 

You didn’t gain an answer, only the tugging of your undergarments, the chill from being bare cold against your skin, yet Arthur’s hands warming them straight back up when he tenderly caressed your inner thighs, stabilizing their trembling although never letting his palms stray too far, ignoring the way your legs tightened around him, trying to chase his touch as they attempted to chase his touch but finding his hips pressing into yours further, leaving you no place to go but stay in place.

The motion made a groan, quiet and unprepared, leave him, yet you had heard him. As your hands wound their way beneath his shirt to palm over the broadness of his chest, hips moving against him with the bit of space you had in protest, you looked up to find his gaze planted on you, head raised. Yet, eyes looking down at you, like he was trying to hold himself away, failing to escape from the softness of your touch. 

He was too deep into it now. He felt the restraints that once were so tight around him lessen as he kept staring into your eyes, those deep and fascinating eyes that he didn’t deserve—that no one would ever get the chance to deserve. It was selfish for him to continue, but he wished to feel you one more time so he could restore his memory of you until he turned viler, meaner, the black poison coiling around his heart til he faced its death wrapped up in its grasp.

So, he found himself leaning into you once more, focusing on your hands that now had seen the planes of his back, his muscles flexing involuntarily as you did, his hand hitching your dress up further, letting it go past the delicious curve of your waist, groaning internally when he realized he couldn’t rise it further. So, he let his head rest between your breasts, pulled out from the tightness of the fabric, letting his tongue run over the warm skin. 

You felt the arms of your dress hastily go over your shoulders down your arms, breath hitching when you felt his mouth able to travel lower until it caressed the inside of your breast, his rough stubble like sandpaper against the sensitive flesh. It was addictive, his whole persona making you desperately cling to every bit of him you could manage, grasping wildly as if he was made from thin air, trying to find something that would turn him back into a solid form, something you could touch. 

The slight feeling of him grinding into you made you clasp harder. Your hands found his biceps as the back of your head hit harshly against the table, and your hips wound tighter against his waist. The roof above you blended, the colors of brown and ashen blond mingling as the morning sun shone through the windows, the tendrils of the light casting the room in a way that almost looked ethereal—too good to be true.

And it was, the whole moment was, and you memorized the touch of his hands and traveling mouth, imprinting it in your mind so you could remember it forever. It still, despite his words, felt like he would somehow dissipate, and it turned into your worst nightmare, like the last pages of a book that would send you reeling, biting at the corners in despair and slamming yourself against the wall in anger. It was pitiful, the way you were brought to your knees in front of the man you had not nearly long ago feared—more so wondering if you feared his actuality or feared how long a time had passed, how time changed and ruled people's character, how you didn’t know him anymore.

Or perhaps you feared the way you knew it had been doomed from the start, always known, the very first day he had planted his brisk, blue eyes on you, full of life yet the underlying promise of something that could only be transcribed into pain—of hurt and blame. Perhaps you were afraid of knowing that it didn’t matter how often you’d come upon one another; it would always end the same way, for you were both too broken by the life you laid upon you. The chance of redemption was maybe possible once when you were younger, but you feared that it was lost. And, while Arthur reminded you of a past you’d rather lay behind you, prayed and prayed through years of peril and hurt, wished you could run from it, you perhaps had reminded him of what he’d once had and what he could never deserve to have again.

As Arthur lifted his head, you could see in his eyes that he knew, knew there might not be a time when you could live out your life together, for he too was aware that it might be too late, that the world's grip on the both of you was too firm. Yet you both ignored it, entangled with one another as your limbs melted into the others, your motions becoming erratic and desperate, wishing—no, seeking desperately to bring the other back to life, back to what you once had been. 

“Please, Arthur.” Clawing and almost beating his chest in desperation, the tension so ripe it felt like you might combust, you begged him to let his skin lay upon yours, bare and exposed, as close to each other as was humanly possible. It felt like a border, keeping you apart in a pitiful, almost laughable way. 

“I know, honey,” he murmured, his voice steady, yet the beating of his heart speaking more than his tone ever could. “I know.”

Rising from you for the slightest of seconds, he hoisted his pants down his hips and over his thighs, dark, desirous eyes never taking their gaze off you where you lay breathless on the table that, compared to you, looked like rotting wood. He damned himself for letting you lay upon such misery, to unveil you in such an appalling space that now reeked of death and foulness.

When your hands reached out to him, he let them bring him back down, watching the way your eyes fluttered when he graced upon your pulsating warmth, his own eyes closing for a second before opening again, looking away so he could regain his senses, regain his clouded vision that only flashed with pictures of you beneath him, as if you had surrounded him. That is, only for a short while, not taking long before he had to—needed to— return to you once more, to slip through the warmth of your walls that wrapped around him, the palm of his hands slamming down the table as you clenched around him, the sheer bliss that left your throat burning like embers inside of him.

There was no outlet for him, nowhere to go, so he hitched you further up the table, pressing into you so he could feel you closer. The feeling of your hands in his hair was nauseating, the taste of your skin intoxicating as he kissed the corner of your neck, burying his head into it as he felt your strands tickle his cheek. Slowly pushing out to then enter you once more, he grew greedy, not wanting to spend even the slightest of time away from you.

It was tender the way he moved—careful—and you could only follow his movements as he stayed on top of you, the strokes desperate and short. The small moans that left you rose into the quiet house, your breathing hitching with every thrust of his, almost feeling like the air was being punched out from your chest as you slid further up the table. Arms wound themselves under your shoulders, one hand grasping the back of your head to keep you in place—to avoid letting your head hit the hard surface.

It wasn’t enough; how could it ever be enough? Wrapping your arms around his neck, you gasped audibly when his hips moved faster, now almost grinding into you, his breath shallow and erratic, white knuckles grasping on the end of the table, as if he was controlling himself, unsure what to do with the pleasure that was riding through his body, bleeding into his very bones.

“Come here,” he murmured, gently lifting you so you were seated upon the edge of the table, looking up to meet his eyes. Continuing his tender thrusts, your lips sought him, finding his eyes not closing but planted on you, eyes lidded and chest red from exhaust. A sheen of sweat dripped slowly down his neck to his chest, disappearing through the unbuttoned shirt, the material sticking to his skin like glue. 

Pushing your hips further against his, he groaned, resting his head atop of yours when you placed mindless kisses on his exposed skin, mumbling nonsense as he hugged you closer, his breath hot and ragged. Every movement sent a jolt of pleasure through you, sharply white and burning red, coiling tighter and increasingly tighter within you. The sound of your mingled breaths filled the room, and you could feel his muscles tensing beneath your touch, almost seeming to tremble.

You whispered his name, a plea and a promise all at once, and he responded with a low rumble that resonated deep within his chest—a guttural groan escaping his lips as he pushed deeper, the table beneath you creaking with the force of his movements. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, just like you were before, just like you once had been—Arthur guiding your movements as if he was determined to merge his body with yours. 

His arms tightened around you when you straighten your back to reach his lips, capturing them in a kiss that left you more breathless than you had already been as his pace quickened. The friction, heat, and sheer desperation were too much to bear, yet you craved more. His eyes were wild, almost desperate, as he responded to your plea, every thrust, every gasp, every whisper filling up inside you as you begged to god it would never end, hoping and demanding that nothing would take it away from you.

Yet, you knew it wouldn’t last, and therefore, you felt the tears burn at your eyelids, the hot liquid falling slowly down your cheeks as you found your back pushed against the surface of the table once more, Arthur’s hand softly wiping away the tear that fell from your eyes as despair filled his own.

“Don’t cry,” he mumbled, a low groan leaving him when you tightened around him, unable to ignore the way you sucked him back in. “I can’t-” He ground his teeth when the familiar coil spread through his stomach, wrapping itself around every organ and bone. “Please, honey, I don’t want you to cry.”

“I miss you,” you gasped under your breath, words choked up as you focused on the way he dragged himself in and out of you, feeling like someone was twisting your guts inside your stomach when you thought once more about him disappearing from you hold like ash, only leaving faint memories before blowing away with the wind. “God, I missed you, Arthur.”

He struggled to catch his breath, his hand finding your thigh as he pushed it further up the table, the new angle making your breath hitch. “I know,” he groaned. “God, I know-”

Was it all a dream, he wondered, would fade away from him as his evil deeds caught up to him, for once letting karma do its part? Would you vanish right before him, leaving him to face the consequences of his actions alone? He only held you closer as the thoughts passed, keeping you tight in his embrace as his elbows encased your head. Capturing your lips on his own, his eyes shut tightly as he tried to memorize the feel of you—the warmth of your breath, the softness of your lips, the way your body moulded against his. 

The time seemed to stand still, yet it passed too fast, the coil wrung so tight it felt like your stomach would combust, pleasure so raw filling you it felt more like torture than anything else, and as you felt his hips ground themselves into you, one hand stroking so tenderly over your brest it felt like shots of electricity zapped its way through your body, you thought yourself tightening around him, gasping for air.

“You’re alright,” he murmured against your lips, consoling you as your moans left you without your allowance, desperate and bordering on pitiful as your whole body felt like it was burning up—like the very flesh was set afire with gasoline. 

“Please, Arthur,” you gasped, not knowing what you were pleading with him for, yet the words left you involuntarily. Perhaps you wished for him to remove the hollow feeling that resided deep within you, to soothe the pain that never seemed to go. Or, possibly, it was deeper than that as you pleaded for him to return to you, to show that he was the man you’d remembered.

“That’s it,” he cooed at you, kissing your forehead softly as you clenched around him. Your hands found his shoulder as they gripped tightly, head knocked back against the table as a long, drawn-out moan left you. Staring up at the ceiling as the world grew dizzy around you, the bliss that traveled through your body was like no other. 

His movements didn’t slow as you relaxed slightly on the table, now running your hands over his skin soothingly, gazing into his eyes as he groaned audibly, chest heaving heavily as he frowningly stared into yours, observing you like you held something he couldn’t have that he strived for, pushing and pulling you closer to him.

Lost in pleasure, it felt like he was gasping for air, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing through the now quiet house, only the splatter of rain still audible from outside, yet his ears were focused on something else entirely as you whispered his name, beckoning him to your as your eyes were tired yet warm in the afterglow, looking like something not quite real—more or less surreal—or perhaps ethereal.

With one final thrust, he buried his head in the nape of your neck, hands grasping the edges of the bale as he grimaced, taking a few seconds before letting a guttural groan leave his chest and travel through his throat, muted into your skin as he gritted his teeth. Pulses of pleasure wound themselves through him in intervals, the warm, wet feeling of your walls encasing him, wrapping around him wholly as he, with one last movement, buried himself deep, so deep there was no way out—and god, he thought as his breathing stayed hectic, god how he wished there wasn’t.

Especially when he rested against you, trying to catch his breath, revelling in how you hugged his head closer to you, pressing small, quiet kisses against his jaw as if you tried not to disturb him, letting him regain his senses. Letting a hand travel down your sides, he caressed your skin, feeling the softness underneath it as it went further down to then rise back up again, finding pleasure in the way your breath hitched from the sensitivity as he passed a thumb over your breast. 

You didn’t speak much, for there was so much you wanted to say that it became overwhelming, leading to you saying nothing. How could you, when you weren’t even sure how to describe your emotions, which seemed still but then everywhere at the same time, running through your mind endlessly with no sense of direction or heading? Where could you go from here that would satisfy you both and let you stay with one another despite your differences? 

You wished you could drag answers out of Arthur, torture his mind and soul until he had no choice but to respond, yet you doubted he could even know what to tell you, for he wasn’t sure, and you could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch that contradicted his mind starkly. Every motion and caress was soft yet reluctant, and you could hear the slight sway in his voice when he spoke to you as if he battled against his will and obligations. It tore you apart to realize he struggled against himself, struggled against his beliefs and wants.

You realized that whichever hands managed to strangle your relationship before would surely do it again. To be quite honest, it did scare you, more than you dared to admit, for you knew you were two different people now, and when your bond wasn’t strong enough all those years back, how could it be now that you both had your inner anguish that clawed itself inside your walls, thrashing and screaming. More so, changing for someone else is a terrifying thought per se, and there was no mistake in thinking that would be the case for both of you. A cruel, horrendous fate, indeed.

[sashi-ya]

YES, RENO-SAMA soft dom! ichikawa reno x f! reader. dom/sub

⋆ requested by: anon. Could I ask for Reno or Kalfa from Kaiju no 8 for dom/sub whichever you feel motivated to do. f!reader please and thank you. ⋆tw: mdni. explicit smut. soft! dom! ichikawa, he is very kind but dominant as well. oral (given). spanking. vag. ⋆wc: 2.2K // event masterlist

You would naturally think of Reno as a calm man, perhaps an even soft vanilla lover. But tonight, you are about to discover you were completely wrong.

Captain Mina has given you all a free day after a very rough battle; everybody left the base as fast as they can, nobody wanted to lose a single minute of freedom. Plus, nobody were sure when a new Kaiju might be attacking, therefore you all needed to make the most of that day.

“Uh… (Name), wanna… maybe- have a date tonight?” Reno asks, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

Your relationship has been growing slowly since you both joined squad 3; only kisses and not much more were shared. Both were definitely too focused in learning and getting stronger. However, the click in which both have fallen for the other had been instant.

“Of course!” you chime happily, soon turning in a kinda embarrassed expression when his hand grazes your to grab it. Even if probably every member of the squad already know about you, it’s still all very new.

He gives you a delicate smile and grips rather strongly to your hand. Reno guides you outside, as if he had taken the lead the moment you said yes to his invitation.

You follow him, of course, as his steps are firm and steady. Something about Reno’s vibes tonight have you amazed; a dominant aura that you kinda want to submit to.

Both agreed not to attend any restaurant tonight; and despite the word “date” had been used, you were happy to have some hot instant ramen by a seven eleven on a random street of Tachikawa.

“You sure you don’t want to go to a fancy place, (Name)?” he asks, a little confused.

“Not really; I always wanted to eat ramen on a conbini with you” you smile as you slurp one single noodle with grace.

He scoffs sweetly, and taking a poor-quality napkin, Reno cleans the commissure of your mouth coming very closer to it.

You smile, allowing him to kiss your lips. First a peck, then a more passionate one. And then, another.

The tension built; the need implanted. The kisses given started to become mingy for the both of you. Your flesh and body have now started to ask for more ~

“Where are you sleeping tonight, Reno?” you ask, in between those breathtaking kisses.

“Uh… I think I’m coming back to the base. There aren’t really any trains at this time that will take me home” he honestly communicates.

“Oh, I see. Maybe you could come home if you prefer not to go back to the base” you murmur, fixing your eyes on the floating naruto on your soup.

Reno smirks, and it is probably the first time you get to see such evil tinted smile coming from him. He stands up, walking right behind you, passing his hand from your waist up to your belly bottom.

His chin rests on your shoulder, his arms squeeze you harder. The tall chair against the counter on the convenience store windows, only separates your back from hitting his abs.

“You want me tonight, (Name)?” he susurrates, surprising you big time. You didn’t know Reno was capable of speaking in such way.

You swallow with eyes opened big. That’s not a lie, in fact, you want him tonight and the following nights as well.

“Yep ~” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burning -and your core, even more-

You aren’t sure whether you finished or not your 200円 soup, but you are indeed sure there is something more delicious awaiting for you the closer you get to your apartment.

And here you are; right in the front of a 3-story building, typical suburban construction, with a teru bōzu still hanging from the side of your balcony. Reno hasn't said much during the walk there, so you are not sure what will happen next…

Well, the moment you open the door for the both of you to come inside, he snatches you from your waist to finally plaster his lips against yours.

His hands reach for the small of your back, pulling you against him. It is not surprising that you can feel his hardness through his dark grey jeans, and in fact is all you wanted deep inside you.

Despite knowing the hallway shouldn’t be used for this, there is nothing you could do to stop that silver haired man that’s willing to devour you.

“Re-Reno… I live on the second floor…” you manage to inform, as he bites your neck.

“The moment you cross that door you have to promise you will obey me, ok?” he whispers right in your ear.

What did he- why- is this… should I say no? should I say yes?

“Yes, I will Reno”

On its own, your lips spoke confirmation. Your body in charge, your brain shut down.

He softly pushes you inside, and him follows. Closing the door right behind him, he doesn’t care of any of the excuses you could probably mumble about the state of your living room. He simply aches for your body, for you submission.

“Please, (Name). Kneel down” he commands, dominantly and yet soft and calmed.

You nod and slowly let your knees reach the ground. You are not innocent; you know exactly the way your hands should be resting on your thighs; you know exactly he will make you wait enough for the next order.

He takes his bomber jacket off, letting it fall to the ground, and walks slowly towards you. His hips are now closer to your face, and you are dying to crawl on his leg like a kitty in need.

And in fact, that’s exactly what he wants you to do. His index travels down your chin, pulling your face up, making you come closer to his sex.

“Come here” Reno commands, patting his thigh.

You comply, grazing your palm from his knee to his hip bone. While your cheek already lays on his lap. The warmth of your breathing reaches his crotch, making that silver haired man squirm just a little.

His hand falls upon your face, soft, gentle but dominant.

“I didn’t know you were that submissive, (Name)” he comments, while a single look tells you to lower the zipper of his jeans.

“We seem to be a perfect match, Reno… I mean, Master Reno” you murmur, giving him puppy eyes. Your lashes casting shadows on your heated cheeks, as the light inside your apartment only comes from the big windows of your balcony.

Reno swallows; he might be a secret dom but is difficult to resist to your lulling enchants. His cheeks get a slight pinch of pink, his hand gets a little sweaty.

You proceed to kiss right on top of his boxer shorts, as he pushes you ever so softly against his hard rock sex.

Your eyes never leave his lilac tinted grey ones, as the tip of your tongue taste the precum dampening fabric of his underwear.

“Can I pull it down, Reno-sama?” you purr. “You may, (Name)”  Reno mutters, with difficulty.

You proceed, eager to see what he is hiding underneath, eager to taste his flavour right from the source...

The elastic hem slides down, getting stuck in his prominent hipbones. Delicious anatomy, muscle, bones, skin getting bumpier as the tip of your nails scratch softly his flesh.

Freed his sex, you take a little time to enjoy the beauty of it. Hard, of course. Pale, but with a blushed tip. The right size, even if it might be too long for your mouth and throat.

Sticking your tongue out, sexily showing the reddish wet tip of it, reaching so close to his very own tip. A drop of precum connecting both surfaces, forming a string of transparent deliciousness.

Unable to resist a single second more, Reno needs relief. Even the toughest can flaunter… “Suck it ~” he orders, with a raspier voice than before, with a serious -yet desperate- tone.

You nod and immediately after you surround his sex with your hand, pumping slowly as you take it to your mouth.

Deep, deep until you gag. His hands tangled on your hair, moving your head up and down, making it bob violently. Reno can’t go slow no more; and your teary eyes looking straight into his, can only fan the flames.

Your knees, still on the ground, have stopped feeling the pain of your body weight against the cold floor. Everything is focused on the way Reno grunts. Your arms, surrounding his hips. Your nails, carving tiny marks on the small of his back.

But Reno is not a man whose only purpose is to receive pleasure, and in fact, he is quite more interested in making you moan his very own name. And thus, he stops your oral delight -even if his body ached the moment your lips abandoned his hardness-

“Stand up, stand up” he orders, with a broken voice and trying his best to keep himself together.

You do as he asks and wait for the following instructions. However, he is barely able to think of anything besides pushing you softly to your couch.

Like a victim, waiting for a beast to attack, you wait for him to finally pounce on you. But him, being how gentle Reno can be, still is able to contain himself to undress you in the most sexiest way possible.

Only his long grey shirt covers his body now, as he has freed himself from the trousers trap around his ankles. Kneeled on the sofa, right next to you, he gets rid of your shirt.

Exposed your breasts, his smirk turns more visibly. Reno is pleased with the view, probably happy that he is able to see them for the first time.

Then, and without still touching you -leaving your expectant body desperate and hot- he proceeds to lower your dampened panties. Reno leaves your skirt on; he knows exactly what he is doing.

“Come here, sit on my lap” he commands, sitting comfortably on your couch.

You smile, and definitely jump on him. Your warm folds land on his throbbing shaft. There is still no penetration, but it is enough to feel flesh against flesh. And it is absolutely wonderful and intimate.

He proceeds to run his fingers through your ass cheeks, while his lips first land on your collar bones and then down your breasts.

You can feel his sex trying to reach your entrance, on itself, so desperate to finally bury so deep inside your walls.

With still a hand on your ass, moving you up and down, and the other one reaching for your clit, Reno traps one of your nipples into his mouth. He pulls and sucks, and traces circles on your very sensitive feminine spot.

Your head thrown back, whimpers leaving your mouth, nails carved on his shoulders, the wetness of your core slipping back and forth on the surface of his sex.

“You are making a mess on me, you know that (Name)?” he asks, devilishly and forcefully increasing the speed of his masturbating fingers.

“I- I’m sorry- I’m-“ you stutter with your own words, knowing you are probably unable to follow any orders from here.

Reno scoffs, sexily, knowing you are probably on the verge of climax; ready to burst.

He gives you a soft spank, making you whine. He gives you yet another one, it doesn’t really hurt. It feels exactly like a delicious spicy sensation on your skin.

“Don’t be sorry, you’ve been doing just right. Your wetness will be very useful…” he whispers, with his lips pressed against yours and pinning your arms right in the small of your back.

“Now, stand up just a little…”

You give thanks to your training on the JKDF, as you are able to lift your hips up even with your arms being held. Your sex, dripping with your own juices and his mixed up, awaits for that tempting hardness to be finally inside.

And it does, with Reno’s free hand guiding just enough for his tip to align with your entrance.

“Sit” “Yes, Reno-sama”

Little to no words were needed, as you flop down, allowing his sex to impale you to the point of feeling it as deep as possible.

His hips finally start moving up and down, you don’t even need to do it yourself. However, your body locks in, and synchronizes with his thrusts. Being the motions that intense, that your old sofa makes noises you’d never listen to.

His chin pressed against the middle of your chest, allowing your breasts to surround his innocent -only on the outside- façade. He is in heaven, and you are probably brought to the very pit of hell for such an impure lust.

Climax is right there for the both of you; you contort on top of him, you have lost track of your movements. Reno, however, who knows he is about to burst is ready to let you come first.

And so, never forgetting his role in this dominant submissive play, he just unpins your arms allowing them to be finally resting on top of his shoulders.

“You may come for me, (Name)” he commands, -as if it was necessary-. “Ye- yes, thank you, Reno-sama…” you moan. A moan that gets stollen by Reno’s lips. He inhales your whines, like sacred air to be breathe.

Bodies so close, about to melt into each other. Kissing so passionately, reaching to the max so deliciously.

Thank you for this night off, captain Mina…

[the-modern-typewriter]

Peace, Love and...

The ropes were numerous, and painstakingly knotted to form an intricate spiderweb which stretched between two pillars on the left hand side of the room.

Cai hung in the web’s centre.

The golden thread wound around what felt like every inch of his body, pinning his arms and legs spread-eagled, curling firmly around his torso to hold him as secure and as thoroughly stuck as any good spider’s prey. His toes touched the floor only precariously to help hold him steady.

Every tug, every waver, every twitch of movement caused the small silver bells hooked to the web to chime softly.

The trick was to be as still, as quiet, as possible.

Nonetheless.

The bells chimed.

It had been less than five minutes.

Adam lounged on the sofa not far away, a whip dangling insouciantly from one hand, a book in the other. He was the picture of idle, entirely too lovely, cruelty – something that the Greek’s would have carved and marvelled at.

At the chime, his attention cut up, and his hand lashed out with wicked speed and wickeder precision.

Cai bit down hard on his lip, jolting on instinct at the hot sting of pain on his thigh. The bells chimed again.

