#and the memory of what he felt corrupts with him as he shifts closer and closer to evil alignment and he becomes more and more possessive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hongthoven · 11 days

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Love me like you hate me pt. 3 ✘ hongjoong x reader (smut&angst)

❅ pairing : kim hongjoong (ateez) x fem reader

❅ rating : +18 | angst, smut

❅ warnings : violence, strong language, sex, mention of death

❅ status : chaptered, unfinished (chapter 3/?)

❅ tags&stuff : gang leader!hj, gang AU, stripper!reader, drugs, money, corruption, stripclub, violence, San as hj’s right-hand man and Wooyoung as their overexcited sidekick, San is kind of a sadistic bastard, heart eyes for Woo, graphic sex scenes incoming, joong is a rough little man with a potty mouth, Yunho’s there too and the most perfect boyfriend material as usual

❅ chapter wc : 4.5k

❅ previously ― part 1 | part 2 ❅ network : @newworldnet

please comment & reblog if you enjoyed reading ♥

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟑

“Fuck- who knew a single dude could bleed that much?” San chuckled, rolling up his sleeve to wipe some blood off his skin, taking off one of his rings as it was now closer to rose gold from being painted red.

“You did rip the guy’s teeth off one by one, that’s gotta hurt!” Wooyoung giggled from the front seat of the car taking them all back home, unbothered by the puzzled look their driver would occasionally give them.

“What can I say, I like a job done right” San teased once again, cursing a little as some of the blood didn’t seem to come off that easily.

Sitting next to him, Hongjoong was quietly staring into the city skyline as they drove through the night, failing to make any comment on his friend’s behavior when he would usually mock him for being a sadistic asshole with a thirst for blood. Still, he had to admit most of his regular income was the fruit of San’s hard labor and bad temper. While he had made a name for himself, Hongjoong knew most of his enemies never came too close because they already had been flirting with death too many times because of San’s fists. If he wasn’t exactly a role model when it came to act on the low and be discreet, San was by far the best right-hand man he could wish for.

“Who’s got your tongue, boss?” San finally asked, poking Hongjoong in the arm as he had never seen him so quiet before.

“Bet it was that stripper” Wooyoung giggled, mostly to himself, sighing at the memories of the girl grinding all over him hours before as he rolled the car window down to light himself a cigarette.

“Shut the fuck up. Both of you” Hongjoong coldly ordered, his eyes never drifting from the sight of a city fast asleep while his mind wandered once again to that club, head still filled with vivid images of that girl he had reluctantly left behind. She had never left his mind, like a permanent thought soon to turn into his new obsession.

Settling back into an ordinary life was always the hardest part of the job.

As she sat in front of the mirror in her cozy little boudoir, her hair into a messy bun as she wiped away the sparkly make-up that made her feel untouchable on stage, Y/N couldn’t help but overthink the situation she had been stuck into, earlier in the night. While resentment was getting ahead of her, it suddenly seemed like Yunho had been summoned into the room as he made a quiet entrance, keeping his back against the door as he simply stared into her reflection.

“How was your night?”

A simple question he always asked, rushing into the changing rooms as soon as she was done with her shift to make sure everything was okay and none of their clients had taken things a little too far. Regardless of his schedule, Yunho’s primal instinct was to check on the girl he adored beyond any sort of good sense.

Still, when she failed to reply, Yunho instantly felt his heart drop into his chest. Something was odd and the ice cold look she eventually spared him came as a confirmation.

“Is there something wrong?” He frowned, walking closer to her, his hands instinctively resting above her shoulders while he fought within himself not to massage her tired muscles from dancing and grinding all over strangers for hours. A ritual he had grown fond of.

“I don’t know. You tell me, boyfriend?” Y/N eventually dared to snap back, her eyes turning into little darts all aiming at his puzzled face as she emphasized on the word ‘boyfriend’.

Confused, Yunho suddenly felt like he had been thrown into an impromptu game of Russian Roulette, looking for the answer that would spare him the inevitable execution. There was no sympathy in her eyes, only a fair mix of anger and judgement.