Adam grinned, feral. His fingertips caressed the whip’s handle in a way that he had many times caressed the curve of Cai’s skin, his cheek, the bow of his lip. His gaze roamed over Cai like he was considering the next place to strike, in retaliation of that sound.  

“That’s not fair,” Cai gasped. “You have to let me adjust. Nobody holds still when they’re hit!”

“I’m sorry,” Adam replied, “at which point did I promise you fairness? Love, most certainly, war – of a sort, perhaps. But fairness?”

He landed another blow, a third, and then seemed to take pity.

“Fairness,” Adam settled back down, “was never especially on the agenda. Stillness is. You’re the one who wanted to work on being mindful, I am merely supporting you in your goals like a dutiful husband.”

“I suggested we try meditation!”

“My voice is music. I am your guide.”

Adam’s voice had turned dry at the words, and Cai just managed to catch himself before he snorted with laughter. Laughter really wouldn’t help his predicament. He watched the way that Adam’s fingers moved over the whip handle again, quite happily awaiting any opportunity, guessing at that laughter. His stare was fixed on Cai, intent, nowhere near as careless as his posture.

The urge to laugh faded out. He just as quickly wanted to shiver, with a pleased sort of anticipation. He knew that stare.

Cai swallowed. He stilled himself once more, and thought that Adam might have a point. Not about his voice being music, exactly, however partial Cai was to the cadences of his husband’s tone, but…  

“I think I have an idea,” Adam said, with a tone of relenting somewhat, or at least of shifting gears. “Hold still now.” He discarded the book and got up from his seat, crossing the room and returning with a blindfold. He placed it over Cai’s eyes, knotting it tight with deft movements. “There. No distractions.” Adam’s lips were hot, and very distracting, by his ear. “Say thank you.”

“Are you actually planning to top me into meditation?”

“Meditation is just subspace for vanilla people. Hush, that’s an order. Bratting does not equal mindfulness, it makes you too busy thinking how you can beat me. You can’t.”

Cai’s mouth snapped shut.  

Adam didn’t take that particular tone with him very often, but when he did…there really was something about that voice.

“Good,” Adam murmured. “Now…” he heard Adam’s footsteps move back to the sofa. “Listen.”

Cai had lost count of the number of times, of ways, that Adam had tied him up. Sometimes, it was because Cai wanted to feel restrained, other times because Adam wanted the feeling of having someone at his mercy. It was always because of the aesthetic, and, today, it was supposedly because of the calm.

Supposedly.

The act of being bound was calming, the act of being whipped was not. But wasn’t that Adam all over? He had a weakness for irony, the juxtaposition of contrasting elements, for the artistry of it all. It was one of the many things that Cai loved about him; he always managed to do the unexpected in some small way, even after all of their years together.

“Focus on the feeling of the rope,” Adam said, as steady as metronome, low and impossible to ignore. “On your breath, on holding still for me. That’s all I expect from you. Art is seen and not heard.”

Cai focused on the feeling of the rope, on his breath, on the effort it took to hold himself still. The muscles in his calves burned. It was, in its way, actually quite meditative.

The ropes today had been picked because they were silken; strong, but soft upon Cai’s skin. They were easy to focus on.

The point of the calming kind of meditation, at least from Cai’s reading, was to focus one’s body on specific sounds, or objects, or sensations, in order to cultivate a peaceful mind and an enhanced state of concentration. That was what he’d told Adam. Apparently, between his eye rolls, Adam had payed attention.

“You are not going anywhere,” Adam said. “You are safe, I’ve got you.”

There was simply the rope, the chimes, the whip. 

And, as always, there was him.

***

“Cai.”

Adam’s fingers were careful brushing his face, undoing the blindfold, letting the light of the world with all of its distractions seep back in.

“Cai.”

Cai opened his eyes, a little dazed, and certainly peaceful. He had lost track of time or at least stopped counting it. It had taken him a while to figure out how to hold still, to let go of the restless needs of the day and life, but once he was tied up there wasn’t really much a guy could do. Just like Adam said. Listening to his voice, his breath, it had been easy.

Adam stood in front of him, and Cai wasn’t entirely sure when he’d moved. His expression was one of a fond sort of amusement. “Are you still with me?” Adam asked. “Or have you found yogic bliss?”

Cai nodded.

“Oh, so yogic bliss?”

“You’re hilarious,” Cai said, without bite. “I’m with you. Always am.”

“Good,” Adam said, still watching him. A softer smile had crossed his lips. “You went very quiet. Very still.”

“Wasn’t that the point?”

“I didn’t expect it to be that effective - I was planning to torment you mercilessly. It would have been very cathartic.”

Cai simply gave a peaceful sort of hum and Adam laughed, quietly, shaking his head. He’d abandoned the whip, and his seeming initial plans, on the sofa. He reached up to check the ropes around Cai’s hands, going through the practiced motions of making sure Cai still had all the right circulation in his fingers.

“Are you ready to come down?” he asked.

Cai shook his head.

Adam laughed again.

“I suppose I could keep you up there like an exhibition piece.” He stroked his fingers down along Cai’s chest. “You’re rather calming to look at like this. Can’t get into any trouble.”

“I am the height of zen, I never get myself in trouble.”

“Uh-huh. I’m taking you down now. Come here.”

Soon enough, Cai’s feet were firmly planted on the floor once more, and Adam’s arm was wrapped firmly around his torso to hold him secure. The rest of the ropes fell away. Cai led him over to the sofa and they sprawled there for a while.

“So,” Cai said eventually. “If I suggest that we try couple’s yoga…?”

Adam’s fingers wound in his hair, tugging his head back to contort his spine, and kissed Cai’s cheek.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something much more fun.”

It was, to neither of their surprise, much more entertaining.

[kissforyouu]

𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙶𝙰𝙽 . 𝚓𝚓𝚔

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : college boy!jungkook , fwb , so much fluff , situationship , confusing relationship

warning : angst , strong language , smoking , masturbation , use of weed and drugs , getting high , lots of kisses🤭 , oral sex ( f recieving ) , doggy , unprotected sex , situationships. (trigger warning😓)

Inspired by Cardigan - Taylor Swift

unedited.

> read pt. 1 here

It's been about three weeks since Jungkook had left my door. I try, but I still can't make up my mind with the fact that it's all over. It's even harder, because Jungkook was always apart of my daily routine. We'd go get our groceries together, drop eachother by our respective classes, study together, hangout and so much more. It's not just the fucking, or the kissing, he was also my best friend. Losing my bestfriend was even worse. Sometimes I'd wonder how it would've been if we never had sex. Would we still be friends? Best friends? Would it have been better? It would have been better, I think. Maybe. Or maybe not. I don't fucking know.

Or maybe we'd just be strangers and I would've never gotten to experience this love from him? Or maybe—it wasn't even love. Well, obviously, it wasn't. He made it clear. Very clear.

Although it's been a week, Jungkook has never tried to contact me. It hurts, but whatever. Clearly he's enjoying his time though, judging by his instagram stories. Party after party. I always see him either drinking or going out with his friends on social media. Okay. I might be stalking him on social media. But hey, it's not exactly stalking when the information is public and accessible to anyone, right? So, I'm not stalking. I'm only making use of my rights as someone using social media.

It's whatever. Jungkook's whatever. I'll move on. Of course, I will. It's nothing a bit of journaling and music can't fix, right? Yeah.

I hum to my music, continuing to write on my journal. This was my way of letting all my feelings out. I'd journal, write and doodle about it. It was calm, and it also helped me open up and learn more about myself. I liked it.

I continued to write...

I still want him. I want him so so much. I really hate to admit that, but I do. I don't know what's gotten over me. I have to make up my mind, I really really do. Jungkook proved to me that I was nothing but some fuck, but why can't I think the same? It's slowly driving me insane. In addition to that, I really really really really fucking hate the fact that I'd go back to him in a heartbeat if I could.

I let out a sigh, closing the journal. This is what I've been doing for the past three weeks. It's stupid, really, we weren't even fucking dating! I keep thinking about that, and it's driving me crazy. Whatever. I placed my journal and headphones back on my table, then getting back on my bed. Covering myself with my soft pink sheets, I made myself comfortable enough to fall asleep.

I hated this so much.

Everywhere I looked, it always reminded me of Jungkook. I hated how every corner of my room had some sort of memory attached to him. Whether it was just him holding one of my belongings, standing in a specific area, or him just doing something—it always reminded me of him.

The worst was my bed. Everytime I got on it, I just couldn't help but think of all the things we did on it. I couldn't help but think of the places his hands touched me, the feeling of his lips on my skin, or the feeling of his cock going in and out of me. I hated this because sometimes—sometimes! Just sometimes I'd feel myself getting hot down there.

I hate to admit this but—

"Mm..." a whimper leaves my mouth at the feeling of my fingers pressing onto my clothed clit. All that thinking got me wet. I slowly drag my fingers up and down, caressing my folds. I imagine it's his fingers, Jungkook's, teasing my folds slowly.

What would he do right now? He'd subtly touch me everywhere to get me soaking wet.

My other hand reaches down to my left breast, rubbing my nipple through the material. A few seconds later, the material of my top was now discarded on the bed. I continue to rub my nipple slowly, just the way he would. My other hand was caressing my thighs slowly, letting my fingertips subtly touch the surface of my skin. I gather a good amount of spit in my mouth, then bringing my fingers to my lips, then my nipples. I spread the liquid all around my nipple, flicking it too.

A heavy breath is heard, my fingers creeping inside my panties this time. It was a new sensation. I never masturbated. I didn't need to. I had Jungkook.

A small whimper echoes within my mouth as my fingers come in contact with my folds, spreading the arousal around. Shit, I was so wet. Not as much I was whenever I was around him though. I gather some of the arousal, rubbing my clit with it next. I moan, continuing to rub myself. It felt awfully good. I imagine it's him. His fingers teasing and rubbing my clit while his face was squished in between my tits. That's how it'd usually go.

An embarrassingly whiny moan slips past my mouth at my thoughts, fuck I want him so bad. I continue to rub myself faster, my back now arched a little. I rub my bud in the motion of an 8, hoping for a release. It feels good, but not that good.

I then run my middle and ring fingers up and down my folds. I imagine it's his tongue, sliding up and down on me as he savours the taste. "So good..." I hum. I retreat my fingers back to my clit, rubbing it again. About a minute later of continuous rubbing, heavy breaths and small whines, I slowly feel my high approaching. I squeeze my eyes shut, imagining it's him, as my body shudders.

I don't rub myself further, stopping myself right there. I was now sensitive down there. I didn't cum. Fuck, this is annoying.

Groaning, my body sits back up on the bed. I put back all my clothes on, pee and get right back to bed. This was unsuccessful and very annoying. Embarrassing, too. What have I done? Fuck, really, Y/n? Over Jungkook. Yes, Over Jungkook.

Okay, just sleep it off. I tell myself, trying to convince myself that what I had done just now was totally not embarrassing.

I groan at the sound of my annoying alarm beeping on my nightstand. "Fuck you", I turn the alarm off, groaning once more as I roll off the bed. I grab my phone, my eyes still blurry, and then— FUCK. IT WAS 12PM. MY CLASSES START AT 11AM. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. I rise up from the bed, running to my bathroom. I have to make this very quick. I grab the toothbrush and get in the shower, washing my body while brushing my teeth. 5 minutes later, I run out of the bathroom to open my closet. I throw a pair of jeans and a hoodie before quickly putting them. I don't bother to style my hair or to eat, I just grab my bag and laptop before running out of my dorm. Mina, my roommate, didn't even wake me up. Where even is she? I didn't see her coming back home yesterday? Whatever.

I speed walk to my class that's already started one hour ago. Shit, hopefully the teacher doesn't give me a bad grade or note this down. I had a record of being one of the top 10 students in each class I took. I wouldn't want to drop it because of something so careless and small.

I hesitantly walk inside the door, my foot taking small nervous steps. The teacher looks at me, her eyebrow raising up to a confused look on her face. "Y/n, you're late" She taps her pointer finger on her chin repeatedly.

Bringing my lip in between my teeth, I nod my head in return. "Uh, I'm so sorry, Ms. Kim"

"Any particular reason you got late, Y/n?" She asks.

Oh yeah, I miss my ex - ex best friend - ex talking stage - ex fuck buddy— or whatever, and then I rubbed one out for him and passed out on the bed right after.

"Um, just overslept"

"Ah, pity. As a punishment, stay after class and help out the librarian please. New stack of books incoming!"

I press my lips into a thin line, nodding. It's not like I have another choice.

"Yes, madam."

She giggles in return, then directs me to my seat.

Another hour has passed, the bell has rung. After class. A groan echoes out of me as I rise up from my seat, clutching onto my bag. My friend looks at me, then giggles before patting my shoulder twice in hopes of comforting me a little. She leaves the room.

"Y/n, I hope I see you tomorrow on time. You're a good student, don't lose that reputation." Ms. Kim flashes a bland smile as she exits the classroom. Shrugging, I walk out of the classroom as well, heading to the library.

"Hi, Ms. Kent! I wave at the librarian.

"Y/n, isn't it? Ms. Kim informed me about you." She responds as she adjusts her glasses.

I nod my head back at her, my hands holding on to eachother at the back.

"Great! You can help me by taking out that stack of books and putting them inside this box" She hands me a big cardboard box.

I take it as I walk to the book shelf she pointed at. I turn around to look at the librarian, desperately hoping that she'd come help me out. But no, nevemind. She was on her chair, legs resting on top of her table as she took a nap. Okay, fine, take your rest. She probably deserves it, anyway.

I turn back, my hands now on my hips. "Good luck, y/n" my eyes scan the big shelf.

I start by taking out the books at the lowest layer, then gradually making my way to the top. "Hmm..." I hum, looking around the library for a tool. In order to reach the top, I needed something to get on. As I scan the room, my eyes land on the small tool in a corner. "Ah!"

Getting on the stool, my spread out my arms in order to balance myself. I grab a few books, then slowly lowering myself down to the box to drop the books. It's a bit of a risky task. I could break a limb. "Good", words of relief leave my mouth. I repeat the process, slowly and watching each of my steps.

I bend down to drop another book then lift myself back up, my feet doing a 60° degree again to align myself perfectly in front of the shelf. I grab one of the last few books on the shelf, turning around to drop it into the box. Uh, oh. There we go. I fall to the ground with a yelp. I lost my balance. Groaning, I close my eyes. Maybe I'll just lay here for a few minutes till the pain goes away. It really hurts though, I rub my hip and waist area. I'll apply some balm when I get back to my dorm.

"Y/n?"

I want to drown myself in a river.

I know that voice better than anyone else's. What the fuck is he doing here.

In the other hand, it felt really nice hearing my name coming out of his mouth. I missed his voice.

I gulp at the feeling of two fingers patting my shoulder. I don't want to open my eyes because I know I'll come eye to eye with the person I seriously do not wanting to be talking to right now. But I do it anyway.

"Y-you good?" He stutters.

I nod, slowly raising myself up. I flinch, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain on my lower back. My hand grips onto the closest shelf as I slowly lift myself back up on my feet. Jungkook offers me his hand for support, but I deny it. I just want to walk away.

"Y/n—

I walk past him with the now full cardboard box, ignoring the stabbing pain I'm feeling. Lifting this is so hard, fuck, especially with my now broken back. Broken is probably an exaggeration, but whatever.

I place the box in the small room right next to the library that's filled with stacks of books and other material. I'm done!

I go back inside the library to grab my bag and other items. As I put my pair of glasses inside the bag, I feel the soft honey-like voice from before say my name again.

"Y/n" I'm done.

Ignoring him would be too immature and would cause even more problems. So it's better to say something, right? Totally not because I want to talk with him, maybe, kind of.

"Jungkook." I gulp.

"Let me talk to you." Oh.

"About?"

"Us" Oh.

"There's nothing to talk about us, Jungkook."

"Yes, there is."

"No, there isn't. You made it clear."

"Jesus, Y/n. Can we move on from that, please?"

I scoff. "Fuck, no."

His hand immediately catches my wrist just when I try to walk away.

"Please, let me make it up to you—

"Jungkook. No."

I make it very clear to him that I don't want anything with him anymore. Maybe I do. But maybe I'm scared to get hurt again. Doesn't matter.

I pull my wrist away from his grip. I don't look back but walk straight out of the library.

If you wanted to talk to me and make things right, you should've done it two weeks ago.

Stepping into the safe space of my dorm, I sigh, plopping myself on the bean bag. My fingers go through my hair, softly caressing it and massaging my scalp. Shamelessly, my mind drifts away to the moment where Jungkook's fingers were tangled in betweens my locks, massaging my scalp and stroking my head. Or the times where he would fist my hair, using it to guide my head up and down while I choked on his dick. Unconsciously, my thighs rub against eachother just a little to bring me back to my senses. I look around my room, cheeks flushed and embarrassed. I can't be doing this again, god no.

Deciding to make myself a cup of ramen, I make my way to my little kitchen. I add boiling water to the cup, waiting for the noodles to be ready. Now back on my sofa with my noodles, I was so so ready to dig those chopsticks in and take a bite on my noodles. But my phone suddenly dings, the screen showing a message. It was Jungkook. What, Jungkook? Why's he messaging me? Oh fuck, was it about early? I gulp, reaching down to the coffee table to grab my phone.

jungoogie💌: haiiiii😆😁😁

jungoogie💌: Y/NNNNN!!!! ansehwr mem

My eyebrow slightly raises at the texts, noticing how messy and chaotic they were. Is he was drunk? I began typing my reply.

No, what.

I immediately press the call option then and there after reading the message of him saying he was going to take another gummy. What was wrong with him?

The call answered fast, the first thing I hear being him giggling.

"Y/nnnn?"

My name is heard in a slurred speech, a set of small giggles being heard once again after.

"Jungkook? Where are you?"

He hums into the phone, then small wet kissy noises being heard after. Is he kissing his phone?

"Miss you...so much..."

My heart warms up at his words. I know I shouldn't let it affect me, but I felt the same. It's been weeks since I had last seen Jungkook, and I've wanted nothing more than to be in his arms and hold. I clear my voice a bit before speaking again.

"I miss you too. Can you tell me where you are, please?"

I need to make sure where he is. Back before I met him, he used to go around the street and get high for fun with Yugyeom. I stopped him later on. But he's back at it again, I guess.

"You do?!" His voice suddenly escalates from tired and slurred to hype pitched and excited. He is being so adorable right now.

"Baby, I...miss you too!" Jungkook groans, then a small thud is heard. I hear Jungkook sigh, sounding very relaxed and calm.

"Mm, are you in your dorm?"

Jungkook hums in confirmation. And just at that, I get up from my bed before walking out the door. I cannot let him get even more high. Even more so, who knows what else he'll do in there.

"Jungkook, keep talking"

"Can I sing?"

"Yeah"

"Vintage tee, brand new phone, high heels on..."

He knew I liked that song. He's doing this on purpose. As he continues to serenade me, I slowly make my way upto his dorm. We weren't allowed to be here. One of the rules in our university was that no one of the opposite gender should be seen at another's dorm. That's a rule me and Jungkook had broken way before. He was always there in my dorm. I'm surprised he was never caught.

Too lost in Jungkook's voice, I forget that I was already near his dorm. Snapping back to reality, I hesitantly ask Jungkook to stop singing.

"Kook, open your door. I'm there."

I'm sure of this, right? Yeah, yeah I am.

"Oh?" His singing stops, his voice switching to a more confused tone. Next, I hear small sounds, then thuds on the floor as they got closer and closer.

The door shoots open in a hurried manner, his eyes falling onto mine. But his eyes are not the thing I'm looking at, it's the weed roll in his hand. I look back at him, my eyebrows now furrowed.

"Baby—"

"When did you start smoking again?" I cross my arms against my chest.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, bringing the blunt upto his mouth to inhale some.

"A few days after we stopped talking" He admits. He looks guilty, but I try to ignore it. I was still mad at him. For everything. In addition, about this too.

Jungkook angles his body to the side, making space for me to walk in. I walk past his body towards his room.

Once I enter, I let out a small gasp at the state of his room. It was so fucking messy. Clothes here and there on the floor, his books scattered across his table alongside empty cans of frizzy drinks and empty ramen cups, bed fully messy and sheets on the floor included.

"What the fuck happened here?" I ask, concern flowing through me.

I feel his hand snake around my waist, cold fingertips giving me chills as they traced my belly. My body instinctively leans back into his, my back pressed against his chest. Jungkook's sighs into my neck, the tip of his nose caressing my collarbones.

"Missed you..." He was holding me so tight that I almost couldn't breathe. He was holding me so tight as if it's the last time he'll ever be able to do so.

I don't say anything else while I lead the both of us to the top of his bed. Jungkook doesn't allow me to move much, caging me in between his body and the bed right away. I lay flat as his body settles in between my legs. I run my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

Jungkook takes one look at me, then another inhale from his weed roll. I forget he even had it.

He blows the smoke away, eyes still on mine, staring into the deep the corners of my eyes. Suddenly, I start coughing, my hand on my chest as I tried to calm down my breathing. The smoke was making me cough.

Jungkook sits on the bed, alerted as he starts to mutter sorrys over and over.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry, baby"

His hand rubs up and down my back in a soothing manner in an attempt to calm me down. It works, of course. My breathing slows down to my normal pace. Jungkook looks at his blunt, getting up from the bed before taking one last inhale then throwing it in the bin.

He groans, now inside his bathroom. I hear the sound of the water running down.

The light is turned off again as Jungkook exits the bathroom. He looks at me sitting on his bed. This time he notices the outline of my breasts, clearly visible from the thin material of the shirt I was wearing. His eyes trail down my body, from the outline of my breasts to my nipples, then my waist.

"No bra?" Jungkook breaks the silence.

I shook my head, pushing my shoulders back so I could lean against the headboard. And also that my tits were even more visible to him, but I don't want to admit to it. I watch Jungkook's eyes shift from my face to my tits. He walks towards the bed and gets on it.

Sitting on the bed right in front of me, Jungkook sighs, gripping onto my thigh before pulling me towards him so that I'm laying flat on the bed.

We lock our eyes together, our breathing suddenly syncing in as Jungkook hooks onto the edge of my shirt. He looks at me, for approval.

Fuck, how could I not? I've been wanting to feel him so bad.

I nod, gulping.

He raises the shirt upwards, exposing my tummy. Jungkook leans down to place a few kisses all over it. He continues to kiss my tummy in circles, causing me to let out a few giggles at the ticklish feeling here and there. And each time I did, he would raise up his head to look at me, his eyes big and sparkling.

Jungkook moves the shirt more upwards, my tits now out and bare as the end of the shirt laid right over them.

His hands immediately fly to cup my breasts, holding them. He sighs.

"So warm..."

Jungkook crawls further, so that his head is laying on my breasts. He nuzzles himself deeper, cheek pressed against my chest and hands groping my breasts. I watch him attentively, finding this moment comforting.

He slowly turns around to look at me, and this time, I notice how his eyes are half lidded, reddish with veins visible. It's from all that weed and gummies. Jungkook says nothing though, he just looks at me in awe, but also guilt.

I glide my thumb over his cheekbone, stroking it. Jungkook leans in to my touch, then colliding his lips and my palm, small smooch noises being heard after.

This is nice. I want to have this everyday.

He proceeds kiss my fingers, trailing them up wrists to my arms, then collarbone, my throat and upto my face. I close my eyes, focusing on the feeling of his soft thin lips on me and the small smooch sounds they create. Right then, he kisses both of my closed eyelids, then nose, cheeks, chin. The only area left were my lips. My eyes open to look at him.

His breath was fanning against my lips. We were inches away from kissing.

Jungkook cracks up a small giggle,

"I think you sobered me up a little."

He pulls away to sit up on the bed again.

No, kiss me. I want you to kiss me.

I clutch onto his shirt, pulling him back to me. Jungkook was surprised, his hand gripping onto my arm for support. I lean in to peck his lips once. I pull away, my lashes batting as I stare at him.

Jungkook looked shocked. He shouldn't be, I just let him kiss me all over. His expressions change, turning into a more soft and relaxed look on his face. His big eyes stare back at me as he leans in, going for another kiss.

The kiss feels passionate, deep and so — real. It feel real.

Jungkook's eyebrows furrow, head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss more. Our lips move against eachother so perfectly. The kiss wasn't rough, neither was is soft. It was perfect, filled with longing and love.

He settles his legs down next to my thighs, caging my body. I grab his hand, holding it with both my hands to my heart. I'm sure he could feel how fast my heart was beating. He whimpers, sending vibrations through my mouth. The kiss was getting sloppy and air was running out. But we continued kissing. I missed his lips so much. His soft lips against mine, moving in a synchronised rhythm. Even our breathing was synchronised.

After one final smooch, I pull away with a gasp in a serious need of air. My head arches onto the pillow, hair messy and arm thrown over my head as I catched breath.

I lower my eyes down to look at Jungkook, who was looking at me as if I was the only thing that mattered to him. If I could, I'd hit replay and live this moment over and over again.

He cups my face, squishing my cheeks while he left small pecks all over my upper and lower lip. My lips turn into an uncontrollable smile, so big and bright. He continued to peck my lips, teeth even, then my cheeks.

I don't know what is making him do this, is it the weed and gummies he took earlier or is it actually him.

"Mmmm..." I whine once he pulls away.

There is so much tension in the room right now. But nothing sexual, I don't want to fuck him right now. Maybe later. But not now.

Everything we did right now obviously meant we had to talk about it later. Especially about Jungkook's behaviour. The drugs, the weed, the messy room, calling me. Everything. Would I go back to him after this? Yeah.

There is an awkward silence again, and Jungkook looks like he wants to say something so bad. I can say that because he keep tugging onto his lower lip with his teeth, nibbling on it constantly. For a moment, he opens his mouth, ready to say something but closes it again. My eyebrow raises. Patting Jungkook's cheek,

"Say it." I tell him.

"I love you."

Jungkook whispers, audible enough for me to hear. Audible enough to send me into euphoria. Audible enough to make me fucking forget everything for a moment.

I don't say anything back for a few seconds. Jungkook looks relaxed and relieved, maybe glad that he finally said it. Before I could say anything back, he covers my mouth with his hand.

"Don't say anything, please. I don't want to hear it yet. Let's just go to sleep and talk in the morning."

Jungkook lays down on the bed right next to me, his arm wrapping around my waist. His big eyes sparkle, looking directly into mine.

I don't say anything back just like he wants, but I wrap my arms around his torso, pulling him closer to me. I don't know whether it was the weather or something else, but Jungkook felt so warm. The atmosphere around us as well. Everything felt warm and comfortable. Nuzzling my face further into his chest, I hum, comfortable as fuck. My heart skips a beat once I feel his fingers on my head. He run them through my hair, massaging my scalp and patting my head. Fuck, I missed this so much.

I soothe into his touch, my body weight now entirely on him. As my eyes get even more drowsy, I let myself fall asleep in his embrace.

Before even realising, the morning had come already. What did make us realise that was Jungkook's alarm going off.

Jungkook groans, rolling over to the other side to turn his alarm off. When he turns around, he finds my back facing him fully. I had shifted while sleeping. Jungkook giggles, his arm pulling me back to him as my back collides with his hard chest. He thinks of going back to sleep again, but too late, the alarm had already woken me up. Just when Jungkook presses his head onto my shoulder, I pull his hair away so that his head is back on the pillow.

"I'm awake"

"Don't care" Jungkook murmers.

"Jungkook"

"Fucking hell..." He groans.

He rubs his eyes open. Jungkook yawns again, then going back to lay his head on my back.

"My head hurts" he sighs.

"Probably because of the things you did last night. Maybe I could give you a massage?"

Jungkook's eyes lit up at the suggestion. Eagerly, he nods his head already sitting up on the bed.

"Take your shirt off and lay on your stomach"

Jungkook can't help but crack up a small laugh at my comment while I tilt my head to the side, clearly confused.

"What?"

"Nothing" He grins.

"No, say it"

—"Say it." - "I love you" —

"It's just that it's usually me who says it you know, cause, when we have sex..." he giggles again.

I look at him, grinning back. Grabbing the pillow, I hit his back with it. Jungkook pokes his tongue, looking at the outline of my nipples through my shirt when I stretch my arms up to hit him. He snorts at the hit, then taking his shirt off before throwing it on the ground.

I get on top of his back once he lays down.

I take my time to admire his naked back, sculptured to perfect. It was so perfect and built. You could tell that he worked out just by the side of his back.

I begin with his shoulders, gently massaging them to ease the tension out. He hums as I continue massage his shoulders now increasing the pressure. I move down to his arms, squeezing them and sort of punching them to relax them. Jungkook's eyebrows raise up,eyes closed as he nods his head in approval. I then press onto his bones, circling them from time to time as I switch in between squeezing his muscles to massaging his bones.

I loved the feel of his muscles. Touching them felt so nice. I loved it when I felt him relax at the pleasure of my hands massaging him. I take a moment to admire his back again, running my hand up and down his back. Unknowingly, my nails begin to scratch his back. He lets out a long moan at the soothing feeling.

I giggle, leaning down to press a small kiss behind his neck. I get no reaction back from him, so I continue to trail kisses down his back. Jungkook shifts a little in his position, groaning a little.

"Jungkook, turn around" I whisper.

I get off of him for a brief moment so that Jungkook could lay on his back before getting back on top of him again. Now that my clothed pussy was pressed onto his growing buldge, I grip onto his shoulders to massage him more. He moans at the feeling, head thrown back.

"Here, baby?"

His eyebrow is raised because of the tone of my voice—flirty— and the nickname I used on him. I never called him baby. Ever.

"What's up with you?" He asks.

I immediately give in not being to control myself more, I dive in for a kiss. Jungkook understands how I'm feeling, smirking into the kiss while his hands sneakily slide up my legs and inside my shorts. He palms my ass cheeks, rubbing his palm over them. My arms lay on around his head, caging it, as both our mouths working on eachother's. My tongue licks his lower lip, a smile forming on my lips slowly. I feel his hands leave the inside of my shorts to slap both my cheeks, a cocky laugh coming from him next. Jungkook then hooks onto the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down upto my ankles. My ass was now bare and out.

I go back in for a kiss, arching my back as well. I whimper into the kiss once Jungkook sneaks his way into my mouth with his tongue, at the same time — his fingers touching my pussy. I could imagine his smirk right now. Fuck. I feel the tip of his fingers teasingly tracing along my folds teasingly. To spite me up even more, he inserts the very tip of his fingers in, but nothing more. I grunt, trying to grind myself back on his fingers. I was begging for some friction. Jungkook's fingers leave my pussy, only to be back with a small slap on it.

I groan into his mouth, letting him take over me with his godly tongue. His middle finger touches my bud, pressing onto it while my pussy clenches on absolutely nothing. It was so fucking embarrassing but I was dripping wet for him.

Jungkook pulls out of the kiss, now beginning to trail kisses all over my neck. He starts with the side of my neck, then down to my collarbone and back up on my neck again. He nibbles on a spot near my throat, biting it here and there to create a hickey. Jungkook licks over the small purple bruise forming, to then kiss it over and over again. He begins to repeat the process all over on several areas on my neck and collarbones. Meanwhile, I melt onto his touches, just letting him continue kissing and biting me all over. But while being too caught on the moment, I feel his fingers begin to slowly rub my bud. A long moan leaves me as my back arches even more. I'm pretty sure I looked like a fucking cat who was stretching.

"Turn around. Want this pretty pussy on my face" He pats my bud.

Shit, I was so turned on.

Immediately, I turn around, my ass now in front of Jungkook's face. I feel his hands on my cheeks, squeezing them and feeling them all over as he slaps it a few times.

"Sit on my face"

I felt myself clench around nothing.

I turn my upper body around to make sure I won't hurt him, I slowly lift my thighs up to sit on his face. I wasn't exactly putting my whole body weight onto him, more like hovering over him.

"Sit" He commands.

"No, you'll be crushed and my thighs are too big. This is good enough"

I hear him sigh. Next thing I know I feel his hands on my thighs, bringing me down so that my ass was entirely on his face and thighs around his neck and shoulder. My entire body weight was on him.

"I'm not dying, see?" He scoffs.

I whine in defeat, nodding to his words.

Jungkook begins by swiping his tongue up for a long stripe on my pussy, then going in again. He repeats the process, but much rougher, with his nose pressing onto my flesh. Meanwhile, his hands rub and squeeze my thighs, delivering a few slaps here and there. I lean forward a little balance myself out, but suddenly jolt at the feeling of his tongue entering my pussy.

"Shit!" I moan.

Gripping onto his shoulders for support, my back arched and pussy on his face. His face was smothered all over my dripping cunt.

"Baby, you're so wet. This pussy must've missed me, huh?" I feel his thumb dipping in to gather arousal. Jungkook sucks on his thumb, pulling it out again to enter two fingers in my hole at once.

"Fuck!" I wasn't even stretched out to begin with.

He kisses my clit, lips softly sucking on it while his fingers went in and out of me slowly. So slow, that it felt like he was just caressing my wet folds. His teeth gently tucks on my clit to pull on it a little, earning a long moan from me return. He sighs into my pussy, groaning right after, sending vibrations through me adding even more pleasure.

Shit, this was heaven.

He was so mindful with what he was doing. He knew where to touch me, where to kiss, how to tease me and make me like it. He knew my body so fucking well, better than I ever could.

Jungkook pulls out both of his fingers to replace them with his tongue. I feel his tongue swiping through my folds, gulping down all of my juices. His room was filled with nothing but my filthy moans and his slurping noises.

His tongue enters my gaping hole, making my eyes roll back in pleasure. Shit. He saves me no mercy, trusting his tongue in and out of my pussy. Fuck, I was so turned on. I could feel my slick dripping down to his face, smothering it all over.

Panting, I close my eyes just to open them a few seconds later, my eyes immediately landing on the fat dent in his pants. His cock was prominent and big, standing tall even in his quite tight pants. I want to have it. I look beneath me at the man who was currently eating me out like a starved man, biting my lip at the erotic sight.

I groan a little, moving my hips at the same pace as his tongue.

"Jungkook, I want you in my mouth!" I cry out.

He doesn't respond, continuing to eat me out. His finger was now pressed onto my bud, circling it. I whine, desperately wanting a response from him.

Still no response. I then grip onto his shoulders with my hands, leaning forward. I crawl my way over his body, my face right in front of his cock now. I hear Jungkook groan at the lack of my pussy on his face. I turn my upper body around to look at him, giggling at him. Sticking my tongue out playfully, I turn back around only to get dragged back to Jungkook by his arm.

My back collides with his chest, a series of giggles and laughs leaving us. I throw my head back, still laughing, as Jungkook holds both my hands tightly to my chest while not letting go.

He presses his cheek onto my neck, whispering things.

"You want me dick? Yeah, you're gonna get it"

He easily turns my body around so that I was laying on my stomach again. Jungkook now gets on the bed, on top of me as both his thighs are caging mine. He pats my ass cheeks with both his hands while I got myself back up so that my ass was displayed to him clearly with easy access (doggy style). Jungkook releases his breaths, fondling with my ass cheeks, slapping it a few times.

"I could do this all day everyday" He comments.

"Jungkook, I missed you" my voice cracks.

He scoffs. "You missed me or you missed this dick?" He slaps my cheeks again.

I whine, sighing afterwards.

"Both" Jungkook laughs, almost mockingly.

"Wonder how you got yourself off without me, hm? Did you use your hands? Were you even able to make yourself cum?"

I could feel that cocky smirk behind me.

"S-shut up, just fuck me" I could feel the heat in my cheeks growing more each second.

"Did you cum?"

"No"

Jungkook hums, fingers inching towards my pussy.

"You want me to touch you here and make you cum?" His fingers circle my wet clit.

"Mmm-hm" my voice sounds more relaxed, but desperate.

"Here? Touch you like this, baby?" He then pinches my clit and twists it, earning a whiny whimper from me. I was so fucking wet and each touch he gives me got me dripping even more. After, I feel his hand palming my pussy, juices smothering all over his hand while he rubbed my clit painfully slowly.

A long whine leaves me, back arching even more. Fuck.

"Jungkook, p—please... please"

I was a big fucking mess and Jungkook loved it so much.

"No more, please... Just fuck me, mm!"

My hair was messy and all over, head buried into the pillow while Jungkook's hand worked slowly on my pussy. He lets out a little laugh, stopping his movement on me. I don't feel his hand on me no longer, but not even a second later, I gasp at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressed onto my folds.

"Shit, Jungkook" I cuss.

"You're on birth control?"

"Mhm"

We were too fucking horny to even care at this point.

He glides the tip along my folds, coating it nicely with my slick. I hear him pumping himself a few times — not that he wasn't hard enough, fuck his cock was standing so fucking tall — but to bet my slick all over. He aligns himself with my hole once again, patting my ass afterwards.

"You ready?"

"Just put it in!"

He thrusts himself in rough, a big wet noise echoing through the room.

"Fucking hell, baby, you're dripping"

Jungkook begins from just grinding his cock into me while being inside, then gradually increasing his pace. He then stops for a moment to pull his cock out for a second to slam it back in a rough pace. He never stops, repeating the same process over. The sound of his thighs clapping into the back of my thighs echoes through his room alongside the wet mushy noises my pussy made.

"S—shit, so good, taking this cock so well, baby"

He repeatedly slaps both my ass cheeks mid process, enjoying this moment to the max. My whole upper body had collapsed to the bed already, and it was the pillow that Jungkook placed under my stomach that was holding me up.

I was this close to passing out. My mouth was open, saliva spilling to the pillow while he continues to drill into my pussy.

Jungkook leans forward to press his chest onto my back, hands enveloping my breasts to flick and pinch my nipples.

He circles his hips in circular motions, just to pull out and slam back again inside.

I was such a moaning mess.

"Mm, mm, mm! Y-you fuck me so well!" I scream out.

"Oh, baby" He groans.

I feel myself clenching around him repeatedly, about to cum.

"J–jungkook, cumming!"

His thrusts slow down a little but he picks it back up, slopping but fast as he fucks me through my high. I feel my pussy clenching around him tightly, making the man behind me cuss and moan as I finally released all over his cock. Panting, I moan into the pillow as Jungkook kept going on.

His lips leave a few kisses on my back, his thrusts getting sloppier as he went on.

He lets out a long moan, finally releasing myself in my pussy.

"Shit, shit, shit—" a series of moans and cusses leave his mouth.

We both lay there, breathing synchronised and fast. Jungkook then slowly lifts himself off of my body, slipping himself out.

"You look fucked out, baby" He laughs.

"Of course, I would be. You just fucked me rough and I'm stuffed with your cum" I respond.

He puckers his lips, leaning down to place small kisses all over my face.

"Ah, my babyyy. Tired?" I could tell he was teasing me from the little baby voice he's using on me.

I turn my head to the other side, a smile forming on my face, completely forgetting about the fact that I was filled with his cum to the brim.

I feel his hand on my head, fingers twirling my curls at the end. He then holds my chin, gently, moving my face so that I'd face him.

His nose scrunched, Jungkook smiles wide before leaning down to place a soft peck on my puckered lips.

"Cute" He mumbles, and I swear my heart just did a flip.

"Let's get you cleaned"

We both were now on his bed again, cuddled up against eachother after a nice shower together. Both our classes start around 2pm, thankfully, and it was about 9am right now so we had a plenty of time left to just be in eachother's presence. I still had so many questions to ask Jungkook regarding yesterday. But not right now, I wanted to enjoy this moment.

I was currently laying in his arms, my head resting on his hard chest and both arms securely wrapped around my body while we watched whatever show that was on the TV. From time to time, he would lean forward to press a kiss onto my body or just talk about the show we were watching.

"I honestly don't like her character. She's so...ugh" I comment on the TV show, my face scrunch up in disgust.

Jungkook just hums, hand massaging my scalp. He seemed to be out of space a little. Deep in thought. Wonder what he was thinking about. Eh, I could think of a few possibilities.

"Jungkook?" I pat his cheek.

He hums in response, glancing at me.

"You good?"

"Mm, just — ah, yesterday, you know. I'm sorry, baby"

Awwwww.

"No, it's okay. I'm sorry about earlier, though"

"Baby, there is nothing for you to be sorry for, okay? In that case, it's me who should say sorry for anything. I really did care about you right from the start it's just that...I didn't want to admit it, you know? I didn't know whether I was ready for a relationship or not. I know in that way, I was leading you on and I'm sorry for that. But I truly did enjoy and care for you from the bottom of my heart. I just kept trying to convince myself that I didn't want anything else from you..."

I listen silently. He continues...

"...And also, I'm sorry about the café. But we weren't anything to begin with. You were the only girl I talked with throughout the whole time I was sort of seeing you. But after the incident, I started to realise how much of a fucking douche I was to you. But the more realising I did, the more I realised how much I actually cared about you. And that's when I started taking all the gummies and weed again because I needed something to get my frustration off on. But I also worked hard to stop using them because of you. That's when I realised I was in love with you. I was so fucking in love with you that I started to dig up old unhealthy coping mechanisms to cope again which I stopped doing solely because you told me to do so. I felt back because I felt as if I was betraying you but I had already betrayed you so what was the point, I thought. I tried to go to parties to find girls to release my stress but non of them were you so I'd end up disgusted and leave. I'm so fucking sorry, I became a mess"

He stops talking, releasing a sigh. We stay in silence for about 10 seconds before I break it.

"Jungkook, it's alright. I'm glad you told me and everything is fine now, hm? Thank you for telling me. I understand your side and I also forgive you. I'll help you clean your room. I'll help you with everything. And I can't give you an answer for your confession right now, okay? But we can definitely go on a date" I smile, tilting my head to the side.

Jungkook squeals out of happiness, pulling me into his embrace.

"Thank you so much, baby. Take all your time and thank you so much." He responds, the shaking of his voice from earlier now nowhere to be heard.

He leans down to place a kiss on the top of my head, pulling me closer into his embrace while we continued to watch TV.

Maybe this is for the best. This feels right. And I want this. Yeah.

"I like this" I say

"I like you"

I know you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standing in my front porch light. And I knew you'd come back to me.

a/n : hii sorry this took a while to post 😭🙏🏽 i been busyyyy. thank you soo much for reading and hope you liked it :)

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 5

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 1

"You know you boys look amazing in an apron." You wolf whistled at them both. Billy acted annoyed but he secretly loved the attention. Stu shook his ass at you making you laugh. Stu offered to do the dishes but for some odd reason they both fought over who would do them. Now there they stood aprons covering thier clothes. You and Stu practically had to hold down Billy as you tied the strings around him.

"I'll fix the popcorn!" You cheered hearing a groan from both men. "We just ate please..." Stu whined holding his stomach. "You two are party poopers. Well, while you do the dishes I'm going to change into my pajamas." Both their heads snapped towards you. "And I'm locking my door." You shouted down the hall.

You weren't really sure what to wear. You didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to yourself but in a way you did. They had girlfriends you knew that. The way they looked at you however was addicting. You weren't going to sleep with them so what's the harm in looking good? A voice in your head screamed male validation but you ignored that. You pulled the silky nightgown from your closet debating on wearing it. "Too obvious." You muttered putting it back in the closet.

Leaning your head out of your room you shouted. "How cold is it supposed to get tonight?" Within seconds you hear them both answer. "Very cold, extremely cold, even freezing, it might snow." You know damn well in the air of California it wasn't going to snow. You grabbed a pair of silky shorts and pulled out the matching top. That would have to do. Once you were changed you went back to the kitchen seeing the dishes were all done. "Thank you guys."

"Thank you for dinner." Billy said honestly. "Yeah what he said." Stu was laid out on the carpet as Billy glared at him. "Anytime boys." Stu looked at your new outfit trying to figure out how you looked so hot in pajamas. "Why didn't you wear what Bil- what we got you?" He corrected himself. You plopped down on the couch next to Billy. "Because I knew if I did, you two wouldn't want to watch a movie." Stu nodded as he shrugged knowing you were right. "Who said I wanted to watch a movie now?" Billy said dangerously close to your ear. You jumped up going towards the TV. "Alright! What are we watching first?"

Christine was pretty good, not as good as Stu made it out to be though. "The coolest car ever!" Stu shouted which you quickly shushed him. "I don't live out in the country like some people, keep your voice down." Stu covered his mouth in regret. "Yeah Stu keep your voice down." Billy repeated and you slapped his chest. "Ow!" He laughed. "My turn, put on Ferris Bueller's day off." Stu groaned sliding off the couch and over to the VCR.

"You'll love it. If you liked Dazed and Confused you'll like this." Billy cocked his head. "You never told me you liked that movie?" Stu ignored his friend's eyes focusing on the tape. "I saw it once." He played it off which confused you. "Once? You said you went to see it at the movies 4 times." Stu silently begged for you to shut up. "You never told me that." Billy said once again a calmness to his voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd care." Stu bit back. "What else are you not telling me?" You realized very quickly this could get worse somehow. "God you two fight like a married couple. Just put the movie in and get up here I'm freezing."

The arguing stopped immediately. Once the movie started Stu sat at the end on the sofa leaving you in the middle. Carefully you wiggled down laying your head on Billy's lap. "This doesn't bother you does it?" His eyes glanced down and back up again just as fast. "No you're good." Stu grabbed your legs laying them on his lap. Ever so often he'd drag his hands up and down your legs mindlessly. After a while he genuinely started to like the movie. "Those two are so banging."

"That's what I was thinking." Billy responded to Stu. "You think Ferris and Cameron are a couple?" Stu made a noise shaking his head. "Did you see the way they look at each other or how no matter what bullshit Ferris drags him into he goes along with it?" The room grew silent with a unanimous acknowledgment of the current similarity. The movie continued and so did Stu's commentary. "Oh no, all three of them are fucking." You laughed and Billy took notice. "What's so funny about that?"

"Oh nothing it's just I can see it." The movie continued with Stu laughing his ass off at some parts. Billy's hand found it's way into your hair playing with what he could grab. Slowly your eyes fell shut. "She reminds me of you almost." Stu said turning to look at you. "Man she's asleep." Stu loudly announced, annoyed you both didn't finish the movie. Billy looked down watching your chest slowly go in and out. "Then why are you yelling?" Billy snapped. "Sorry." The boy mumbled. "Cut all this off while I take her upstairs."

"Why do you get to put her to bed she barley even trusts you awake?" This Billy found particularly funny. "That's rich coming from the guy that's done nothing but hit on her since you met her." Stu moved your legs standing up off the couch. "I do that with everyone it's charming." He laughed until he saw the way Billy was looking down at you. "Why do I get the feeling I'm being replaced?" Stu paced on the shag carpet. Billy sighed not wanting this shit right now. "We'll talk about this later."

"No I think we'll talk about it now. A year ago you came to me in need and I did everything I could to help. It was month after month of "I was drunk" or "I don't even remember it." I put up with it hoping once this was all said and done with, we'd run away and have our sequel. That was the plan wasn't it Billy?" You wavered in and out of consciousness barley piecing together what was being said. "She's different Stu and you know that. You feel it too. I need time to think to plan around this." He looked down at you noticing your eyes twitch. "We'll talk about this later."