“Care to tell me why Kim Hongjoong and his men seemed to think we’re involved?” she finally spoke again, unable to deal with the sudden quietness between them, especially when she sincerely expected a valid reason for him to think it was okay to play pretend.

“I never said anything about us, I swear” with a quick shrug, Yunho felt smaller than ever, almost pathetic as he stammered through the weakest apologies he could serve. Nothing felt familiar anymore, from her body language to the complete deception in her eyes. She suddenly felt like a stranger, someone that couldn’t wait to get away from him, and that thought only was enough to tighten the knot growing into his stomach.

“I hope so. Cause there is no ‘us’…” though he had been preparing himself for years, each of these words felt like a single cut through his heart, like a dagger sinking into his flesh until it hit his bones, tearing him apart until there was nothing left of him but a pool of blood where every single one of his hopes had come to die.

Without a word, Yunho watched as Y/N removed the remaining of her make-up, pulled her long hair up into a neat ponytail and gathered her belongings, scattered all over the desk only to be thrown into her brown, leather bag. Not only was he hurt to the very core of his pride, but the way she was now avoiding any eye-contact with him made it unbearable to stand in the same room.

“He- uh…” he paused, coughing to give himself some composure, supposing he had any left, “He asked me to clean your schedule for the week, so… I guess you won’t have to see my face for a while, guess that’s convenient”.

He hated how pathetic and whiny he sounded right now, but nothing had ever come close to the pain he was experiencing as he watched the girl of his dreams changing from her stage fit to her casual clothes. When every man in town would die to see her walking around in a lacy thong, Yunho secretly loved this version of her the best. The one in regular jeans, sneakers, and a plain white tee-shirt. The real her.

“Yeah right” she scoffed, unimpressed.

“I’m serious, Y/N, that man isn’t playing” any other day, Yunho would have played along with her typical rebellious attitude, calling her smug for provoking a man that held the entire city into the palm of his hand, but regardless of the way she had crushed his soul seconds prior to this conversation, he still felt the urge to protect her.

“And neither am I” she coldly stated, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder as she walked toward the door, ready to call it a night.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” she added without a look or a single sign of sympathy, walking out the door as Yunho remained alone, standing in the middle of the room, powerless and petrified at the thought of the inevitable confrontation coming his way.

Hongjoong walked home in the middle of the night. Nothing out of habits, for a man whose business typically ran after sunset. Throwing his keys and taking his jacket off as he walked directly to the bathroom, he could hear the familiar yet unsettling buzzing sound coming with the deafening silence of his place.

With loneliness as his most faithful companion over the years, he had given up trying to make this apartment feel like home; simply because he didn’t know what ‘home’ was even supposed to feel like. All these ideals of a healthy household had died with his mother and now, the only memories of ever feeling ‘like home’ were starting to fade away with time.

The smell of freshly cooked meals, the sound of her laugh, the way she always pushed his hair back to plant a kiss on his forehead, the faded sound of her favorite records playing in the living room whenever his father was out. This was home to him.

On the cusp of turning 30, Hongjoong couldn't ignore the tragic irony of reaching an era his mother would never get to experience. Though he would always remember her at the prime of youth, there was some bittersweet aspect to the thought of never seeing her grow old.

Sometimes, when he would allow himself to bask into melancholy, Hongjoong liked to imagine what she’d look like with a few wrinkles and grey hair, how her voice would change with time, what it would feel like to grow up with a loving mother by his side. Would he be any different?

While the fantasies would change over time, his father never made it to the final cut. There was no place for this man and his toxicity in the perfect picture of a lifetime with his beloved mother.

And now here he was, an orphan trying to make himself a home without knowing where to start.

His place still matched the mystery of his aura, blissfully dark, expensive, and fashionably empty. High ceilings, large windows and concrete floor made this loft the perfect place to hide, perched on the last floor of the tallest building in town with the most breathtaking view on the skyline.

Hongjoong often felt like standing in a lighthouse with nothing but the darkness of the Sea ahead of him. Nothing to be seen on the surface but a pitch-black sky sparkled with stardust. But if he dared looking down through the city lights, Hongjoong could easily picture a family. A couple. Strangers living their lives, enjoying the most trivial things of a routine he was always dreading to step into. A father helping his daughter with her homework, bending over a geometry book on the dining table, a little boy playing with his dolls in his bedroom, two lovers snuggling on their couch.

Pieces of a life he would never get to experience, only because he didn’t belong into a ‘home’.

Rolling up his sleeves to unveil his tatted arms, a few bracelets, and a vintage watch, Hongjoong frowned at his reflection in the mirror as he splashed some cold water onto his face, pressing his fingers into his temples, hoping to make the reminiscing stop. He wouldn’t allow himself to dive into nostalgia when his present already held too much drama for him to take a break.

Still, while it was easy to push the family memories aside, one thought remained. One particular face he just couldn’t blink away that easily.

She was everywhere, her voice echoing through his brain like a broken record. The way her lips curved into a smile as she teased him, her plump thighs hiding that precious mole he was now dying to taste, the softness of her skin, the way her body reacted to his touch but not entirely – not as much as he wished. Hongjoong wasn’t typically the kind of man to give a girl any second thought. If anything, women were easy targets to him, and if his good looks weren’t enough to attract them, money always was.

Money could buy him anything, and if this girl wasn’t kneeling for him within the next hour, someone else would have to do, for now.

Grabbing his phone from his slack’s pocket, Hongjoong was quick to compose a text. Something extremely formal with a few instructions. The usual.

She walked through his doorstep less than thirty minutes later, as requested by the man holding the cash in one hand while the other invited her in. Though she was a regular, Hongjoong never dared to ask for her name. He didn’t need to know, didn’t even care.

“‘been a while, handsome “ She smiled, grabbing the cash from his hand without bothering with a recount. Hongjoong wasn’t a scam, like some of her clients. If anything, he often overpaid for the ridiculously short amount of time she was here. Not that she would complain about it.

“Let’s cut the talking for today” Hongjoong simply stated, unwilling to chit-chat as he gulped some leftover whisky from the glass on his coffee table, wiping his lips with the back of his hand as he settled himself on his brown, leather couch.

There wasn’t anything remotely romantic in the way he watched the girl kneel in front of him, her hands already busy with his belt like a task she had been given, and nothing more. A perfect play doll following his instructions while his mind already wandered somewhere else, away from here, away from her, and with a much more pleasant company.

With his head tilted back and his eyes closed, Hongjoong quickly allowed himself to wrap the girl’s hair into a fist as he thrusted himself deeper into the warmth of her welcoming throat, a simple growl escaping his own lips while his head started to fill with someone else’s face.

He could see her clearly now, her sparkly make-up already ruined, black lines rolling over her cheeks as she gagged slightly with a mouthful of him. She was taking him like a champ, the perfect, velvety walls of her mouth fitting like a glove to his throbbing cock. Her hands clenched into his thighs, tracing thin, red lines all over his skin while his eyes couldn’t get enough of the sight of her exposed back and the perfect dome of her ass, peaking from her skirt. He loved the idea of having her fully dressed and already drooling over his lap, too hungry to even undress herself, too eager to be fucked.

It wasn’t long until Hongjoong found himself losing control, one particular swirl of the girl’s tongue forcing him to dig his nails deeper into her scalp while she welcomed his release through a guttural moan – and even then, his body still shaking with pleasure and overstimulation as the girl made sure to swallow every last drop of him, Hongjoong couldn’t help but picture that glow on her face as she would look up, teary eyes and puffy lips as the perfect signs of a fucked-out state while still untouched.

“Looks like you’re ready for round 2, baby” the girl teased as she wiped the corner of her lips like she had just feasted on her favorite cake, pleasantly surprised to see him getting hard again while oblivious to the reason behind his extreme arousal. While she had done a decent job, all credits fully remained to a girl who was most likely asleep by now, miles away from being the main character in Hongjoong’s filthy scenarios.