Stu knew that was the end of the conversation. "Y/n..." He gingerly whispered trying to wake you up. "Mhm?" You stirred swearing they were fighting. "What's wrong?" You asked trying to look around. "Nothing's wrong we were trying to figure out if we should pause the movie or not. I'm going to take you to bed and me and Stu will head there shortly." You just rolled over burying your head against his stomach. Billy slowly moved off the couch, picking you up bridal style. Stu followed making sure Billy followed your rules.

Billy placed you softly in bed hoping to just look at you for a bit. "If it's too cold on the floor you can climb in here." You mumbled. You weren't in your right mind Billy knew that and so did Stu. That wasn't stopping them however. "Go cut the lights and everything off then bring your bag up here." Stu like the good little soldier he was, he did as told.

"Here." He handed Billy his sweat pants. "We're sleeping in our shirts." Billy said as he unbuckled his belt. "What why? We never sleep with our shirts on." Billy folded his pants sitting them on the chair in the corner. "Because if she wakes up and sees us half naked beside her she's liable to freak thinking we did something. So please, just do as as I say for once." Stu had to give Billy this one. He was the smartest piece of shit in town.

Stu was the first one in bed with you. Making you roll over and wrap your arm around him. "Billy look!" He whispered like you were a cat in a cute position. You tossed your leg over him next making it impossible for him to move. "Billy help! Her feet are fucking freezing!" He whispered once more earing a laugh from Billy. "She looks so peaceful doesn't she?" He taunted as Stu struggled against your restraints. Before getting into bed Billy cut off the light making the house seem earily dark.

Billy climbed in, his back towards you and Stu. Without warning you rolled over putting Billy in the same position Stu was. "She makes a good big spoon don't you think?" He taunted back but deep down Billy had never felt more comfortable. "Shut the fuck up." He mumbled holding your hand that rested over his waist. His thumb traced little circles on you hand. Stu scooted behind you. He snuggled up knowing damn well all three of you would wake up in a cold sweat from just being around each other all night. "Goodnight boys." Your voice was dangerously clear. Stu was already half asleep but Billy however heard you. He wasn't sure how much you knew but he'd have to quickly figure it out.

(If your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

Part 6

Taglist: @katie-tibo @danodoll21 @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607

[astonmartingf]

REAL LIFE RELATIONS — BREAKING NEWS

mick schumacher x reader x liam lawson

series summary— the world of motorsports is vast, yet it is also very limiting. like an intricate web of relationships, connections can get you everywhere, and underneath the pinnacle of motorsports are the secrets waiting to be unfolded.

OPENING — SCARY AS HELL BUT I LOVE THE THRILL OF IT

drama seems to follow you around— after a long time of hiding the paddock puts the pieces together about your true identity.

warnings: mommy and daddy issues, toxic family dynamics, there's a bit of mystery going around so there's that

masterlist ★ next

If you had to choose between going to a family dinner with your forsaken father and stepmother of the decade or jump out the window from your apartment, hop in a hot blondie's motorcycle and run away for the rest of the evening, you'd choose none and hide in your friend's apartment.

Your reason? The family dinner is a farce you didn't have time to deal with, while the motorcycle sounds promising, said hot blondie gets attached too quickly for your own liking. And you didn't like to get tied down.

Why is it that you're so bent on "running away"?

Simple.

If given the chance to annoy your deadbeat of a father and overbearing stepmother, would you do it? You would.

And that's where hot blondie comes into the equation— he's just convenient. Especially when you learned to wrap him all over your fingers. Yuki would be disappointed in you, both at the fact that he knows how much you'd rather stay up holed in his crib, and how you're manipulating hot blondie.

If you're so hell bent on not going, why not just go with hot blondie? The predicament you're in is— you're already stuck in the family dinner.

Stopping the urge to roll your eyes, you watch them make small talk about their day. Your father is watching your stepmother with honey dripping his eyes, further reminding you of the hot blondie's invitation.

A "get out of jail for free" card he says. This wasn't your personal cell, rather it felt like a personal hell. There are a hundred other things you'd rather do, in fact you'd rather babysit your step siblings and connect with them, but no— insisting that you come with them and catch up.

Catch up?

What is this dodgeball? Because that would be fairly entertaining, you chuckle imagining yourself throwing it in between them to catch. There's no need to catch up, not with the guards they hired to keep you in check.

A headache they said, you don't mind your father calling you nicknames knowing he has given up on you decades ago. If only your stepmother would stop being so relentless in building back your relationship with your father.

Some things aren't worth fixing— your relationship with him is one of them.

Your eyes wander around the restaurant, watching people come and go under the windy London weather. The glint of a familiar helmet caught the corner of your eyes.

A few feet away from the window of the restaurant, you see hot blondie's motorcycle lights blink, calling your attention, lulling you away from your meal. You'd give it to him though, his persistence beginning to change the train of thoughts in your head. Smirking to yourself, you halt in playing with your food, taking a few bites planning the next steps to your escape.

Placing your fork down, you wipe your mouth using the napkin. "Excuse me, I'll use the powder room for a moment."

Your father grunts, nodding his head towards the bathroom, you smile courteously fighting the urge to do anything that could trigger your father's outbursts.

You weren't tiptoeing around him per say, it's more that you'd rather keep him calm and at peace in public knowing very well that your next action might burst a vessel in his frontal lobe.

Reapplying your lipstick, you clean the edges adding finishing touches before making a beeline to the back door, to meet hot blondie where he'll be waiting and save her escape the jail that is disguised–

"Going somewhere?" The voice of your stepmother causes you to freeze. Shit. She's learning much more quickly than your father.

Slowly turning around you and putting another facade in front of her, as much as you tried to hate your stepmother, she cared for you if not more than your father ever did. But caring is not enough, not at least for you. It's not an excuse to let your father continue doing what he does the best.

If comparison is a thief of joy— then they're both thieving the joy out of you. Your father for his usual antics, and for your stepmother, whose presence only reminded you of what you'll never have.

Your silence throws your stepmother off, surely by now you'd have spoken a string of curses towards her. But this time you're silent, you learned the hard way.

In a series of unfortunate events the universe keeps shoving at you, you end up causing a scene in a restaurant, which ends up with you getting grounded. One that wasn't even your fault to begin with, but your father is not a man of reason, not that he was ever a man to you. All you could see was a weak man, with a bruised ego, who is a deadbeat of a father to you.

And it hurts more seeing him playing family with your stepmother and step-siblings knowing fully well you'll never get the same affection from him. He often looked at you like scum on his feet, the lowest of lows. Which is why you knew that you couldn't act in front of your stepmother like that, not when she's the only thing holding your family together— or at least she's trying.

"You don't have to say anything. I saw his motorcycle move to the back of the restaurant, is that how you've been leaving events and galas without us?"

You raise your brow at her statement, clearly avoiding conversation. One thing you like about your stepmother is her astute perception, at some point you found yourself enjoying her company more than your father's.

But she doesn't have to know that, and your stepmother knows her boundaries, if she wanted to keep this relationship civil, she'd walk away without saying a word.

"I'll talk to your father about it, you're free to go."

You turn your heels walking away from her, scoffing— she always has to be the hero, the good guy, and because she lets you leave, you owe her one.

Grabbing the helmet presented in front of you the moment you open the back door, you slide into the back of the hot blondie's motorcycle. Arms around his waist, you close your eyes, the sounds of the engine revving up accompanied by the goosebumps glittering around you as the cold London weather lingers atop your skin.

Relish in the moment, you keep your eyes closed, pressing your body closer to his for warmth, as your bodies cut through the wind. It was your escape.

He was your escape.

"Feeling better?" The blonde asks, grabbing the helmet from your hands as you settle in a park near the river. The weather is not as cold as you thought in comparison back to when you were in the motorcycle.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but-" You roll your eyes, scoffing at his words. One thing or another at least you know you don't have to hide in front of him, not that you are being truthful to him as well, but blondie doesn't need to know anything. As long as he's catching up on the important bits and pieces, there are still lines they don't cross.

Lines that you won't let him cross.

"Then don't. If I wanted to talk to him I could've chosen to stay in that damn dinner, but guess what I'm here with you aren't I? Or is this interrogation a part of the "get out of jail for free " card?"

The blonde male raises his hands in surrender, dropping his jacket on your legs before situating himself next to you.

"Don't you think it's better for you to stay in the restaurant."

Flabbergasted, you turn around raising your brows. "I mean look at you in that fancy outfit, it's probably 8 degrees out here, isn't it much warmer there? And with food, sure the company isn't as lovely as you want to be..."

Your eyes squint, watching him intently, "For someone so adamant about me leaving the restaurant you keep saying contradicting things. Is this a test? I want to be here, I think I am capable of choosing what I want to do blondie."

Shaking his head, he chuckles at the mention of the nickname you coined a few years back. "You've got to stop calling me that."

"It stuck around with you, I'll never stop calling you blondie."

A sigh escapes your lips, thinking back on your memories together. Life was easier then, young, naive, full of life, and free from the sins that follow the controversy of your family.

Not that anyone else knew, they worked hard to keep it out of the news, now they're just whispers, fragments of the reality. Even to you, it's all a mystery.

Somehow they couldn't keep you away from the paddock, despite all the talk and hearsay about what actually happened you chose to stay and that's all because of blondie.

You're a ghost from the past— each day as you live, a piece of you slowly gets taken away. Forced to hide away from the world you didn't choose to live in.

"Heavy thoughts there... come back down?" You blink, facing the blonde beside you, your stomach growling.

"Let's go eat somewhere before you drop me off."

In an instant, the blonde stands up wiping his hands clean before hoisting you up from the grass.

"You want fries?"

Your eyes dilate, nodding your head excitedly grabbing on eof the helmets, putting it on the blonde males pushing him to start the motorcycle.

"And tacos." You mumble under the helmet causing the blonde to laugh at your antics.

"And tacos, here we go."

His voice infecting yours illiciting a laugh from your lips. He has that effect on you.

Which is why you'd never let him cross that line, what you have with each other— no one can take. Not even your father.

Which is someone you'll have to deal with once you get home, hopefully stepmother dearest has done her best to placate his anger. You didn't want to deal with any more bullshit as is.

But a funny thing about being under the scrutiny of the spotlight is that no matter how hard you try and hide, someone is always lingering around, poking and prodding, waiting for you to fuck up and shit yourself.

amgf ★ superstars @woozarts @minkyungseokie @iienstein @eugene-emt-roe

[fairyofshampgyu]

Now live ! Stream: 5

Genre: smut, camboy au, college au, crack

Pairing: camboy! Beomgyu x gn reader (afab when smut)

Warnings: camboy, sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, use of fleshlight, riding, nipple play, wow they finally fuck , cuddling, reader literally being a full on simp

Synopsis: Every Thursday night at 8pm, you tune into your favourite camboy: Angel313. What you don’t know is he even goes to the same uni as you, is in the same class as you and is Choi Beomgyu, the campus fuckboy but will you keep his secret?

Word count: 2.7k

You travelled hurriedly to beomgyu’s dorm in the snowfall that seemed to progressively get worse, trying to make your way there faster so you wouldn’t have to be in it for that long.

You hated the feeling of snow all on you, clothes and body soggy and cold, it wasn’t very pleasant. Yes, snow was very pretty to look at from inside, watching as it carelessly and elegantly scattered the ground and watching the landscape being blanketed by it, making even the ugliest places look pretty, but being in snow when it fell down harshly and rapidly in excessive cold wind speeds was not pretty.

Finally, you make it into his building, climbing up all the stairs to the very top since the elevator still hadn’t been fixed yet, panting as you knocked on his door.

“Woah. What happened to you?”

“The snow. And your damned dorm being at the highest level for no reason.”

“Ah yeah we were supposed to be working on the music performance today weren’t we? Thought it would have been rain checked due to the weather. Or…should I say snow checked?” Beomgyu laughs at his own joke as you continue to stare at him unamused.

...

“Are you going to let me in?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He opens his door wide for you and you walk in, taking off your coat.

“Wow you have so much snow in your hair.” Beomgyu states, coming to softly stroke and pat your head of the little icy droplets, it takes you a back but you try your hardest to seem unaffected.

“You must be freezing! I’ll make us both hot chocolate.”

“Thanks beomgyu.”

And so, you work on your meeting together about the christmas performance. Whilst you’d gotten the music done and have had many practices now, there’s still lots to take into account and consideration such as lighting and decorations, how long everything had to be, where people will be playing, speeches, etc. You’re huddled there together for a good few hours discussing, planning and sorting things for it.

Just as your wrapping up, ready to go to your lecture together which was soon, both of you get alerted of the weather. A powerful blizzard taking place. Must stay inside. Everyone snowed in. Advised to not go out at all until it’s over which was predicted to last until the whole night. All lectures cancelled for the rest of the day.

Both of you stare up at each other, bewildered, only now hearing the wind howling and the snow hitting against the window extremely fast and powerfully. Whilst it was snowing crazy on the way to beomgyu’s place, you didn’t think or anticipate it to progress into a full blown snow storm. It’d be crazy to go out in that. But you’ve got to try and make it back home or you’re stuck.

You grab your coat and start putting it back on.

“Hey, where are you going? Are you mad? You can’t go out in that!”

“But I should probably go back home!”

“You might die bro! That’s not safe. You might die from like…hypothermia or... get blown away from the winds and then disappear and never be found!” Beomgyu dramaticises, “You should just stay at mine until it calms down.” The snow storm seems gradually get worser and even more severe as he carried on speaking, proving his point and you can hear the windows rattling from the sheer force.

You sigh, “Yeah i guess you’re right, it would be stupid to go out in that.” And he nods.

“Well, looks like we’re snowed in together. What should we do?”

You watch a lot of movies together huddled cozily on his sofa, beomgyu’s commentary making it a lot more funnier and making the incredibly awful films slightly more bearable.

“What B rated Christmas film shall we watch next?” Beomgyu asks after you’re done finishing yet another one.

“Please! No more I need to take a break it’s actually hurting my head.”

He laughs at that, eyes wrinkling cutely and smile so pretty— “What should we do instead?…Y/n? Hello?”

You don’t process what he says at first, too busy lost in your improper thoughts about your partner next to you. “Huh? Oh! Ummm we could film another one of your streams if you want. Now’s good timing since we’re here and not like we can really go anywhere.”

“Yeah that’s true, let’s do it then.” Beomgyu says slightly timidly, still shy about streaming with you.

He gets out his toys and whatnot, you setting up the camera again and you choose the new flesh light both of you had acquired recently with the money from the streams, telling him to use that today since you know it would garner a lot of reactions.

Despite beomgyu being a camboy for quite a while, he’d never actually tried a flesh light properly before and the one you guys had purchased looked a bit too real to him, looking at it already made him kinda hard and also embarrassed.

Once you guys had set up everything and gotten ready for it, you pressed the button to go live and started recording.

Beomgyu sits, legs spread out and bent level to his chest, his pretty belly button piercing in view and his legs covered with his usual pretty thigh highs, taking the fleshlight and very slowly easing it down on tip, his mouth already agape from just that.

He brings the toy down and back up on his length, slowly sucking him in each time, hips rolling languidly into it as you watched in awe, also monitoring the comments who seemed to be in the same predicament as you.

His lip is caught between his teeth, trying to silence his continuous whimpers. He looked so out of it just from fucking into silicone, it drove you mad. He made it so hard just to sit and watch and carry on filming.

Beomgyu's pace grows unsteady, cock throbbing and jerking, getting delirious with each stroke of the now sticky toy, squirming in need whilst you watched him.

He wanted to be touched so bad. He needed you to touch him. He couldn't take it, fucking himself pathetically with just a toy whilst you're right there. He wants you to fuck him. He needs it at this point.

Beomgyu looks straight at you with half lidded eyes, whining and looking at you so seductively, "Wish it was your pussy I was fucking-h-hah...ah."

You know he's just talking to the fans but you can't help imagining he was begging you instead. "Want you to fuck me. I need it please-ahh" Beomgyu hopes you'd get the hint and just come over and fuck him already, whilst also trying to be discrete about it, not wanting to give himself away too much.

You look away, going to the comments, feeling embarrassed about your thoughts and beomgyu suddenly whines incredibly loud, brows furrowing. "Please!!", looking straight into your eyes.

You can't take it anymore. You walk over to him, stilling his movements of the fleshlight and his eyes widen, stumbling over his words. He didn’t think it’d actually work. You move the fleshlight on his dick with your own hands over his, twisting it around and he gasps, looking up at you pleadingly.

“You want to get fucked?” He nods his head continuously. “But you’re a virg-”

“-Please! I want it!”

“Are you sure?” He nods again and breathes out a yes but you still search his eyes for any uncertainty.

When you don’t find any, you remove the fleshlight off him, straddling his hips, taking off your own clothes. You jerk his dick a couple times and then as gently as you can, place his dick to your entrance, slowly sinking on his tip, making his head throw back with a groan before sitting on his whole length, he lets a loud strangled moan at that, “O-oh god…”

You slowly ride him, beomgyu’s mouth in an ‘o’ shape the whole time. He’s fucked himself countless of times before and he never thought actually getting fucked would be much different or would feel that great like some people say but he can confirm that it in fact does feel that great. He didn’t think it would feel this good. He can’t stop moaning and you’re not even remotely going fast.

You can’t believe you’re actually fucking Angel. Like, you’re actually fucking him right now. It’s even better than how you imagined countless times, his reactions so fucking pretty. You used to just watch him from a small screen not knowing who he was and now you’re making him so pussy drunk, eyes rolling to the back of his head, intoxicated and so fucked out from just slowly rolling your hips on his, the first person to fuck him and make him feel like this.

You quicken your pace, hitting a bit deeper and he moans, burying his face in your neck, trembling and drooling. You can hear numerous pings going off every second from people sending in tips. You bet the viewers are going insane right now.

“Y/n, I think-I think I’m gonna cum already…” Beomgyu whimpers, eyes so glazed up, lost in the pleasure and then you feel him suddenly cum inside you with a broken mewl. “Ahh…I-I’m sorry y/n, I’m sorry…!” Beomgyu sniffles, face flushed pink, tears brimming his eyes, so embarrassed from already cumming so fast.

You keep bouncing on his spent dick, ruffling his hair, “it’s okay, baby. You’re doing so good for me. Think you can cum again?”

His eyes widening at the name and praise and you move to gently play with his nipples, body jerking up in response, someone else touching his nipples making him even more sensitive than he usually is, pretty sounds coming out of his mouth none stop as if he’s a drone, cries accelerating and elevating in pitch whilst you fucked him dumb.

“Cum, baby.” So he does again, muffling his screams by burying his face in your neck again, one of his hand coming to claw at your back, shuddering and spilling his release, cumming hard from being fucked for the first time, whole body flushed and glistening, eyes shut and eyebrows still furrowed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he pants. So, so, so fucking pretty.

You go back to get the camera, zooming in and filming a close up for the viewers of his ‘just fucked and came’ face, beomgyu still delirious and softly groaning and panting, brows still knitted even afterwards.

You check to see how much you guys made and you gasp. It was double the amount even on the days he makes the most money. It was a fuck ton of money.

You go back to beomgyu to see if he’s doing good and it seems like he’s recovering from his high. “Look how much we made.” You show him the tips and even beomgyu gasps.

Once you both had taken it in turns to shower, beomgyu lends you some of his clothes. When you’d agreed to stay at beomgyu’s place until the snow storm calmed down, you didn’t fully realise that would mean staying over night with him even though it literally said it was expected to carry on exactly the same as it was during the night.

And now here you were in his bedroom. It was quite a nice bedroom, you had been in before but you never fully took in the sight of the room, fairy lights strewn across the room, record player, his multiple guitars on one side with band posters and numerous bear plushies on his bed.

"Where are your spare pillows and blankets? I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I don’t have any spare pillows or blankets. Also I can’t just let my guest sleep on the floor!”

“Then what?”

“We’ll sleep on the bed together. It’s big enough. And you literally just fucked me so I don’t think it really matters.”

He is right about that so you both head to the bed, throwing off some of the plushies except for one which he keeps to the side and you lie down on the left whilst he lies down on the right.

“Good night y/n~”

You can feel his body presence near you. It kinda makes you feel uneasy for some reason. It’s definitely not because you find him really attractive or anything. You don’t find him attractive.

It’s extremely cold due to the blizzard, you’d think being in the bed with covers on you would keep you warm but you’re absolutely fucking freezing.

“Am I the only one completely shivering here?” Beomgyu turns to face you, also cold.

“No you’re not the only one. Do you not have the heating on or something?”

“It’s broken. They still haven’t fixed it.”

“Seriously what’s wrong with your building?”

“I have no idea…You know what this means y/n...? A grin slowly appearing on his face.

“What?”

“We have to cuddle…or we might actually die…” Beomgyu wiggles his eyebrows.

“We’re not cuddling.”

“We’re both freezing! It totally calls for it! This is literally the only one bed trope in real life.”

“You didn’t just say that…”

“We’re living our wattpad moment right now. Don’t you wanna cuddle with your love interest?” Beomgyu makes a kissy face at you and you put your hand to shield him from whatever he was doing, used to his flirty antics by now.

"You'd never be my love interest." It's not that you didn't want to but you're sure your heart would literally give out if you did.

Beomgyu gasps, "How can you say that when I'm so handsome?"

"That's a very generous word to describe yourself."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that and that the offer still stands. This is a LIFE or DEATH situation. We will freeze to death. And die. DIE. "

Well it was very cold. You sigh, "Fine. Come here."

"What? No, you come here."

"I want to be big spoon though!"

"So do I!" You narrow your eyes at him and he does the same.

"Well, we both can't obviously be the big spoon." Beomgyu gives you a deadpan look.

So you both settle for both of you coming in to hug each other, you arms around his waist, his around yours, his head resting snuggly on your shoulder with a content smile. You instantly felt warmer, beomgyu so warm and so close. You were freaking out to say the least but you tried your hardest to seem casual about it all.

“Beomgyu, how did the rumour of you being a fuckboy come about anyway?” You ask, not wanting to go to sleep just yet.

“I don’t know because I can be quite flirty. And there was also this guy that I used to be good friends with and his chick was like in love with me and one time she just randomly kissed me at a party and he got mad at me, saying I was trying to steal his girl even though I literally did nothing and he knew that but then he just started beating me up! And told everyone I was a girlfriend stealer and a fuckboy. We stopped being friends. He still carried on dating that girl, she broke up with him a few months ago though.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. It kinda sucks to be honest because people either hate me for no actual reason or people at parties just think I’m an easy fuck and only want to fuck me.” Beomgyu pouts.

“Why were you a virgin for so long?”

“Because everyone thought I was like really good at sex if I was a fuckboy so every time I was close to fucking someone I’d just get really nervous they’d think I was super amazing and I couldn’t tell them I was a virgin so I’d just back out.”

“How come you let me?”

“Because we’re close friends! And you know and I didn’t feel like that with you.”

“We’re close…?” Your eyes widen.

“What?! I’m offended you don’t think the same. We’re literally cuddling right now. And we work and hang out together all the time?!”

To be honest, you thought guys were more like acquaintances. You were just working on the performance and helping him with his business, but for him to call you a close friend made you kinda warm and fuzzy inside. You wanted to be Beomgyu’s friend. He was cool actually.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and comment !!!! if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated tysm !<3🙏💕😊 It’s discouraging when fics have such little reblogs 🤨👎Feedback is always appreciated it makes me happy :)

A/n: I love how I said idk when this chapter would be out and then ends up posting it the next day 😍😍 Also I’m sorry if this is lowkey bad I had no idea what was going on I am sorry

Taglist:

@pogigyu @denleave1088 @mashimarshmello @stellz581 @cha0thicpisces @soobsfairy444 @lcvetyvn @1ummcalhoody6 @imrllytootiredforthis @bjttersweets @aliceoracleollormusic @yongboksgf @daniarafid @nyanggk @aggiebackstage @openingssequence @qluvr @be0mflwr​ @artypjmlbss @jayoonology @dickdeprived @lilactangerine @kissmeow @katsukeis @shutupheathersorryheatherr @lcvesickgyuzz @mastergibbs93 @tae-ology @popimagines @lynanist @guavagyu @soobhns @mikeeel @multistansimp4life @goquokka @scarfac3 @disneygirl712 @roses-for-my-love @maxismp1 @peachenle @i-loved-you42 @vampcharxter @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @yuhjoeyuh @ren-junwrld @eggeutarteuu @staurdvst @tyunnie-gyuu @vivioluh @itbtoblikethatsometimes (ask to be added to taglist !!)