Was she alone right now? Was she even sleeping? What if Yunho had failed at keeping his promise? What if he was the one filling her perfect mouth right now with his palm resting on her cheek, her vicious tongue playing with his balls as he claimed her repeatedly?

That thought only was enough to send him spiraling, anger making his blood boil into his veins. If he couldn’t have her immediately, no one could. Especially not Yunho.

“I’ll call you a cab” his tone was cold, typically detached as he fixed himself back into his pants, the moment long gone now that he couldn’t get away from the disturbing images of another man touching his girl. Though it was crazy to think of it, Hongjoong couldn’t help but claim her as his now that she was the only thing on his mind. He could easily picture himself losing sleep over it and go beyond measures to get her. Even if that meant having Yunho and every other man looking at her, buried six feet under.

The hooker was gone without much ceremony. Not that the situation deserved any.

Alone again with his thoughts for company, Hongjoong eventually crashed into his bed an hour later, knowing he wouldn’t get much sleep that night.

Y/N had been tossing and turning through the short amount of time she was asleep that night. Struggling to find her way into a peaceful slumber after the chaotic series of events happening at the club earlier. While she tried her best not to be an overthinker, picking her battles over silly misunderstandings, she hated to face any discomfort in her workplace. The one place where she felt strong enough to handle anything. She couldn’t allow any turbulence in her comfort zone, moreover if that meant losing a precious paycheck. Something she couldn’t afford.

Stretching into her bed, Y/N looked nothing like the girl she was on stage the night before. With her long hair pulled into a bun gone messier over her sleepless night and her body wrapped into an oversized shirt that could easily pass as a dress, she fitted perfectly as the girl-next-door with her face fresh of any make-up.

Her bedroom looked exactly the same as it did years ago, when she was still a teenager running from school to her student job in the evening, trying to make ends meet so she could afford medication and a decent living for her grand-mother; walls covered with pictures of a younger version of herself with her friends backpacking through Europe, a massive poster of her favorite film, Moulin Rouge above her bed and a closet full of clothes she barely had enough time to wear with her crazy schedule at the club.

Her peaceful awakening was suddenly cut short when hearing voices coming from the living room. Voices she could instantly identify as her grand mother’s and the one person she didn’t want to see, especially first thing in the morning.

Tearing herself off the comfort of her bed, Y/N escaped her bedroom, reluctantly dragging herself toward the living-room where she was inevitably faced with her favorite person in the world and Yunho, sharing some obviously pleasant conversation.

“Good morning, sweetpea!” Joan was a 72-year-old woman living with early stage of dementia and the closest thing to a mother Y/N had been granted with, since her own birth mother had decided she wasn’t built to be a mom and bailed on her before she even turned two.

“Hi nan’ … did you take your meds yet?” Y/N purposely ignored Yunho’s presence, checking for her grand mother’s pill container to double check.

“Of course I did – Yunho brought my favorite pastries for breakfast, isn’t he a sweetheart?” She couldn’t blame her grandmother, not even when she reached for Yunho’s face, pinching his cheek like he was some good puppy playing fetch with her. Still, she couldn’t find the strength to play pretend, especially without her morning coffee.

Yunho watched as Y/N kept ignoring him, his rounded eyes desperately looking for her attention behind his glasses. If anything, he looked like the perfect boyfriend with his nice polo shirt and his perfectly tamed hair. A man she knew Joan was secretly hoping her granddaughter would eventually marry, regardless of her unwillingness to be wed.

Without a clue what to answer, Y/N gave her grandmother a quick nod as she escaped toward the kitchen, aiming directly for the coffee machine. Yunho was quick to follow her steps, excusing himself while Joan’s attention was back on her favorite morning tv show.

“So we’re not even talking now?” he dared to ask as he walked close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body behind her back.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Can’t you take a hint?” she was genuinely mad now. Mad at him for showing up and forcing his perfect boy agenda on her grandmother, mad at her for allowing him to feel comfortable to do so and for some obscure reasons, mad at Kim Hongjoong for making her feel all of this altogether.