[joonlaksme]

Sign Here: Chapter Three

Sign Here Masterlist

Summary: All of Min Yoongi’s partners never knew what he truly wanted. Too scared to tell them to their face, he decides to just invest into a professional. He didn’t know you were exactly what he was looking for.

Pairing: Min Yoongi X Reader

-> Genre: Yoongi x Dominatrix!reader, Smut

-> Warnings for this Chapter: You with other clients, Yoongi has tattoos >_<, nipple play, pain play, spit play, throat fucking (gagging, choking, coughing), a lil bratty!Yoongi

-> Word Count: 2,700+

A/N: I’m actually proud of how this came out so I hope you enjoy!!

Chapter 3: Act One

Yoongi isn't sure what to do right now.

He's sitting on the couch in the living room of one of his closest friends, Kim Namjoon, as he fixes him a cup of coffee. The truth is, Yoongi told him that he had something he wanted to tell him. However, as he sits in the room listening to low volume jazz, playing on a record player while he messes with loose threads on throw pillows, he starts to rethink his decision. The crackling on the track couldn’t distract him enough. What would his best friend think?

Why did he even care that much?

Yoongi didn’t often confide in his friends for things. He knows it isn’t exactly healthy but he has always been one to deal with problems and decisions by himself. Now that he’s getting into a new relationship- BDSM at that, although he isn’t regretting his decision, he is iffy about whether he should share it with others. He knows no one is entitled to his thoughts but he wants to learn how to get more comfortable talking to his friends about personal things. Now that Yoongi is sitting on his best friend’s couch, he might as well commit. Why else would he be here?

“So, what’s the sudden request for a meet up about?” Namjoon walks up to him, a cup of tea in his hands. His eyes fill with concern because Yoongi has never so nervously called him before. He was usually calm, collected, and straight forward. Namjoon was the guy that gave him a new outlook on situations when he knew he needed to turn to someone. There is no judgment.

“You know how…a few months ago, I broke up with Ae-min.”

Namjoon nods as he sits back in his seat, adjusting the volume on his jazz music. “Did she try to talk to you again?”

Yoongi shakes his head briefly, “Rather, I got in a relationship. With someone else!”

Noticing how off character this was of Yoongi, the taller man places his tea cup down on his coffee table and lays his concern on the back burner for now. “Ah hyung, that’s great! When do I get to meet them?” His eyebrows wiggle, a grin popping on his face. Just the mood of Yoongi’s friend settles his nerves. Namjoon’s smiles are contagious.

Having a good judgment of character, Namjoon always took it upon himself to meet Yoongi's newest relationship. Ae-min was a woman that had been a particular thorn in Namjoon’s side. For the ten months the two were together, he could tell something was off. Whenever he was around, she was a bit too touchy; too flirty to someone who she knew was her boyfriend’s best friend.

It was when she pushed him against a wall at a party and tried to force a kiss on him when Namjoon had gotten the hint. No amount of alcohol would be able to shift him to betray his friend. When he was sobering up the next day, he called Yoongi about the ordeal. They officially broke up the very next day.

“That’s what I wanted to actually talk to you about the most. It’s not really the standard relationship that you think it is. I don’t think I’m ready to move on to something else yet.” Yoongi explains.

This leaves Namjoon further confused and it shows up on his face. It was understandable as Yoongi and his ex had been apart for almost 3 months. He rests his hot cup on the table and leans back in the plush of the couch before crossing his arms, “Then, what do you mean?”

Yoongi messes with his fingers for a second before just coming out with it. “I’ve decided to hire a professional dominatrix.” But it comes out more like a question than a statement.

One beat of silence. Then two.

“Woah. Wow.”

Namjoon rubs the back of his neck, breaking eye contact as he stretches for a moment. That wasn’t exactly the reaction Yoongi was expecting.

“I have a lot of questions but…honestly? Good on you. After what you’ve been through, I think it’s great that you’re moving on.” Namjoon looks back at him and smiles, showing his dimples. “I can ask you the details later but for now, can we finally watch this movie? I’ve been wanting you to see it for a while.”

Settled with Namjoon’s comments, Yoongi takes a sip of his coffee and gestures towards the television with a tilt of his head. “It better be scary.”

-

“This will be our final play.” You mutter into your client’s ear, her hair firmly in your grasp. Your fingers made a mess of what was previously mid-length, neat scarlet waves. She nods in confirmation, not being able to reply with the gag in her mouth. “Good.” And you gently tap her cheek.

Then your phone dings. You sigh because you swear you put it on silent before starting today's session. Maybe this one was broken. You pick it up and read the message.

Mr. Min - Friday? Not sure I can do that but I’ll let you know

You pat the floor twice and your client scrambles on the floor to crawl at your fingertips. You sit on her back as she holds herself up by her hands and knees. She quivers from your weight and whines but holds her ground.

You - Absolutely. I’ll be there around seven if there aren’t any change in plans

-

There’s a knock on his door and he has to look at the mirror near the entrance to see if he’s presentable before opening it. As expected, it was you, here at seven on the dot.

You walk in, black boots heavily clacking on the wooden floors of the entrance. You look around to what is immediately the living room after the first hallway. A deep gray couch with plants around the walls and near doors, some real and some fake.

It was only when you walked in that Yoongi realized he had no idea how this would start. Why is he so nervous?

“I got this for you.” You turn your head to him and hand him a gift bag. The top of it is covered with tissue paper. “Don’t open it yet.”

Yoongi can’t help but be curious for what’s in the bag. What did you give him? He places it near his shoe rack for now.

You take off your jacket and hang it on the rack at the entrance before walking up to the couch. You sit down, no invitation needed, and cross your legs. Then, you clap so loud it causes Yoongi to flinch.

“Today, we’re just going to get to know each other. Okay, darling?” You look back at him.

A shiver runs down his spine and he mindlessly walks and sits next to you. He nods, waiting for you to do or say anything. A couple of moments pass by as you get comfortable on his couch, twirling your finger absentmindedly on the soft texture of the couch.

“Take off your shirt and lay on my lap.”

You say it in such a careless way that it confuses Yoongi just a little bit. Why does he have to take off his shirt?

“What-“

And before he can finish his question, you’re lurching towards him and he shuts his mouth quickly when your fingers hold his chin. You not-quite-glare but challengingly stare at him while sinking into the brown of his eyes and him, the color of yours. One of your eyebrows go up and you let go to lean back on the couch, arms now spread on the back, his head close to your fingers. Now, you’re looking at him.

He does as you say, pulling his shirt over head and revealing his tattoos in full. A chain of blue roses cover his arms and almost continue to his shoulders. Instead, they run down his chest, the amount of flowers thinning and becoming smaller until it’s down his stomach. It is just enough to be covered with a simple long sleeve shirt. They were intricate and the details make it more gorgeous and life-like. Yoongi doesn’t have defined abs; he’s built perfectly and is just your type.

He usually is never looked at and analyzed like this often when his shirt has been off. His nipples go hard in the cold of the room and goose bumps rise on his skin. He resists covering his arms for warmth and comes over to you with as much confidence as he can muster.

You pat your lap, “c’mere.” It’s a bit cheerful, as if you’re treating him like a dog and he can’t deny that it makes him feel some type of way, his heart jumping out of his chest.

He rests the back of his head on your lap and he’s puzzled as to where this can possibly lead to.

Your fingers trace every stem and root of the tattooed flowers on his arms and make their way inwards. They ran down his chest with feather-like touches. Yoongi has to resist the urge to get closer for more of your warmth and instead he finds himself letting out the smallest sigh. He arches his back when your finger grazes his nipple.

“Sensitive here?” You ask in a mumble.

It’s rhetorical, he knows. It’s obvious that he is but he never had the courage to tell his exes and past flings that. Sure, he would take advantage of it when he would masturbate but no one has ever taken the chance to see for themselves. Except you. Maybe it’s because you’re a professional. You flick one and a smile grows on your face when his breath stutters.

“I would love to make you cum just like this.”

He wants to moan louder but he’s not used to being vocal. You can tell by the way he bites at his lips and little whines come from the back of his throat but don’t come out in full force. You know that is just something you’ll have to train him to do. You focus on playing with his nipples, pinching, flicking and rubbing them until he’s arching his pretty back closer to your hands.

It’s when you graze your nails up his pecs that he lets out a full blown moan. Red lines on his pale skin show up in your nails’ wake from its pressure. What stops you is his hands grabbing yours.

“Wait,” He’s out of breath. His eyes are blown out, cock making a clear outline in his pants and he shuffles his hips side to side as if it will help him gain release.

“Yucca?” You offer his safe word just in case he forgets it. Immediately he shakes his head.

So you pull his hands off of yours and continue your ministries.

“Fuck…”

He shivers again but this time it’s not because he’s cold. In fact, he feels like he might start sweating. He thought you were joking about making him cum with just his nipples but the longer you do this, the more he starts to believe you.

“Why’d you stop me?” You tug.

His teeth press together, arching, “This is a-a lot.”

One of your hands moves away from his nipples to dip into his newly agape mouth. When your fingers hit his tongue, he instinctively wraps his lips around them.

“This okay?” You say in this babying voice while your finger motions are anything but sweet. Your fingers are rougher, nails involved more than before. The fingers in his mouth are close to thrusting down his throat.

He’s so hard and you haven’t even touched his dick.

He nods almost immediately at your question, small humps in the air as he really starts to feel the texture of his pants. Why would he wear underwear in his own home? Well, he wasn’t expecting to be making this much of a mess in them. Gray sweatpants were the worst thing to wear because the wet spot on it couldn’t be hidden even if he tried.

You pull your fingers out of his mouth, spit attached to them before you swap hands. You coat and swirl your wet fingers around his sensitive nipples and with his okay, stuff the two from your other hand, down his throat until he’s gagging on it.

It’s more intense than he thought for your first session but he knows what he signed up for. He is the one who checked all those things down in the contract. He reaches to touch his cock just a bit for a glimpse of relief and a clear head but then you move your fingers from both his mouth and his chest.

“Baby…” You rub up and down on his tattooed arms. “You know better, don’t you?”

He looks into your eyes, his own glazed with lust. You notice the way he tries to subtly roll his eyes.

“Don’t you?” You repeat yourself, surprising him by pushing your fingers on his tongue. “Speak.”

“Y-yesh.” He gets out the sound even with your fingers in his mouth.

Your fingers run closer down his throat and he tenses. “Then…why did you even try it?”

He can feel himself twitching in his pants again. He’s realizing just how close he is to the edge.

You thrust your fingers down his throat again, watching tears build up in his eyes. He gags again, spit gathering at his lips. It doesn’t help when your finger are back to his nipples, even meaner than before.

“Wa-“ He tries to get out the ‘wait’ but the gagging is too much and instead, he chokes on it. You pull your fingers back to the top of his tongue as he coughs and squirms in your hold.

You fake a pout, rolling his nipples between two fingers and then running your nails down his chest once again.

“Fuck, wait wait, gonna-“

You lean down, pressing a kiss on his forehead and you mumble there. You talk to him soothingly and before he knows it, he’s shivering and making a mess in his sweatpants. His hands jump up and you grab them in yours, watching as he cums untouched. His eyes clenched tightly while he thrusts in the air, groans flowing from his lips and you do nothing but watch it all happen.

It’s not often that your clients cum without some type of lower stimulation so this is just a treat. You can’t deny how turned on you are.

When he’s lowered to trembles, you let go of his hand and kiss his forehead again. “Y’okay?”

His eyes open slowly, blurry and the light coming from the ceiling doesn’t help.

“Holy shit.” He puddles in your lap. He grips your thigh in a way you would call lovingly before looking into your eyes. “I’ve never done that before.”

“A lot of people haven’t.” You push your hand in his hair, saliva already dried on your fingers and his chest. You playfully flick at his nipple again and he moves away, letting out a small sound of disapproval. “I’ve learned a lot about you. You have quite the pain kink, don’t you?”

Yoongi presses his lips together before mumbling, “maybe.”

It’s either you don’t hear him or you choose to not acknowledge it. “How do you feel?”

It’s genuine and warms his heart. He hides his eyes behind his hair, feeling how uncomfortable it is in his pants. “I really need to take a bath.” And he lets out a small scoff.

“Can I help you out?” And you continue with a joke, “No extra charge.” Your fingers twirl in his hair, massaging his scalp.

“Well in that case…” He lingers his sentence, sarcasm dripping from his words.

-

Yoongi looks at his pants on the floor, grimacing at the sight of it inside-out. He’s already soaked to his chest in hot water and he can feel his muscles relaxing under the bubbles and smell of lavender in the air.

You’re there, gently rubbing a sponge on his arms. “I want to get to know you-“

Yoongi lays back on the edge of his bathtub, eyes meeting yours, “You know I can’t trust you when you say that now, right?”

You stop your movements to let out a laugh, “To be honest, I was trying to learn about what you liked.” You dip the sponge in the sudsy water again and gently rub it on his arms, “Dare I say, I helped you learn something that you like.”

Yoongi chuckles and although he’d like to say something sassy, he holds himself back and gets comfortable in the steam and the feeling of your touch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist - @hobiswhore @madstxo @itsshaydeekaydee @namjooncrabs @ollyoxenfrees @jajabro @lchimmyl

All likes, reblogs, and comment feedback are appreciated for stories like this. Friendly reminder that reblogs spread more than likes!

All rights are reserved © joonlaksme

[zoeykallus]

heya! I'm not sure if your requests are closed, and by no means do I hope to overwhelm you further with more requests :'D feel free to ignore this especially bc it's more of a negative request aaa

so as context: sometimes I zone out and due to my childhood I will flinch if I see a movement coming at me which at the time I thought was understandable/normal but my bf has already expressed his disappointment every time I flinched or denied physical affection and left me being the one who apologizes for a reflex and I was wondering how the batch (platonically) would react to the reader (preferably female) telling them that story if the reader was the batch's bffs or smth? :'D (plus Cody if that's okay!) I'd be curious to know if they would just try to calm me down or if they would try to encourage me to get that specific thing fixed maybe?

argh I'm so sorry for the long ass text cRIES

again no pressure whatsoever with this waaah

Aloha! 😊

Interesting question. Personally, I think personal space should always be respected, no matter how close we are with someone. In a relationship, most people tend to loving physical contact in many different forms, and I see how this reaction can be surprising or off-putting for some. But with a little empathy and patience, that really shouldn't be a problem for a partner to get used to and accept. If my partner is jumpy with such reflex reactions, I should be able to adjust. There is a reason for this reaction and I think you shouldn't be, or feel pressured to apologize for it. All in all, communication (and an understanding, open mind) is key, as it almost always is. Then there is also the option to try and get that out of your system, so to speak. Therapy might help, it's worth a try or two. After all, it would possibly make things easier for you as well, giving you more comfort in everyday life. Easier said than done, I know. But that's just my two cents. Either way, I'm wishing you all the best 😊 Let's see...

The Bad Batch/Cody x Reader HCs - The Flinch

Warnings: Implied Trauma / Traumatic Reflex Reaction

_________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

_________

>Masterlist<

Hunter

It can happen casually, maybe he doesn't really think about it, just wants your attention for a moment, but you are busy, and your mind is elsewhere. A brief touch on the shoulder, innocent, gentle, without ulterior motives. Still, you flinch and turn around so quickly, startled, that he flinches briefly himself.

Hunter in no way intended to scare you or offend you, he would never do that consciously. Of course, he apologizes, you are close friends, he knows your past that you confided in him.

"I should have known better, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

He is patient, gentle and forgiving. Hunter tries his best to be sensitive to you and respect your boundaries. He is careful in his interactions with you, considerate.

Echo

The first time it happens, he is so startled by your reaction that he backs away and looks at his hand as if he expects to see it red-hot, or spiked. He blinks a few times, then says, "Sorry, did I scare you?"

Whether you confide in him or not, Echo will never hold it against you. He can understand that your reaction has a background, and he can respect that you don't want to share it with him. This does not change the fact that he will take it into consideration.

He sometimes seems strict and so serious, but he has an antenna for the sensitivities of others. It is in his nature to be considerate.

Wrecker

He is a bit impetuous and very affectionate. Scaring you or triggering a reaction is never his intention, but it can still happen quite a few times. You can speak openly with Wrecker, he is happy to listen to you, he is understanding even if you don't tell him everything.

He will always apologize if it still happens accidentally, and he will never blame you for these reactions. He will rather make sure that others around you respect your personal space as well.

Tech

He is not a particularly physical guy. On the contrary, Tech values his personal space and usually respects that of others around him. In combat, this may not be possible at times, but in general everyday life, Tech tends to keep a polite distance.

If he does trigger that automatic flight or defensive reaction, he apologizes immediately, and you can assume it won't happen again. He himself is not a fan of surprising touches, which is why he doesn't like Wreckers' little nudges at all and usually lets them pass with rolling eyes or critically furrowed brows.

Crosshair

As almost always, his first reaction is a bit grumpy. He doesn't immediately understand what's going on, but he's a good observer and a bright guy. Of course, he notices that you have these reactions more often, even with other people.

Crosshair reads your body language and realizes that this is a learned, habitual reflex reaction. He understands that there is a real, possibly deep-seated reason behind it. Of course, he adapts, even if he doesn't like to admit it, he can be considerate and very understanding.

So you don't have to worry about him. He certainly doesn't respect or appreciate you less than before because of that. In fact, it awakens a certain protective instinct in him.

Cody

At first, he is surprised, but he is neither offended nor annoyed. But he is attentive. As a soldier, he's learned to read body language, to interpret reactions, and even though you might not say anything about it, Cody understands pretty quickly what makes you tick.

You can count on him to pay attention to that in the future. You don't have to apologize to him, you can just be yourself and relax. Cody is always a safe haven.

He also won't let other people maybe cause you problems because of it. Anyone who teases you about it or makes fun of you should be prepared to get in trouble.

[hard-deck-confessions]

After his mother, Bradley’s favorite person was always Maverick. His earliest memory was sitting on top of the piano at Kansas City Barbeque while his dad and Mav belted out a less than beautiful rendition af Great Balls of Fire and then being carried out dozing off in Mav’s arms. Although, he's not sure if he really remembers that day or if he can just picture it so vividly because Mav talked about it so often. Mav talked about a lot of memories with Goose. He told some stories so much, Bradley had them memorized word for word.

Mav was a constant in Bradley's childhood. He made sure he was there for every birthday, every Christmas, and on the anniversary of Goose's death he always took Bradley and Carol out for the night. If he was on land near by, he was there every Wednesday for family dinner—there was always an extra place set for Goose those nights.

When Bradley was in 3rd grade and didn't want to be in his school's Father's Day program, Mav dropped everything to be there, he didn't even bother to change out of his jumpsuit. He didn't care that he would face discipline for rushing off before debriefing; the look on Bradley's face when he saw Mav right next to his mom in the front row was enough to get him through a lifetime of reprimands.

Mav was the one who taught Bradley to ride a bike. He put band-aids with (somehow) poorly drawn smiley faces on every scraped knee and elbow during the very long process because, while Bradley might have been a natural pilot, biking did not come as easy. Mav took him to ball games on the weekends in the summer when he could and made sure he had the best swing on his little league team. He helped him fix up Goose’s old truck and then taught him to drive it. He never lost his temper, but instead laughed every time Bradley stalled it.

“Damnit!” Bradley would yell, slamming his fist on the steering wheel in frustration. “I swear, I'm never going to get this thing out of the neighborhood!"

“Just calm down and try again, kid.” Mav would say with a smile a mile wide. “You've got this."

Mav was the only person Bradley thought to call at 3am after hiking a mile in the pouring rain to the nearest gas station because he'd gotten his truck stuck in a ditch taking a corner too fast. Mav was there in 20 minutes. And instead of reprimanding him about his carelessness, Mav bought the shivering teen a hot chocolate and told him the story of how he wrecked his dad's old beloved car when he was in high school.

When Bradley graduated from high school, Mav gave him Goose's helmet. He'd pulled strings 16 years prior to keep the helmet from being repurposed for another pilot and paid a pretty penny to get it, but he'd never tell Bradley that. Bradley only found out when he joined the Navy himself.

Maverick loved Bradley like his own kid, and he felt responsible for him because, despite what any military hearing said, he would always blame himself for Goose’s death. That was why pulling his papers was the hardest decision he'd ever made and the easiest at the same time. He tried not to regret it, but Maverick hated feeling Bradley pull away from him; he hated that he wasn't one of the kid’s favorite people any longer.

But Bradley's favorite person never stopped being Maverick, it was only Rooster that couldn't face Captain Pete Mitchell.

Until he could.

- Hazard

[snowdropluck204]

How They React to Their SO Getting Sick - BNHA

PART 1

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki is the epitome of tough love, I feel that his parents did try to take care of him when he was sick but he didn't want to take it, he was going to fight this illness on his own! ~ You had gotten poorly over the weekend, so when Monday came around, you had let Aizawa know that you were ill and were stuck in bed watching YouTube with tissues littering your covers, a sign of your cold. ~ Sniffling softly, you settled down to try and nap for a little while, trying to take a break from the discomfort. ~ BANG ~ Shooting back up in bed, causing your headache to worsen quickly. Moving your gaze to the door, flinching at the light coming from the hallway of the dorm building, seeing the halo of light around a certain angry Pomeranian. ~ "What the hell babe!?" Katsuki shouted, causing you to wince at the volume. "Why weren't you in class!?" ~ Taking a look around your room, seeing the bottles of cold medicine, the tissues and your weak form in bed, he put the pieces together. ~ He also saw you had flinched at the light and his shouting, so he quickly shut the door and made his way towards you, trying his hardest to be quiet (which was very difficult for him). ~ Kneeling down next to your bed, he pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, feeling for a fever and not finding one. ~ Sighing a small sigh of relief, Katsuki pulled back and began working, he put on your favourite show, letting you snuggle up and went away, telling you he'd be right back. ~ Hurrying down to the communal kitchen, he found a can of your favourite soup and, whilst he would have preferred to make it from scratch, this would have to do, he began to cook. ~ He boiled the kettle for a cup of hot water with honey and lemon, knowing you hadn't drank or eaten anything, potentially for most of the weekend! ~ He silently scowled as he moved around the kitchen, he knew you were sick now, but he was mad at himself for not noticing sooner, thinking back on it now, he should have noticed you getting weaker, he'd spent the whole weekend with you! ~ Thinking that he was a shitty boyfriend, he stepped up his cooking game, bringing you up soup, honey and lemon and some of your favourite, softer snacks, nothing that would irritate your throat. ~ Shuffling into your room, he set down your food and snuggled next to you, waving away your protests of 'you'll get sick'. He didn't care. ~ "I'm gonna help you make this cold your bitch, babe!" He whisper shouted.

Izuku Midoriya

Baby Green Bean would just panic, I also feel like before he'd do anything to help you, he would observe you, take notes and then research the crap out of whatever it is to find the best and quickest ways to help you feel better! ft. Mama Inko!

~ When you realised you were sick, just a tummy bug, you text Izuku, knowing he would overthink your absence and you didn't want him panicking. ~ Little did you know, as soon as he got that text message, he was panicking. ~ He had gone to visit his mom for the weekend and now he was running around the apartment, his poor mother chasing him, asking him what was wrong. ~ "Mom! (y/n)'s sick! What do I do!? I- I wanna help but what if I do something and it makes it worse!?" He continued to ramble on about how he had never taken care of someone before, he'd never had a sick significant other because he'd never had a significant other in the first place! ~ His mom tried to calm him down, asking, how you were sick, he responded that you thought it was just an upset stomach. ~ "Oh, Izu, that's an easy fix, let's make a bit of a care package for them, they might not want you around too much if their stomach's queasy." ~ And that's what they did, Izuku worked on making a flask of ginger tea and packing some broth, his mom was at the store, buying you some sports drinks for hydration and some crackers, applesauce and bananas, if you're able to handle the fluids. ~ Packing everything in a cooler, Izuku kissed his mom goodbye, thanked her for her help and set off back to the dorms. ~ Knocking on your door, he waited to hear you let him in, fully expecting you to not respond and instead just leave his care package outside your door, but you let him in. ~ "Hi sweetie," He whispered, seeing you're eyes bleary, presumably just waking up from a nap. ~ He gave you a soft kiss on the forehead, fully aware from reading an article on the train over, that an upset stomach can also cause skin sensitivity and muscle aches. ~ You gave him a soft, weak smile. Izuku placed the cooler next to your bed, "My mom and I made you a care package, just a couple things to help you feel better." He smiled at you, stroking your hair out of your face. ~ You blushed a little at the amount of care your boyfriend was showing you, but thanked him and asked him to thank Inko for you, he agreed and went to leave. ~ You reached out and held onto his sleeve as he was leaving, "Stay?" You asked quietly, needing the human contact. ~ Smiling a big smile, Izuku nodded and tucked himself in bed next to you, pulling up the show the two of you had been watching together. ~ "Of course I'll stay sweetie! I'll always stay."

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto I think would be panicking but only on the inside, obviously when you're not feeling well, you're his main priority, but he doesn't know what to do! He'll sit and panic on his own and then try his hardest to help you, not doing too great…

~ You had the flu. ~ You had a fever. ~ And Shoto had no clue, how to help you! ~ He came to visit you in your dorm room, not realising that you weren't very well and got worried pretty quickly, seeing your tired, delirious, face red, sweating and cold at the same time and you didn't even acknowledge his presence when he came in. ~ He steps out of your room again, pulling out his phone to call Fuyumi, begging her to help him, he was so confused, poor baby! ~ Walking back in, he realises you've seen him now, reaching out with grabby hands for him to cuddle you. ~ Of course he's happy to, but he's desperately trying to stay as still as is humanly possible, hoping you'll be comfortable. ~ He notices that you seem to be moving a lot, moving from his left side to his right. He's not an idiot, he knows what the matter is fairly quickly. ~ Shifting you to lie on your front, cradled against his chest, he gently places his right hand on your forehead, soothing your fever. His left hand goes on the small of your back, underneath your shirt, feeling how your shirt sticks slightly to your skin. ~ Once you've fallen asleep, he once again texts his sister, smiling when he gets the text back, 'Keep her comfortable'. ~ He did a good job.

Eijiro Kirishima

Eijiro is most definitely the 'mom' friend, he knew exactly what to do and when he realises you're not well, he's sprinting around to help you!

~ Eijiro probably knew you were sick before you did! He probably always keeps some kinds of medication around, painkillers, cold medicine, cold and heat pads, emergency snacks. Anything really! ~ What kind of boyfriend would he be if he couldn't take care of his pebble? How unmanly would that be!? ~ When he notices that you're getting sick, you were getting tired quicker, you didn't have much of an appetite and you were starting to slur your words slightly. ~ He let himself into your room, with his arms full of - things! Just things! Blankets, some of his hoodies for you to wear, cold medicine, a bucket (just in case), a bunch of movies and TV shows, snacks, drinks and basically anything else he could have brought from his room to your own in one trip. ~ Once you yourself have realised you're sick, he doesn't let you leave your bed and he certainly doesn't let anyone else in! ~ Mama Eijiro is the most protective being and you cannot tell me otherwise! ~ But he's also a total pushover for you! You could ask him to kill someone, rob a bank or piss off Bakugou and he'd do it! ~ He did try his hardest to keep you comfy and happy, keeping you warm and well fed! You two would definitely binge movies and shows together, him happily commenting every now and then and you tiredly nodding along, happy he's happy. ~ But then the weekend was over and he was being physically dragged out of your room by Bakugou and the rest of the class, still shouting instructions at you: ~ "Keep drinking water through the day! I'll be checking how much you've drank! I've left some sandwiches and soup for you, try and eat if you can! I love you pebble-"

Denki Kaminari

Denki is my favourite clueless baby! I can almost guarantee he would have a minor panic attack/aneurysm whenever there is something wrong with you at the beginning of your relationship and probably whenever you're sick for the rest of it!

~ I feel like Denki would originally try to avoid you when he finds out you're sick, not to be mean or because he doesn't want to take care of you, it's because he doesn't think that he can take care of you! ~ The boy can barely take care of himself and boyfriend protocol dictates he should take care of his partner as well!? ~ Panicking, Denki would probably text the Bakusquad group chat, hoping they can help somehow! ~ They do. ~ The squad seemed to have a soft spot for you, even Bakugou! I feel like Mina and Sero would definitely be like, "Your partner is my partner", kind of thing. Then Katsuki and Eijiro are just the group's mom and dad! ~ They all leave different things outside your door for Denki to give to you, both not wanting to overwhelm you with their presence and also not wanting to get sick. ~ Katsuki cooks you lunch, Eijiro leaves you a flask of tea, Mina couldn't think of anything helpful after that so she ran out to get you snacks and sports drinks and Sero just brought you an item of clothing from each of them (definitely not asking Katsuki before stealing from him). ~ Eventually Denki would calm down, you would demand cuddles from him and any other day he would be on you like glue and would not let go! ~ But today, he was so nervous about hurting you, about making you worse, he was zapping like crazy and he didn't want to hurt you. ~ He saw the look in your eyes when he told you, but almost broke down when you told him you didn't care and pulled him into bed anyway. ~ You would spend the rest of the day watching movies, cuddling and most likely sending each other memes. ~ Denki calmed down and stopped shocking you, but he was happy that you loved him, Zaps and All.

Hitoshi Shinsou

Hitoshi would act cool on the outside, definitely acting stoic and uncaring but having a full on meltdown in his head. He wouldn't know the first thing about taking care of something that wasn't a cat, but he didn't want you knowing that!

~ When you tell him you're sick, he had just entered your room, so he stands there, staring at you from the corner, before whipping out his phone to look up what he should do. ~ "What are you doing?" You croaked at him. ~ "Well, I don't know what to do! So I'm googling!" ~ Chuckling and shaking your head, you mutter that you're fine, just needing some company. ~ He tries his hardest to just stay with you, but can't help thinking that he needs to do more for you. ~ He spent the rest of the day basically treating you like a houseplant, feeding you, watering you and facing you towards the sunlight, hoping something would help! ~ Hitoshi would most definitely use your sickness as an excuse to cuddle and take a nap. ~ He just would. Baby is tired and needs to sleep so any excuse will do! ~ Denki would definitely come looking for him. If he didn't find him in his own room, he'd immediately know to check yours! ~ He woke up Hitoshi when he came in and was instantly threatened. ~ "If you wake them up, I will leave you trapped outside the dorms for a week!" He whisper shouted, Denki giggling as silently as he could but did leave, not wanting to wake you up intentionally. ~ Hitoshi would have to wake you eventually so you could eat and take some medicine, he does so with a soft kiss on your forehead (definitely not checking your temperature or anything!).

[rinadragomir]

It's thinking about Matthew and his one and only someone hours

What kind of person do you think it would be? A mysterious French man named Sylvain Allard, which sounds very fancy and mysterious, was mentioned and i can't help but wonder if he might be the one.

For some reason I've always imagined Matthew with someone like... Idk Cristina from TDA or Lexi from Euphoria. Someone gentle, calm and understanding because Matthew is chaotic enough, but also someone creative so they could appreciate his love for art. Someone serious and kind so they could treat Matthew and his issues well enough.

I hope that if it's a man then he won't be that typical love interest: not like other guys, broken inside, dominant with a kink for pressing his love interest against the wall, emotional rollercoaster king. Like so many people already used him like a physical distraction just because he's "aesthetic, hot and it's really easy to get him invested into you"💀⚰️

Idk that man just appeared FrOm tHe ShAdOwS in that DaRk CoAt 👁👄👁 this is my fear, I'm dreading it okay?

Matthew is a touch starved kitten who tries to hug someone at any given moment. He loves to sleep with his friends on the floor, being held & kissed on the forehead. He gifts people stones FOE GOD'S SAKE?!???! Please Cassie, let his partner match him, i don't want someone to fall for him like Cordelia did: "because he looks hot with those dark circles and depressed face and i wanna fix him". Enough of flirty flirt, let it be serious from the beginning. THEY MUST MEET AT THE IRONWORKS THAT'S HOW SERIOUS IT SHOULD BE

🕯manifesting🕯 thank you for witnessing my whining~ it's appreciated

[sashi-ya]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈... Yuuta Okkotsu x F! Reader

⤹˚ synopsis. a silent night, a very calm christmas eve night... a new dawn, on christmas day... the first christmas morning of the rest of your lives ~

tw: nothing, honestly. very, very sweet. a/n: personally inspired on my personal Yuuta Okkotsu, that I won't tag cause I don't want him to think this is an insinuation to get married 👀 well, unless he wants to 🤷‍♂️💕 jk, i love u. calm down. wc: 979.

Ruffled black hair; those perpetual dark circles that will never go away no matter how many nights he sleeps by your side.

You both preferred staying in your own department for Christmas eve. A delicious meal cooked by you two, watching the snow falling down so slow and so peacefully. Your first Christmas together, Yuta makes everything so special.

Both fell asleep in the couch, but he carried you to bed. Hugs, soft kisses on your forehead and cuddles… a silent night, a warm, safe, Christmas night.

You wake up first, in total silence, admiring the tiny little nose of your beloved Yuta pointing at you. His cheeks, a little reddish. His lips, barely separated. Not a single noise he makes, just a soft murmur.

Contemplating his soft features, your eyes get a little watery… it’s been long enough since he came back now, but it still amazes you how he turned your world upside down after waiting for him for three years.

You sniffle. You don’t wish for him to open his eyes and to see you cry. He would get worried; he would be sad and desperate to know what happened. Because Yuta is always worried he might have hurt you, that he might have done something wrong. But how could he?

You notice him moving a little, and his lip shutting. He swallows in his sleep, and so you decide to close your eyes. It is always cute to let him wake you up… even if you were already up.

“(Name)! (Name)! it’s Christmas morning!! Come on, I wanna give you my gift!” he chimes, happily. His loving hands, a little veiny and strong but still delicate, land on you. His caresses are as soft as if they were touching the wings of a butterfly, but as hot as a warming sun in the middle of a winter sky.

“mhh… hi ~” you murmur, noticing your voice is still too sleepy to be able to say much. You extent your arms to him, asking for him to cuddle on your chest. “c’mere”

“But, but… the gift!!” he protests, acceding too easily to your hug request.

Yuta snakes in between your arms, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You, like a caring protector, pull him close, surrounding him with your arms and the sheets.

“Can we stay like this for some time? I wanna give you my presents too, but for now… just rest a little bit in here” you beg, tracing little circles on his back. The hand you slipped in between his warm skin and his light grey t-shirt feels like heaven to him… to you.

“We can stay for as long as you want, (Name)” he murmurs, getting comfortable there.

Your eyes, a little bit unused to the light coming from the window, detect the imagery of soft flakes pouring from the sky in a slow-motion winter sky.

“It’s snowing today… such a cute gift, right?” you become stupidly poetic when it comes to him. Loving someone makes you an artist; a passionate lover willing to create beautiful art to express the feelings that are even thatyou’re your heart can’t fit inside.

He squirms a little; you notice him a little bit nervous. He probably took a lot of time to decide what to give you for Christmas, that’s probably what it is…

“It’s… ah… yes, a cute gift. Being with you, though… it’s even better” he whispers, kissing your lips ever so softly.

Even if both are grown ups now, and those days at the Tokyo Curse College are far in the past, the innocence has never abandoned you. With Yuta, you can be a child, and you don’t feel the pressure to act mature… being with him, it’s like feeling safe… like your problems never existed in the first place.

His dark grey eyes fix in yours, as if they wanted to say something, as if they wished to scream, to finally express something.

“Are you ok, Yuu?” you ask, taking your hand to his cheek. The tiny little freckles that are almost invisible to many, but not to you, create unique patterns on his skin.

“I… yes… I am a little bit nervous…” “Why?” “Because I am scared of you not liking my gift…”

You ruffle his hair. Anything, from a packet of gummy bears to his whole world, means exactly the same to you… Anything Yuta wants to give you, you consider it to be the most precious gift, a treasure to hold close, to protect, for your whole life.

“Yuta… you know… I-“ you start “lecturing” him about it, but he suddenly stands up from bed and runs away.

You are left there, speechless. What is this boy doing? Why is he leaving? What happened?

You can hear his steps going downstairs, and soon after coming back up. He runs until the very frame of your bedroom door, holding a little package inside his hands.

“I…” he wants to speak, but he clearly can’t. His cheeks have become as red as apples, fading even with his dark circles.

You sit in your bed, frowning. What is happening to him?

“Are you ok, babe? You are scaring me…” you mumble, watching him run towards the bed.

He slides inside and under the sheets again, this time with that little package in his hands. He covers both of you with the sheets, creating a safe fortress for you.

“Yuu?” you ask, confused but still giggly. “Open…” he mutters, giving you the little box in such sweet, shy way it makes you melt.

You see the content, but you don’t really needed to… you already knew.

“Of course I do…” “You do? Really?” “Yes…!” you chime, pouncing on him, kissing every little spot on his face, on his lips and neck.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Merry Christmas, my future… wife” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Merry Christmas, my future hubby”

[glassartpeasants]

Run Rabbit Run pt.04

Yandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Slight gore, nightmares, being stabbed, death, Heat being a real one once again, blood, mentions of injuries, trauma responses, forgotten memories???, edited to the best Grammarly would let me, long fic

Trash Summary: After an incident that blurs reader's memory, she's met with a crisis. Turn a blind eye and continue to love the man who saved her or dig deeper and find out who Kidd truly is.

A/N: I was feeling a little silly and decided that Kidd hit the reader a little too hard after the last chapter, so here you go. This shit is fucking LONGGGGGG. And very much edited to the best of my abilities. Grammarly wasn't on my side so it is what it is. really hope it's not confusing

music playlist

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10

@rebeccawinters @iggy5055 @dairygrrl @childconnoisseur @menifire1092

~~~

It was always so easy to sleep when you lay next to Kidd. His heartbeat was like a lullaby when you laid your head on his chest. Your fingers would sometimes trace the scars that adorned his body. All of them containing a different story. You liked to place small kisses on them just to see Kidd’s face turn brighter than his hair.

When you weren’t sleeping next to each other, you’d sit on his lap and watch him work on whatever new project he had in his shop. You even got to help him make his robotic arm! The happiness you felt inside when he praised you made your face burn hot. You loved making him happy. 

He’d tell you stories about his travels on the sea’s before meeting you. Tell you all sorts of things that only you would ever know. The trust he put in you had your heart overflowing with love. 

When you laid in bed together, you’d tell him about your day or about the new book you’ve read. He’d just sit there and listen, not saying a word, only humming when you ask if he was still awake. He might not be the most romantic guy in the New World, but he was perfect the way he was. 

And that’s all that mattered to you.

~~~~

Leaning against the railing, you look out to the sea. The beautiful sunset had a calm washing over you. Even though the smell of salt hit your nose, it still didn’t change your mood. Why would it? This is the happiest you’ve ever been in your life! How can you be sad when you have the love of your life by your side?

You don’t know what you would’ve done if you hadn’t met Kidd. No one’s ever made you so happy! He truly was an angel in disguise. He saved you from a group of pirates who burned down your home! At least, that's what Kidd helped you remember. You couldn’t remember what the pirates looked like, but you remember seeing Kidd’s face. With that in mind, he helped you remember that he rescued you.

According to Kidd, PTSD and trauma can cause people to forget things. He told you it was okay to forget things. Everyone does. It made you feel better that he knew you so well. You swear he knows you better than you know yourself.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Your thoughts were interrupted by a voice beside you. To your shock, it was Heat leaning against the railing next to you.

“It is. You’ve been pretty busy these past few months, huh? Feels like I’ve barely seen you.”

“The New World keeps you busy. How’s it with…Kidd?” Heat sends you a look that you couldn’t decipher. Almost sadness, maybe pity? But what would he have to pity you for? You were perfectly healthy, and your life is great!

“Great! He told me he’s making me something, so I’m looking forward to that!” You feel a big smile crawl across your face as you look at the man beside you.

“That’s good.” A silence followed after his words.

“Oh! Also, he’s teaching me self-defense! He’s worried that other pirate groups are gonna take me away. Isn’t he such a sweetheart for worrying about me?” Your gushing didn’t help fix Heat’s expression. Instead, it seemed to worsen it.

“What’s wrong, Heat? You look sad?” Heat sighs before pushing himself off the railing.

“Does the name Sabaody mean anything to you by chance?” 

“Huh? I mean, the name sounds familiar, but I can’t remember.” You hear Heat mumble to himself, but you can’t make it out. 

“I see. Well, just know that I’m sorry.” You furrow your brows as you watch him walk away. His words made an unease settle inside you. What could he have to be sorry for? Maybe you just misheard? Yeah, that’s the logical answer.

The whole experience made you tired and the calming sunset didn’t help either. With one last look at the sea, you make your way to your and Kidd’s shared bedroom. You couldn’t wait to snuggle under the covers and lay next to him.

Opening the door, you see Kidd already passed out. You smile as you discard your own clothes before joining him in bed.

Throwing open the covers, you lay behind him and look at his bare back. The skin looked so soft that you couldn’t help but gently drag your fingers against his shoulder blades before kissing them. You can feel him tense slightly but let out a small sigh. Rolling his shoulder blades, Kidd turns to look at you over his shoulder.

“Having fun?” Kidd’s groggy voice had you silently laughing.

“Am I not allowed to admire my love? You work so hard as a captain. No doubt you’ll become King of The Pirates.” Kidd turns around to face you, his hair cascading down his face. You smile at him before cupping his cheeks and moving to give him a kiss. His flesh arm grabs you and pulls you closer. You scoot up so your face to face with him. Wanting nothing more than to look in his eyes.

“Cheesy.” He laughs as you pout at his words. With a huff, you turn around, upset that he ruined the mood. 

“You big baby.” Kidd places his head on your shoulder before kissing your neck. He kisses the sensitive skin before nibbling across your neck, making you sigh.

“Your so lucky I love you.” A groan leaves Kidd’s lips, and it vibrates along your neck.

“Say it again.”

“I love you Kidd.” You smile as you move your hand so you can run your fingers through Kidd’s red locks. The familiar silk feeling never faded. You can feel Kidd start to suck against your neck to the point red blotches appear.

“I love you too.” It was a silent whisper but still loud enough to have your heart overflowing with love. You never wanted to leave his side. He was the love of your life, and you couldn’t bear the thought of living without him.

~~~~

“Come on! Let’s go shopping! You’ve been busy all week! I haven’t seen you other than bedtime, and even then, you're out cold!” You grab Kidd’s flesh hand with both of yours as you try to drag him away from leaving the bedroom.

“I told you I’m working on something. Don’t be impatient, princess.” Kidd laughs with a cocky grin before throwing you over his shoulder and leaving the room.

“Plus…”

“There’s something I want you to try.”

“Oh? Did Killer make something new?”

“No, and why do you assume Killer made something? I can cook!”

“You’ll be good at cooking the day the sky turns green.” You feel a slight pinch on your thigh, causing you to slap Kidd’s back.

“That hurt you jerk!”

“Kidd!” The sound of footsteps running caught your attention as you caught Killer in the corner of your eye.

“What? Can’t you see I’m busy?” You couldn’t help but laugh when you heard Killer sigh.

“Anyways, we’ve got everything stocked, so we can set sail anytime.”

“Alright, let’s get going.” Kidd’s response had your face drop and your mood souring.

“Hey! You said we could go shopping after you had me try something!”

“Never said that. Nice try, princess.”

“Well, you heavily implied it!” Kidd laughed at you, and it only pissed you off more.

“I actually needed things! I could have just gone by myself-”

“No!” Kidd’s voice boomed in the hallway, echoing repeatedly in your ears. You could feel your mouth grow dry, and your heart skipped a beat. Turning back, you see Kidd glaring at you with his amber eyes. His piercing gaze made you freeze as the look was something you’d never seen before from him.

“You are never to leave this ship unless I say so. Do you understand?” His words put a heavy unease in your stomach. You look at him with shock before you grit your teeth. The air was so tense you could cut it with a knife.

“I’ve got somewhere to be. Bye-” Killer quickly left, leaving you and Kidd alone.

“Kidd put me down.” Seemingly, Kidd snapped out of whatever ‘trance’ he was in and started tripping over his own words.

“Shit I-well…I mean-” You didn’t want to hear it. You were an adult woman who could make her own choices. Even if you loved Kidd, you wouldn’t let him talk to you like that.

“Put me down now. This is not for discussion.” He held onto you for a few more seconds before putting you down. You look up at his face, and to your distress, it was blank. No emotion or anything. But he emitted an aura that had you scurrying away without saying another word.

Seeing Kidd like that deeply disturbed you. Why weren’t you allowed off the ship? And why did you need his permission? Does he not trust you or something? What reason would he have to keep you trapped on the ship?

Your head started pounding, causing you to stop in your tracks. Another migraine. You’ve been getting them a lot more recently, and you couldn’t pinpoint why you got them or why they’ve become more common. It was always in the same spot, right in the back of your head. There happened to be a huge scar there so you originally thought it had to do with that, but Kidd was very insistent that it had nothing to do with the headaches. That it was just a councidence. Per  your request though, kidd’s brought doctors to the ship to check you out, but no results. They gave you some meds, but nothing worked. No ice, meds, dark rooms, or water helped with the pain that it caused. Even though the meds didn’t do anything, you still took them just in case. Which is why you needed to go to town today. To get meds and scar cream.

The scar cream was needed because every time your eyes landed on your body, you saw scars that stuck out like a sore thumb. It bothered you more that you can’t remember how you got them. Well, you did know a few now after Kidd told you what happened. The two rough scars that adorned your left thigh was caused by a Marine after they stabbed you in the thigh when you wouldn’t tell them where Kidd was. There were times where it made you scratch your head cause you were sure that you’d remember something like that.

Another scar you don’t remember is the one on your ankle. Kidd said a pirate tried kidnapping you by putting a shackle on your ankle. While it fit the scar mark, surely it would have taken much longer to make such a scar if you were only really kidnapped for a day or two, like he said. He said the same thing about the one around your neck. Still, your logical side said it was impossible to cause such scars in such a short time. By the looks of them, it would have taken months to cause such damage to the skin. But it didn’t make sense. Why would Kidd lie about something like that?

You understood that trauma can cause memory loss. How much memory is lost truly depends on the person. If that was the case with you, did that mean you endured so much that you forgot almost everything? The thought ate at you. You only had so many memories with Kidd, and when you tried asking him to help you remember more, his eyes went wide, and he stuttered on his words again. At that time, you let it go. Having no reason to question him.

While walking along the ships halls, lost in your thoughts, you passed by a door that caught your attention. Stopping in front of it, you look at it with curiosity. While you don’t remember the door, it feels like you’ve been here before. Curiosity got the best of you, so you went to open the door, only to realize it was locked. A frown works its way on your face before you start backing up. Maybe if you charge at it a little bit, it’ll open.

You didn’t know why you needed to get in so badly, but you wouldn’t leave till you saw what was in that room. So, with a deep breath, you charged your body towards the door.

The sound of your body impacting the door rang throughout the hall. Strangely, the door collapsed after one hit. The sound of the door hitting the ground had a thunderous noise coming from it. You look at the door hinges and notice old damage compared to the new damage you just caused.

“What the?” Looking inside the dark room, you can barely make out what was a lantern light near the very back of the room. Biting your lip, you move quickly through the dark and turn on the lantern light. The suffocating dark of the room soon leaves.

Once you turned on the light, your eyes met an entire wall full of tally marks. A tingling sense of fear hits you as you look closer to them. They weren’t deep enough to be caused by a knife, so it had to be something else. 

Looking closer at the scratched wood, you see something embedded in it. Leaning down, you grab it and bring it closer to the light to get a better look. To your shock, it was a fingernail with dried blood on the very bottom of it.

Goosebumps prickled at your skin as the thought of who this could belong to had an unease forming in your stomach. You’ve never heard of this room, and you never heard of Kidd keeping prisoners. The room felt soul-crushing the more you looked around it. 

Books scattered across the floor, dust slowly collecting on them. A makeshift bed with a mattress and a few blankets. The bed hadn’t been made, so it caused more questions to roam in your head. If a person was actually in here, did something happen to them? If so, what?

The final nail in the coffin was when you see a spot on the wooden wall that looked darken then the rest of the room. With a deep breath, you slowly move to the spot. With shaky hands, you carefully touch the wood and the texture had a shiver running up your spine. You lifted up the latern light to get a closer look and you can feel time stop as you stare at the wall. 

There was no doubt in your mind that what you were looking at was dried blood and how some of it soaked into the wall. Your eyes even catch what seems to be strands of hair stuck against the nails that secured the walls together. Moving the lantern closer, you can see the color of said hair. The room tempeture seemingly dropped to zero when you see that the type of hair stuck against the wall was almost the same as your own.

Your heartbeat quickened, and you decided it was time to leave the small room. While grabbing the light, you see a white piece of paper sticking out from the floorboards in the corner of the room. Almost as if it was trying to be hidden. The paper moved side to side even though there was no wind.

Quickly kneeling down to grab it, you carefully pick up the paper only to realize it was a viver card with the name ‘Rayleigh’ scribbled on it.

“Rayleigh? Who’s…” Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard footsteps coming down the hall. The feeling of impending doom hit you hard, so you quickly scrambled out of the room before running away in the opposite direction of the footsteps.

~~~~

All you did was stare at the food in front of you. It was dinner time, and you still couldn’t get rid of your migraine or the intense feeling of unease. The room full of tally marks that contained an unknown viver card, the dried bloody spot on the wall, Kidd’s outburst, and Heat’s words from the other day all mushed up inside you. You didn’t know what was happening, but you wanted to eliminate the gnawing feeling you were experiencing on the ship you were supposed to call home. 

The thought of the tally marks didn’t help you when you remembered the fingernail you found embedded in the wood. While it was disturbing to see it, it was even more distressing when you looked at your own nails. The nail that was supposed to be on your pointer finger was missing, and it seems like it never regrew another one. Not to mention how hair with the same color and texture of yours was also embedded into the the bloody wood.

While it could be an eerie coincidence, it still fueled an unknown fire inside you.

“Hey (Y/N), you okay? Your staring at your plate, and you haven’t eaten a thing.” Looking up, you see Killer sitting on the other side of you.

“I just have a huge migraine, and I’ve been feeling really uneasy. I’m probably just tired or dehydrated. No need to worry.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” You snap at the man in front of you.

“Is it about Kidd? Have you talked to him yet?”

“No, I haven’t. He needs to apologize first. Treating me like a captive rather than a girlfriend.” Killer coughed, causing you to look at him.

“Ah, I see. I’ll go talk to him. How does that sound?” Letting out a sigh of relief, you smile at Killer.

“That sounds good. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Killer left without another word, leaving you alone now with a cold dinner. Even with Killer going to talk to Kidd, you still didn’t get rid of the unease. 

“Psst-(Y/N)!” You hear someone whisper next to you. Turning your head, you see Heat standing outside, waving you over. Quickly looking around, when you saw no one was watching you, you made your way to Heat.

“Hey, what did you need-”

“Eat this.” Heat suddenly shoves something against your chest. You quickly grab it before looking down at it—a yellow-colored fruit with an unnatural pattern and shape. 

“What the hell is-”

“No time to explain. Eat first.”

“You didn’t poison it, did you?”

“Eat it!”

“Okay! Okay!” You quickly take a bite and swallow to try to appease the man before you. The fruit's disgusting flavor hit your mouth, and just as you were about to puke, Heat stopped you.

“I know it’s gross, but you need to eat it all. It’s vital that you do.” Looking Heat in the eyes, you see a look of urgency in them. Despite how disgusting it tasted, you had no reason to doubt Heat, so you choked it down.

“Alright, it’s down. Now tell me what the hell I just ate.” You gag slightly before looking at Heat. 

“I’ll tell you later, okay? I can’t right now, not when everyone’s awake.” Before you can ask what he meant, you see Heat run across the ship without a sound. It was dark, so he was hard to see to anyone not looking for him.

“Heat you ass. You better tell me what I ate the next time I see you.” The gross taste of the fruit only stuck to your tongue as you whispered into the dark sky. The disgusting aftertaste had you grabbing some water to try and get rid of it. Whatever he made you eat, there better be a good explanation for it.

~~~~

There was an awkward silence between the two of you. You could feel Kidd staring at you as you faced away from him. He hasn’t apologized, and you weren’t going to talk to him till he does.

“Enough of this bullshit.” Before you could question, you felt his flesh hand grab you and pull you close to him. Your back hit his chest as he wrapped his arm around you, locking you in place. Kidd places his head on your own before letting out a sigh.

“Clingy.” You feel him grab your breast, causing you to yelp and hit his arm.

“Mm, not clingy.” Kidd moved his head to your shoulder before placing kisses along your shoulder blade before making his way to your neck. Even though you were mad at him, he always managed to make you forgive him by fucking your brains out. But this time was different. The way his voice sounded, and the look he gave you wasn’t something a simple fuck could fix.

“Us fucking won’t make me forgive you for the way you talked to me earlier. All I want to know is why you were acting the way you were.” With your best attempt, you turn to face him. His hair was down and his face bare, letting you see tiny freckles adorning his skin. You’ll never understand why he hides them. It makes him look so cute.

“Just worry.” Kidd moves his gaze away from you. 

“Worried that I’ll get hurt?”

“Yes. Happy now?” A red hue covered Kidd’s face. He wasn’t a man of many words when it came to expressing what he felt. You sigh before placing a kiss on the tip of Kidd’s nose.

“What are you doing?!”

“Giving you a kiss 'cause I forgive you. Just promise not to do that again, alright?”

“Fine, I promise.” It was a whisper, but you’d take it. You smile at Kidd before going to kiss every inch of his face.

Kidd grumbled before his face was as red as his hair. He always got so flustered when you showered him with affection. His cheeks would burn and warm up your cold fingers every time.

“Once we hit the next island, we’re going shopping together, okay? If you're truly worried that I’ll get hurt, you need to plan the day with me.” You softly spoke as you connected your forehead to Kidd’s.

“Why do you wanna go so badly? I can have Killer shop for you-”

“Killer has shit taste. Plus, I’d like to pick out my own panties. What do you want Killer to see-” Kidd pulled you down to his chest, your face smashed against it. 

“Okay, you made your point. On the next island we go, we’ll shop. But you are NOT leaving leaving my sight.”

“So paranoid. It’s not like I’m gonna run away.” Kidd squeezed you tight, causing you to cough.

“Just go to sleep.” Rolling your eyes, you press a kiss to his chest and close your eyes. Happy that he finally let you go shopping with him.

Your eyes flutter open when you feel drops of water hitting your face. The water pounded against your skin as you picked yourself up. Rubbing your eyes, you find yourself in a deep forested area caked in mud.

Standing up, you feel your feet sink into the mud, only stopping when your foot is fully covered. The rain slightly cleaned the dirt out of your head as it drenched your now shivering form.

You looked around, and you couldn’t see the end of the forest for miles. A sinking feeling settles in your heart as you realize your alone. You try to scream out for Kidd or anyone, but nothing comes out. Even when you tried to talk in general, all that left your lips was silence. Your heart starts beating against your ribs as the thought of being alone in such a dark forest makes fear fill you.

Just then, the smell of smoke and the feeling of blazing heat sneaks up behind you, causing you to turn around. Terror filled your body as the forest behind you was engulfed in flames. The harsh, pounding rain did nothing to stop the fire from devouring the forest.

To your dismay, you hear screaming coming from the flames before all black silhouettes of humans emerge from the fire. Your mouth falls open as you take a few steps away from the blaze, only for it to spread closer to you.

Taking a deep breath, you take one more step before you start running as fast as you can from the hell behind you. The mud clung to your feet, making it all the much harder to run away. You look behind you and feel your heart stop when the number of silhouettes doubled from the last time you looked at them. Their screams were ear-piercing, and yet, they sounded so familiar. All of them had the same pitch, and all of them sounded like they were in a constant state of agony.

You tried picking up the pace, but the fire only stayed right on your tail. The screaming getting closer as the rain hit your face, making it slightly hard to see in front of you. Despite your lack of voice, you begin screaming for Kidd to come and save you. To get you away from whatever hell is chasing you.

You can feel the flames lick at your feet as your tears mix with the rain. Covering your ears, you desperately tried to ignore the blood-curdling screams coming from behind you. The fact they sounded so familiar disturbed you as you tried to pinpoint the person they came from. Turning around to see how close they were, you could only ‘scream’ in horror when you saw yourself running at you. Different versions of you hunting you down. All of them have some sort of injury covering their body. The same injuries that matched your own scars.

You see yourself in a metal collar and a shackle chained to their foot. Tears streaming down their face as a look of despair plastered on her face. Another was limping but still kept up the pace of the others around them. One of them had obviously been beaten by the swollen black eye all the way to the minor cuts that littered their skin. You see one with a horrifically burned chest. It took you only a couple seconds to recognize that the burn was the exact image of your branding of Kidd’s Jolly Roger on your chest. It then finally clicked on whose screams you were hearing.

They were yours.

Turning back to face forward, you see Kidd standing at the edge of the forest line. Relief washed your body as you drew closer to him. He’d save you from the clones that chased you. He’d save you from them even though they screamed no. Why they were was a question you didn’t care to find out.

A burning grip grabs your left arm and jerks you back towards the flames. Countless more hands grabbed your body  trying to drag you away from Kidd and into the blaze. Their screams of a desperate ‘NO’ rang all around you. You were surrounded by yourself as they held onto you for dear life. Seemingly begging you not to run to Kidd, silently telling you to join them in the flames. Despite their begging, you ignored them as you escaped their grasp and finally made it to Kidd’s arms. A loud scream came from behind you and the sound of flames flickering stopped.

Turning your gaze, you no longer see your disfigured clones. The fire that once chased you gone, almost as if it never existed in the first place, the forest green and lush. Your heart felt like it was gonna beat out of your chest and your lungs burned, But now you were safe, Kidd would never let anything hurt you-

An excuricating pain comes from your stomach. It was something that you couldn’t even describe. Quicly looking down, you see a knife plunged deep into your abdomen and to your horror, Kidd’s hand connected to it.

Looking up, you freeze when you catch a glimpse of his face. The look of insanity stared right back at you.

He pulled the knife from your stomach before lifting it up above his head. His other hand harshly gripping your hair, making you unable to move. You pound your hands against his chest and kick anywhere you can, but he doesn’t move an inch. The way your blood dripped from the blade above your head had your heart stopping before your mouth drops open when you see Kidd violently bring down the knife. It’s only then do you finally hear yourself scream.

Your body jolts up as your scream starts to echo all around Kidd’s room, making the man himself wake up. 

“Jesus! What the fuck-” His words died in his throat when he saw you with tears pouring down your face. Fear swirled in your eyes when you turned to look at him.

“(Y/N)?” Your body shook feverishly as you desperately tried to calm yourself down. The room seemed to spin around you as you try to catch your breath. Only when Kidd grabbed you and pulled you closer to him, did you finally come back to reality.

“What the hell is wrong?” Kidd’s grumpy voice only contributed to your never ending tears. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could before hiding your face in his chest.

“It felt so real…I was so scared…” Kidd says nothing, only letting out a low hum. Indicating he’s listening.

“You were in my dream…” You say with a shaky voice before you hear Kidd’s laughter as he puts his chin on your head.

“Oh really? What was I doing?”

“You killed me…” Kidd froze before finally coming up with the words to say. 

“I’d never hurt you, alright? So quit your crying princess.” You let out a few sniffles before looking up at him.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You both lay back down on the bed, holding each other tightly. A few tears still slipped from your eyes before landing on Kidd’s chest. He starts rubbing your lower back before whispering in your ear.

“I’ll never hurt you. Never have and never will.”

~~~~

Ever since the dream, you’ve been extra jumpy. One wrong sound had you heart almost jumping out of your chest. The constant migraines didn’t help either. You just wanted to sit in bed all day and sleep. Unfortunately, overwhelming questions overtook you urge to sleep.

What was the small room and who did it belong too? Who was ‘Rayleigh’ and why was his viver card stuck in between the floorboards? Who’s blood was on the wall? What did Heat make you eat and what was he talking about that day when you both watched the sun set? Lastly, what was the meaning of your nightmare? It must have meant something!

Your head pounded and to your displeasure, you ran out of water and the cool towel you placed on your head earlier had now turned room temperature. With a groan, you slowly get out of bed and wrap a blanket around you. Maybe grabbing some meds will help. It’s been a slow day so hopefully the kitchen won’t be too loud.

While making your way to the kitchen, you hear Killer’s voice whispering to someone else. You carefully get closer to hear what they're saying, you're nosiness getting the best of you.

“Aren’t you worried? At least a little bit?”

“Why should I? The accident was 5 months ago and ever since then, everythings going my way. She remembers me and only me. Not the pathetic straw hats and anything I’ve done before she hit her head again!”

“I don’t know Kidd. You should at least have a plan in case anything were to happen.”

“What the hell are you going on about? What could possibly happen?” You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you bit your lip.

“I found the room’s door busted open a week ago. The dust had been disturbed and it was obvious someone has been in there-”

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” 

“I tried but you weren’t paying attention! So don’t yell at me for your lack of listening skills.”  A tingling feeling moved through your fingers before spreading to your whole body as you try to make sense of what the conversation between Kidd and Killer could be about? But one thing you did know now was that whatever room you stumbled into, you were never suppose to see.

“Board up the door. Hell place small traps, just make sure she can’t get in.” Another uneasy feeling filled your heart as you eavesdrop on a conversation that had given you more questions. What could have been so important behind that door that Kidd’s making Killer board it up? 

A pounding in your head started up again which helped you remember what you really left the room for. After taking a quick breath, you start to walk down the hallway where they ‘hid’. Just to see if they’d continue the conversation if you walked by.

“Oh, (Y/N)! What are you doing up? I thought you had a migraine?” Killers panicked voice rang in your ears, giving you the confirmation that you weren’t suppose to know about their conversation.

“Was going to the kitchen to get some meds. Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

~~~~

Almost everyone was asleep by the time you went out on the deck to watch the stars. Kidd was in his workshop no doubt while Wire and Killer were tonights lookout. It allowed you to have a nice quiet evening to count the stars and ponder on your thoughts. 

With a warm cup of tea in your hands and a fuzzy blanket wrapped around you, it was hard not to give in to the temptation to fall asleep. The waves hitting against the ship was a smooth melody that had your eyelids grow heavy.

“Mind if I join you?” Turning your head, you see Heat sitting down a few feet away from you. 

“You owe me an explanation on that wretcehd fruit you made me eat.” A quick laugh came from the man next to you. 

“I thought you might have known by now but I guess I was wrong. But what I had you eat was a devil fruit.” His words had you spitting out the tea you were drinking before you looked at him in shock.

“A devil fruit?! Why on earth would you feed me a devil fruit?!” You whisper yell at him while looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

“You won’t understand it all right now but trust me it’s going to be a big help-”

“No more cryptic messages! I want to know what’s going on!”

“It’s hard to explain alright!” Whatever Heat was withholding from you had to be something serious cause the way he was acting was starting to piss you off.

“Just tell me, what’s the last vivid thing you remember?” His question caught you off guard. Last vivid thing you remember? What could he mean by that?

“Go back from times from when you met Kidd.” Furrowing your brows, you turn to stare down at your knees.

Kidd told you that he met you after saving you from the other pirate group that burned your entire town to the ground. Saying nothing was left except ashes and smoke. With that being said, you try to remember it, but all you could see was fog. The same thing happening with other memories or things Kidd told you happened. All your memories were so foggy that it soon felt like you were missing a whole chunk of your life that you didn’t remember.

“Nothing. I…don’t remember anything at all. All there is, is fog.” Heat whispers a curse and you can feel another tingling sensation crawling across your skin.

“You need to trust me, okay (Y/N)?”

“Trust you? What are you going on about?”

“Everything Kidd’s told you? It’s a lie.” Hearing Heat’s words, your eyes widen.

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand?” The tingling sensation grew stronger as you try to understand Heat’s words.

“Kidd is not the ‘savior’ you think he is. He’s lying to you (Y/N).” The world seemed to start spinning around you. You knew that there were things that Kidd could’ve been hiding from you after overhearing his conversation with Killer. But is Heat was acting like this, then there had to be something more that you didn’t know. Yet the question still stands.

Why would Kidd lie to you? What was there to lie about?

“Don’t trust what Kidd says. No matter how convincing he may sound. I can’t explain everything right now but you have to believe me.” Heat grabs you by the shoulders and looks at you, the look of desperation filled his eyes. You can feel your heart beat quicken as you try to make sense of the whole situation. How deep could such a rabbit hole be if Killer, Kidd, and Heat knew something that you didn’t? You go to say something but no words leave your mouth. Every one of your senses was overloaded to the point where your body started to get fidgety and your breathing starts getting faster. 

Just then, you see a bright light before a loud ZAP could be heard. You see Heat recoil back shaking his hands as if to cool them down. Worry filled you as you go to see if he’s okay, but your eye catches something slithering along your hand.

With wide eyes, you watch as what you could only describe as lightning snake across your arms and hands. A low buzzing could be heard as you comeptley forgot about Heat in shock of watching what was happening to yourself. 

“Fuck that hurt.” Heat’s words went through one ear and out the other as small bursts of electricity started to accumulate in your palms. You quickly make a fist to try and stop whatever was happening, only for it to continue the moment you opened your hand again.

Your hands start to shake as you slowly move your hands together and watch as the small flickers of electricity grow louder and bigger. Heat’s words from moments ago lost on you as you couldn’t help but be memorized by what you were creating with your own two hands. 

The sound of it flickering reminded you of flames while you looked at it. The fact you were creating something so unnatural, something so extrordinary, had you speechless. It felt like a dream watching the ball of pure eletricity crackle in your palms

It’s only when it started to get bigger that it started to burn and shock your palms to a painful amount. You started freaking out as you turn to Heat for any advice.

“What do i do?!” 

“Throw it out to sea like a ball or something!” Without a second thought, you did just that and to both of your relief’s, the ball of pure electricity left your hands and flew straight out to sea. Small lights flashing around it as it grew smaller and smaller the farther it got.

The low buzzing quickly stopped and the small ropes of electricity fizzled out. Your heart beat still ran wild as you slowly turn your head to Heat, who looked just as shocked as you. No words could’ve been said as you both look at each other, astonished at what had just happened mere seconds ago.

To your dismay, the familiar sound of Kidd’s footsteps approached where you and Heat sat. You both try to quickly shake off the shock that covered your faces and try to act like you didn’t almost electrify Heat moments ago.

“There you are. Why are you on the deck? It’s late.” With a quiet gulp, you respond.

“I had another nightmare so I came to get some fresh air and Heat was already here.” A low hum comes from Kidd as you see him give Heat a questioning glance before moving towards you.

“Well your gonna get sick if you stay out here. Let’s go.” Grabbing your blanket wrapped body, Kidd threw you over his shoulder.

“I can walk you know?” You laugh before turning your attention back to Heat. He puts a finger to his lips before you lose sight of him as Kidd walks away.

~~~~

The sounds of peoples screams had your eyes shooting open in fear. What could be causing such a horrific noise? Rubbing your eyes, you let your vision adjust before you finally got a look at the hell that surrounded you.

Flames higher then the sky flickered and roared as it engulfed the buildings around you. The heat it produced almost as suffocating as the smoke that came from it. 

You look around, hoping to find the cause of the screams, yet no one was there. All that was there, was you. You and the fire that circled you. It closed in closer and closer as you breathed in the smoke. It burned your lungs as the heat soon started to affect how open your eyes could be. You couldn’t even hear your own breathing due to how loud the flames yelled around you.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps came from behind you, causing you to walk away. Whatever could survive in such heat was not something human. Through the flames, you can see a silloutte of a man. Taller then any man then you’ve ever seen. Due to the flames, it even looked like the man had horns and a tail. He looked like the devil himself engulfed in the blaze. Yet when the man finally stepped out of the flames, it caused you to step back and lose your footing, falling to the ground with a thud.

It looked like Kidd. But it couldn’t be Kidd. The man in front of you didn’t have a single scar to be seen. Both arms in a competely different coat. Yet when you looked into the man’s eyes, there was no doubt that the man in front of you was the man you called your lover. 

Your eyes scanned him and you can feel your blood freeze when you see his hands covered in blood. Fresh enough to where the blood drips down his fists. His boots covered in the red liquid as well. 

“Must be my lucky day. I get to burn down an entire village and keep a little trophy.” The laughter that left his throat had your body shaking. A sense of dread filled your soul as you unknowingly get on your feet.

The man in front of you started running at you with speed you could never compare to, yet you still ran.

Running through the flames, you can feel them eat away at your flesh as you try your best to run away from teh laughing man behind you. Smoke invaded you lungs as breathign soon became harder and harder. Your eyes scanned your surroundings and its then when you realize where you are. 

Home.

The building collapsing in on themselves causing ashes to float into the air. All the buildings that stood with you through your childhood burning to the ground. Not a single one was spared from the blaze. Everything from the homes of the citizens to the hospital was burning to the ground without a care in the world.

The sight was too much to bear and hearing Kidd’s words earlier had your mind racing. A trophy? Burning down an entire village? 

Your village.

No it couldn’t be right. Kidd saved you. He saved you from the monsters that took everything away from you. He couldn’t be the one to cause all the destruction that left you the only surivor of a village that had once been bustling with people.

“Your too slow princess.” A large hand digs its fingers into your hair and grips harshly. Your jerked back as you can feel your scalp burn as the man behind you pulled you to the ground. A sickening crunch echoed in your skull.

With your eyes wide open in seconds, you sit up and look around. Your breathing heavy as you see that your in Kidd’s bedroom. It’s almost pitch black but you can see teh sunrise peaking out in the horizon, casting a small light into the room. 

Looking to yoru side, you see Kidd laying away from you. His breathing calm and a small snore left him. His body covered in the scars that you love and knew. Yet at the moment, you couldn’t bear to look at him. 

With your heart still beating against your ribs, you carefully lay back down against the soft sheets of the bed. But instead of curling up next to your lover, you moved to the very edge of the bed. Anything just to get away from him.

~~~~

A week has passed since Heat confronted you about Kidd. Not a second goes by were you didn’t think about it. Was there something Kidd was lying to you about? If so, what could it be? And why? Could it possibly have to do with the small room? What about the secret conversation between Kidd and Killer? Who were they talking about? What was the ‘incident’ Kidd was babbling about? All these questions burned into your brain and bothered you every second of the day.

And it’s starting to show.

According to some crew mates, you’ve been more quiet and reserved then normal. Killer has noticed it too but Kidd hasn’t said a word. Was he holding back? Has he not noticed? He’s been busy in his workshop so maybe that’s why? You were hanging out with him in the workshop as well but he’s got all his attention on his trinkets at that point. Either or, the knowledge that something was going on and you have yet to figure it out what it is has affected you to the point you started to lose sleep over it.

It was about 1am when you looked at the clock. You had tried to go to bed at 10 but all you could do was toss and turn. Your eyes had slowly adjusted to the darkness and all you could do was stare at the ceiling. Counting sheep didn’t work and Kidd wasn’t in bed to give you some sense of warmth and safety. He was on watch tonight and the loneliness didn’t help your insomnia.

Even though you were perfectly warm in bed, Kidd’s presence might be able to help your uneasy mind. So grabbing your comforter, you get out of bed and start journey to find Kidd.

Walking down the corridors of the Victoria Punk at night never bothered you before. It was home so there was no reason to be scared, but now it feels as if a million eyes were watching you. Staring you down without a word. The feeling was suffocating as you try your best to quickly run out to the deck of the ship.

Once you were out on the deck, you looked around to try and find Kidd. There was a new moon tonight so the sea’s were even darker than normal. The floorboards creaked with each step you took as you continued your journey to find Kidd.

“Kidd? Where are you?” Your voice were quiet as you looked for any signs of life. It’s only when you saw light in the corner of your eye that you finally let out a breath. A small smile played on your lips as you decide to give him a little scare.

You tip toe to the light source and you see Kidd’s shoes popping out from the corner. Just as you were about to attack, you were flung forward, causing you to fall on Kidd’s lap.

“Next time you try to scare me princess, don’t wear metal bracelets that clink around.” Kidd gives you a smug grin before pulling you up, having you sitting on his lap. Your head laying on the soft fur of his red coat.

“Kidd, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Have I been more closed off then usual? Maybe it’s just the migraines and my lack of sleep, but I feel…I don’t know how to describe what I feel.” You throw the comforter covering you to cover the small part of exposed skin Kidd had on his chest. Moving your head to look up, you see Kidd staring back down at you. His amber eyes scanning your face.

“I haven’t noticed. Probably cause you’ve been following me around like a lost puppy. You’ve just been hanging out with me more as you should.” He wasn’t wrong. You’ve tried to stick closer to him, hoping that his presence will push away the questions that have raided your mind. It’s worked but the times where it hasn’t out weights the time it has. In fact sometimes it even worsens it. The thought of him doing anythign behind your back that could possibly involve you had you tearing up. And now with Heat’s words plaguing your mind it plays in your head like a broken record.

“You’d never lie to me right?” Your voice laced with insecurity as you grabbed his metal hand and held it.

“This about another nightmare? Told ya princess, their not real. What would I possibly have to lie to you about?” Kidd lets his flesh arm wrap around your body and lets you continue to hold his metal hand. A slight red hue on his cheeks.

“I guess. I’m sorry for bothering you so much.” You turn your head to kiss his neck lightly before snuggling on his chest.

“Good. Now go to sleep. I ain’t going anywhere.” Without another word, your eyes flutter shut, letting the darkness embrace you.

Your awaken by loud explosions and the ground shaking harshly, yet when your eyes open, you find yourself laying on lush green grass. Rubbing your eyes, you notice that your surrounded by the biggest tree’s  you’ve ever seen in your entire life. Bubbles floating all around you, giving you a small feel of childhood nostalgia.

Reaching out, you go to touch a bubble in front of you only for a gunshot to echo around you and simultanisouly pop all together. Jumping to your feet, you look around trying to pinpoint teh cause of the gunshot. The sound of the soapy substance under your feet had you worrying that someone might hear you.

Another gunshot rings out and in your panic, you bring to run away from the direction of where the sound came from. As soon as you were 20ft from where you woke up, the sounds of gunshots multiplied. Not it sounded like there were hundreds of shots being fired instead of just one. Fear coursed though your veins as your heart worked harder to pump blood into your system.  Quickly glancing back, you see hundreds of shadows holding guns and shooting them in your direction.

It’s then when you go to look up to the sky, you notice to your horror that the sky was black. A never ending black abyss that not even the blackest of nights could compare. You were speechless as you continue running from the shadows that followed your every move. It was a miracle you haven’t been shot yet.

You can hear bullets passing by your head as they broke through the wind. Panic started overtaking your sense of reasonas you look every which way to try and find a spot to hide. You don’t know how much longer you have left to run on your feet.

The familiar sound of buzzing hit your ears, making you look down. You see ropes of electricity moving across your body, causing your heart to quicken. What could you possibly do now? You have two problems to take care of now! Running from teh gunshots that threatened to take you down and now trying to control your new found devil fruit power before it gets out of control and ends up hurting you.

Before you could take another step, the sound of gunfire ceased. NO more bullets whizzing past your head and no more jumping to avoid getting shot in the leg. Whipping your head around to see why it stopped, you can feel your blood freeze at what you saw. 

A huge scarred red snake looking right back at you. It’s amber eyes staring right through you. Your words caught in your throat as the snake lifted itself up, making it taller than you by 10x. It’s body longer than any sea king you’ve seen. The sound of it hissing brought you back to your senses. With a quick turn around, you start running away from the giant predator. The ground started to shake as you could hear is slithering right behind you. To your horror, you didn’t even make it 10ft before the giant snake wrapped it’s body around your own.

Even with your body emmiting the cursed electricity, the snake was unbothered. You struggled to free yourself, but were no match against it’s strength. The snakes hissing simply got louder as it got closer to your trapped form. It’s eyes locked with yours and only then did it hit you who’s eyes they belonged to. 

“K-Kidd? What the h-hell?” You can feel the snake tighten it’s grip against your body as it opened it’s mouth. Two gianormous fangs protruded from it’s gums. The snake moved it’s head back a little more before striking towards you.

Only then, did you scream at the top of your lungs.

Your eyes shoot open as you quickly looked around. To you relief, you see the Victoria pushing through the waves. Looking up, you see Kidd sleeping, his arms still tight around you. Your breathing calms as you lay back down on his fur coat, your eyes never leaving his face.

“What are you hiding?”

~~~~

After teh most recent dream, you started to distance yourself from everyone, includding Kidd. You needed time to think, and time to control the power that digusting fruit gave you. 

So far, everytime it’s shown itself, it’s been when you were overwhelemed with emotions. It brought you to the conclusion that you might have to think og things that upset you for it to show itself. Which brought you down to the hallway with the small room was in. Even though the small room freaked you out to no end, it was far from everyone and at the very bottom of the ship. No one would be there so it’d be easy for you to truly practice wihout being interrupted!

As soon as you reached the small room,  you curse yourself for being so forgetful. Wooden planks nailed in front of the door along with a sign saying ‘OFF LIMITS’. This must have been Killers doing after Kidd told him to board up the door. You furrow your brows as you look at teh door. THere was no way you’d get in normally, no with how thick those boards were. 

Scanning the door a little bit more, your eyes catch a tiny spot at the very bottom of the door that Killer didn’t board up. If the door wasn’t there you’d be able to crawl under teh planks.  Your brain went through idea after idea before one finally had your interest piqued.

Looking at both ends of the hallway to see if it’s clear, you sit down and move your body closer to the door. Putting your hands on teh ground for support, you move your leg back before kicking it forward with all your might. THe sound of the wood splittering had you smiling, knowing that your plan to kick a hole in the door was going to work. All you had to do, was give it a few more powerful kicks, then you’d be in the room in no time!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

CRACK!

Finally, your foot kicks through the door. A quiet yes leaves your lips as you look around the hallway once more to check if anyone heard it. Seeing you were alone once more, you scoot closer to teh door to kick in more of the wood, just to make sure it was big enough to crawl through.

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

Splinters of wood scatter around the newfound hole in teh door. But you didn’t care, now you could crawl through and do what you originally planned to do.

Crawling through the hole, your met with darkness once again. You move around and try to feel for the lantern light that you had left last time you were there. WHen you finally manage to find it and turn it on, you stand up and take a deep breath. Looking around the room, you ignore the tally marks and blood, and get ready for your new ‘training’.

~~~~

“God this is much harder then I thought it’d be.” You didn’t know how long you’ve been in the small room, but it was certainly long enough to feel your body on the verge of collapsing. With a few last stretches, you get ready to crawl back under the door. As soon as you start moving towards the hole, horror washes over you when you hear footsteps echo in the halls. Heavy footsteps make their way closer and closer to the busted door.

You quickly move your body through the small opening, trying to get out as fast as you can. As you almost make it halfway through, a piece of sharp wood scratched your back and ripped your shirt, taking a small piece with it. Biting your lip, you try to hold in a yelp of pain. Once you finally make it through teh door, you knew you didn’t have much time left to hide. You desperatly look around the hall before a small pile of crates catch your eye. Quickly you manouver yourself to hide behind the crates as quietly as you could.

Once you were out of sight, you manage to have a small sliver of light that allowed you to peak outside your hiding spot and look directly at the door. The footsteps go louder and so did your heartbeat. 

“Fucking shit.” Your eyes widen at the familiar voice of your lover. Looking between the crates, you see him kneeling down, inspecting the broken door. You can feel your blood freeze when you see Kidd holding the ripped piece of your shirt in between his fingers.

“Heat, you are so fucking dead. This is the last time you play hero.” Kidd returns to standing and starts storming back the way he came. A deep dread fills you after hearing Kidd words. You needed to warn Heat! You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you had gotten Heat killed due to your recklessness.

You needed to warn Heat and you needed to warn him now.

~~~~

Once the dark of night had covered the Victoria punk, everyone had made their way to bed. Ever since you made your way back to the deck after teh events of earlier today, you made sure to always be by Kidd or always have Heat in your eyesight. There hasn’t been an oppurunity to warn him yet. What if you couldn’t warn him fast enough?

But thankfully tonight, the crew decided it was Heat’s turn to keep watch for the night. Hearing that, it was the perfect oppurtunity to warn him! All you needed was to keep Kidd distracted for a second. But first, you needed to brush your teeth since whatever the hell Killer had cooked left an unpleasant aftertaste. Kidd was following you to the bathroom probably to do his skincare routine and drag you into it like always. You didn’t mind usually, but tonight was different.

“Make anything in the workshop today love?”

“Working on my arm.” Turning your head, you see Kidd leaning against the wall behind you.

“Adding anything cool? Or just repairs?” You question as you brush your teeth. 

“Repairs.” His plain answers had an unease bubbling in your stomach.

“Kidd! Where are you?” Killer’s voice broke through the small tension in the room. 

“Oi! Give me a second!” You see Kidd go to leave teh bathroom making you quickly grab his metal arm.

“Don’t go! Stay with me!” Kidd looks at you and you give him a pout.

“It’ll be a second alright? What’s got you so clingy princess?” You wrap your arms around his torso the best you could before looking up at him.

“Am I not allowed to want to spend time wiht my lover?” Leaning up, you manage to press a kiss to Kidd’s lips as you stand on your tip toes. You can see Kidd’s face turn red before he grumbled and tried looking away from you.

“Your clingy.”

“Clingy cause I love you.” You send him a smile which caused the red hair man to sigh before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Love you too. Now, give me a second to see what’s got Killer bitching and moaning.” His first words were mumbled against your lips before he pulled away and walked out the bedroom door. You could thankfully hear them talking so it calmed you down knowing he wasn’t far and anywhere near Heat. Heat would be okay for a little longer.

~~~~

Kidd had been talking for awhile. What on earth could be taking him so long? 

After finishing your own skincare routine, you leave the bathroom and make your way out of the bedroom door. To your surprise you see nothing. But you could still hear Kidd and Killer’s voices. Quietly, you tip toe towards their voices, yet the closer you got, the more you notice the voices didn’t sound quite…human.

When you finally turn the corner, you feel your heart drop to your stomach. Instead of what should have been Kidd and Killer, was pre-recorded responder snails ‘talking’ to one another.

Horror filled yoru body when you realizing what’s happening. Turning around, you start running as fast as you could to make yoru way to the deck. Praying that Kidd hasn’t done anything to Heat. You cursed yourself for being so dumb and taking so long to realize. The sound of your footsteps echo the halls and ring in your own ears.

After finally making it to the deck, your eyes quickly scan around to see any sort of movement or light. Suddenly, a loud thud comes from your right and you see a bright light. Not wasting anymore time, you make a mad dash towards light and sound.

The closer you got, you could finally hear Kidd’s voice break through teh silence.

“You think your fucking slick?! Did you think I wouldn’t notice?!”

“Kidd, what are you talking about?” Another thud rings across the deck as Heat lets out a rough cough.

“I’ll be damned if you ruin this for me, Heat.” When you finally make it close enough, you see what was happening.

Heat sitting against the railing breathing heavily, red slowly seeping into his clothes. You turn yoru eyes to Kidd as you let out a gasp of horror when you see a bloody knife clutched tightly in his hand.

Heat coughed once more and you can see droplets of blood leave his mouth. You see Kidd getting closer to heat and that’s when you start running cause you knew right then that if you didn’t do something right now, Kidd was going to kill him.

Your footsteps had Heat slowly looking up before his eyes widen. Shock evident in his face as he sees you running in his direction.

“I’ll just tell the others you fell overboard. That’s all I need to tell (Y/N) and she would never ask another question.” Kidd moves closer to Heat still clutching the knife.

“Should have stayed out of things that don’t concern you. Now, you get to see what happens when someone tries to take something that belongs to me-”

“No!” Before Kidd could strike, you move in front of Heat and move your arms so theyre spread out to protect Heat from both sides. A silence fell over the three of you as Heat’s ragged breath was the only thing you could hear.

“(Y/N). Step aside. Don’t you know what he’s done? He’s a spy for the marines! He’s a traitor!” Despite Kidd’s words, you didn’t move a muscle. The tingling sensation grew stronger has you fear Kidd’s next move.

“Move (Y/N). I’m trying to protect you. Come here, it’s not safe to be next to him-” Kidd moves his flesh arm to grab you and before you could properly think, the familiar buzzing before a loud ZAP echoed across teh Victoria Punk.

“Son of a bitch!” Reeling back, you lover moves his hand up and down against his red cloak, trying to get rid of the shock.

“(Y/N)...” Turning around, you quickly move to Heat’s aid. You look around to see for any more wounds but only see teh stab wound that was stationed dangerously close to his heart.

“Hang on! You’ll be okay! Just give me a second!”

“Where did you get devil fruit powers.” Kidd’s voice broke through your panic and you turn to see his face. His face looked just as sinsiter as his voice. The look was worse than teh day he refused to let you off the boat.

“I-I..”

“You gave her devil fruit powers?! I’m going to kill you, you bastard!” Your hear almost stops as you watch Kidd stomp towards the two of you. It truly felt like another nighmare the way Kidd’s face looked. Standing up once again, you place yourself in front of Heat as you move your arms away from your side. Buzzing hit your ears and you can see electricity slither around your body, helping you by giving off a threatening aura.

“Don’t hurt him Kidd!” Kid moves his hand towards you and just as you think he’d gonna grab your am, his hand grip your hair and throws you behind him. Your body landing against the wooden deck with a loud ‘thunk’.

The air was knocked out of your lungs and your head pounded. You cough and struggle to regain the air before turning your eyes to Heat and Kidd. With eyes widening in horror as before you could do anything else, you see Kidd grab Heat by his shirt and lift him to his feet.

“Have fun at the bottom of the sea Heat! Say hi to the sea kings for me will ya?” With the rest of yoru strength, you pull yourself to your feet. You only took one step before you feel time stop.

Giving Heat a harsh shove, you watch Kidd throw him back, causing Heat to tumble over the railing. A scream leaves your voice as tears rim your eyes. Your legs move on their own as you go to the railing, hoping to see Heat hanging on, but the sound of a splash crushes your hope almost instantly.

Kidd turns around and looks at your shaking form. A look of insanity plastered on his face. You didn’t even have the time to register how close Kidd was before you feel Kidd dig his fingers in you hair, dragging you away from teh crime scene. 

“You couldn’t just mind your own buisness and wait could you? But that’s fine. I can teach you once more. I’ll do it as long as it takes, no matter how much blood that needs to be spilled.” Tears start pouring down your cheeks. The monster dragging you was not the Kidd you knew. Well, the Kidd you thought you knew.

Unfortunately, you were too late to see the truth, and Heat paid the price for your ignorance.

[writersdare]

Ghost of You | Calum Hood

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader (she/her)

Summary: It had been four months of silence between Calum and Y/N. Could she finally move on?

Warning: angst

Word Count: 1 496

Requested: yes

Author’s Note: I had two files for this work, and one of it had a name "experimental". I chose that variant in the end, so I really-really hope you'll like it. It's very new for me, the storytelling might be quite unusual at first. Remember that feedback helps me a lot to improve the skills, and it motivates to write more ♡

It was stuffy in a room, as air conditioner stopped working. Y/N had spent much more time trying to fall asleep than actually sleeping; when the clock on a blank white wall showed five-thirty in the morning, the girl realised there was no way she was going to try to fall asleep again.

Opened windows didn’t exactly help to ventilate the flat, however, she saw some thin tree brunches swinging to the left and right, probably, begging angry clouds to finally release the rain. 

Afterwards it usually smelled fresh, felt almost like a sudden beginning of a new life chapter, and Y/N, some other day, would love to simply wrap up in a blanket and listen to the sound of heavy drops hitting the glass. That exact day, though, the girl needed to leave home in the early afternoon for a job interview she didn’t even want to have, and Y/N hoped to get there at least dry. 

It had been four months of silence between her and a person she loved so much, yet, the heaviness in the heart remained the same. Y/N wondered what it was exactly about, and how she supposed to forget the guy, when everything kept reminding of Him. Every little detail in the apartment would echo with a memory of them that did not exist any longer. A stupid ukulele He left in the corner of the living room, behind a beige pot with a plant they bought together. Everything was as if staring at her, making fun of her. Y/N was, probably, going crazy. It had been four months, and she wondered if her insanity could get any worse. The girl missed Him, their night calls. She missed that naive feeling of being in love. She missed the feeling of being full, as the girl started to feel empty again.

Y/N knew that she needed to do something about it, to stop thinking about the past and finally move on. Probably, change something in her life, too. Like changing a job to the one she didn’t want either. 

Apparently, the universe didn’t want her to get that job, too, and since the sleepy morning Y/N only kept realising that the day was not going to be easy. A burnt tongue, when she was drinking coffee – the colour of His eyes, just like she burnt her heart when allowed herself to fall in love with Him. When He made her feel like it was a safe thing to do. Silly…

A broken cup, the one He used to leave cigarette ashes in, it would get under her skin so much. Y/N tried to fix it, just like their relationship four months ago, but some things had to remain broken. A missed bus, even though she was running after it under the noisy rain, and all in vain. She needed to slow down. She desperately needed it. 

Y/N took a seat on a wet bench next to the bus stop and sobbed, feeling like time has as if stopped. Or maybe it was her heart, she couldn’t recognise the beat of, once He wasn’t a part of her life any longer. Her social anxiety opened the arms for a dark and tight hug in the most inconvenient moment, and Y/N simply froze, feeling that sudden fear, covering her from top to bottom.

“I’m sorry… Are you alright?”

A voice, calm and soft, called for her, and Y/N turned the head to the side to see a familiar face. The rain stopped, and it wasn’t gloomy anymore. A guy with rounded face, dark-chocolate eyes, plump lips and short hair was looking at her attentively. He was wearing light pants and a baggy shirt; despite the recent rain, it was still hot outside. The cheeks were slightly red, and she wished to leave a small kiss on His skin. 

“Yeah,” Y/N mumbled a classic reply, but didn’t expect it to come out so quietly and dramatically. The guy even chuckled, probably, thinking that she was a bad liar.

“I know it’s maybe not my business, but I just don’t think ‘it’s alright’ if you can’t hold your tears and crying next to a bus stop. And it’s also raining,” He looked up at the sky. “Quite depressing.”

“Then why did you ask if I was alright at first place?” Y/N snapped and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Just don’t look at me if it’s so depressing," she glanced at the sky, and all she could see were pearl fluffy clouds. 

“I thought it’d be weird if I’d ask ‘are you not alright?’,” He noticed and smiled at Y/N shortly. “Hey, whatever it is… It’s all temporary.”

The girl closed the eyes and gave herself a moment, before whispering quietly,

"No, it’s not."

She opened the eyes just to see Him dissolving in the air.

"Please, don’t go," Y/N could only beg, yet, the imagination let her down once again, and she couldn’t hold on to that memory anymore.

Their first meeting was not romantic, however, it was special. Calum was the only one of the passers-by who approached the girl, seeing she was having something close to a panic attack. He wasn’t there any longer, but even in her head the guy took a seat next to her to comfort. She fell in love with his moles on the right cheek first. He was holding her hand in His, asking to breathe slowly, and all Y/N could see at that time was His eyes, maybe little too kind for the world. 

Too bad their fairytale was over, and there was no happy ending. Y/N needed to stop living with Him in her head, but Calum still was her safe place. Even if good memories brought the pain as a companion every time she thought of Him.

It wasn’t sunny in the head any longer, Y/N realised it was still raining like crazy. The girl was late for the job interview, but the were no regrets. In fact, she wasn’t sure what was feeling at first place, as when He left, He took all her feelings with Him.

Y/N lazily stood up from the bench, and legs slowly carried her to a coffee shop nearby, where Calum bought her latte that day. She was crying so much, even an almond syrup couldn’t help to make the drink less salty. Maybe it was even quite embarrassing, yet He made her feel safe.

"You know… Maybe it was all a lie. Maybe I just imagined Him," Y/N whispered quietly, making a sip from the cardboard cup and staring at the lacquered table. "Just like I am imagining you now…"

He was sitting next to her, having the same as she was. His free hand was placed on hers, when Calum sighed heavily and shook the head.

"Did you love him that much?" the guy asked, the voice was soft and simply pleasant to her ears.

"Yes," Y/N’s whisper left her lips almost right away. The girl had no powers left to correct Calum and say that she still loved Him, no matter how painful it was.

"Did he love you?" He asked, squeezing her fingers with his.

"Sometimes," the girl whispered back, remembering their sleepless nights and arguments, and small trips to nowhere, and tears, and laughter, and screams. 

It was exhausting. Their relationship was exhausting, He said once. She thought it was alright. She thought she was fine, navigating in a fog of Calum’s constant mood swings and small irritations here and there. Y/N thought she could save them, she was ready to sacrifice her life for that relationship, but in the end all what she needed was to take care of herself. 

"I have to let you go," she mumbled, still squeezing the guy’s hand in hers. "I really need to," Y/N tried to memorize the touch of His hand. The softens of his skin on hers.

"Stay for a little longer?" He asked the same thing she blurted out four months ago, standing in an empty hall next to Calum and looking at him with red, fully of tears, eyes.

"I’m sorry, I have to," she whispered his reply and broke the touch of their hands.

The rain was beating against the windows deafeningly. Her coffee was cold and suddenly too sweet to her taste. She was resting palms on the table, and it was quiet in the head. Finally no thoughts were bothering her mind. It was still dark and scary in times, yet, she could see the light somewhere in the end of her path. Or was it a beginning? 

She made her last sip and stood up, rushing to leave the coffee shop. Maybe in another life they could meet again. But for now… she needed to finish that chapter and finally start a new one.

taglist: @dgrangaa, @gracieboogirl, @yukichan67, @valentinehrts

– pics and gifs aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner, the gif found here @hellosanshine –

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

Masterlist | Taglist