“I came here to apologize”

The sound of the coffee machine gave Y/N some much needed break into a conversation she didn’t want to be part of, her hand clenching around her favorite mug so it wouldn’t fall off the counter from the hectic vibration of the ancient appliance she had promised herself to upgrade as soon as possible.

With barely enough money to pay rent and take care of her grandmother’s condition, Y/N was often faced with the most superficial cravings, like having a perfect espresso machine and decent coffee in the morning instead of whatever dishwater she was having now.

“So you do have something to apologize for” she scoffed, taking a painful first sip as she finally faced her friend. Yunho looked sincerely sorry, his eyebrows knitted together as he reached for her arm, hoping she wouldn’t snap again. To his own surprise, she didn’t move.

“I’m sorry if I made it seem like I was claiming you… I know you’re not mine… or anyone’s… I just freaked out” he paused, reminiscing the events as he recalled Hongjoong’s words and the way his eyes were glued to his favorite girl’s every feature. “I’m just scared he might hurt you… Hongjoong is a scary man with power, god knows what he could—”

“I am not a child, for fuck’s sake! I can defend myself. It’s not your place to protect me!”

Her mug was back on the counter, almost breaking from being smashed against the surface as she felt anger boiling inside of her all over again.

“That’s the thing. I don’t know my place. What am I to you, exactly?”

Though it hurt him to even ask, Yunho couldn’t handle the uncertainty of his role into her life. Still, when he was faced with complete silence, it felt like his heart was slowly dropping into his chest, shredding into pieces.

“I see. Guess that’s my answer” he added, mostly nodding to himself as he pushed himself off the counter, reaching for her face to palm her cheek tenderly “just be careful alright? If I can’t protect you, no one will” he whispered, almost painfully.

Without a word, Y/N watched as he escaped the kitchen, peaking through the door to see him kiss Joan on the cheek, apologizing for leaving already with some work emergency as an excuse.

Guilt only found its way into her stomach as the front door closed behind Yunho.

“What’s on your mind, sweet pea?”

Y/N was now sitting on the floor in front of her grand-mother’s armchair, picking at a pastry while watching a silver haired TV anchor trying to sell some miracle vacuum cleaner on the shopping channel. She didn’t know why Joan loved these programs so much, but somehow, the old woman found some thrill in dreaming about appliances she couldn’t afford. Y/N loved to think she was a hopeless dreamer while secretly hoping she would someday afford to give her grandmother the life she deserved. A beautiful house filled with all the ridiculously pricy items she saw on TV.

“Nothing, just tired” she lied while Joan brushed her fingers through her granddaughter’s hair lovingly, pulling it into a nicely tamed ponytail just like when she used to be a little girl. Sometimes Joan would act like Y/N was still a child, struggling to anchor herself into present, but Y/N loved her way too much to complain, even if it meant for her to play pretend and allow herself to be groomed.

“I really like Yunho. He’s a good man.” Joan suddenly announced, her bony fingers resting upon her granddaughter’s shoulders as she massaged her sore muscles slowly.

“He is”

There was no point denying it. Yunho was a good man by definition.

“I think he really loves you, you know?”

Again, Y/N couldn’t find a single lie within herself to deny Joan’s statement. Anyone seeing them interact could tell Yunho was madly in love with her, though he never said the words to her face. It was easy to see the signs.

“I know” she simply added, her eyes suddenly heavier as her lack of sleep finally fought back. Within a few minutes, Y/N was curling up against her grandmother’s leg, her cheek resting above her lap as she fell back asleep under Joan’s sweet embrace.

Hongjoong only left his place at dusk, escaping his building only to disappear into a black, sedan car with tinted windows. Streets had been emptied earlier in the evening when a storm had wrapped the city into a gloomy atmosphere no one seemed to be equipped for. Sitting in the front behind the wheel, San turned the engine off as soon as his best-friend sat beside him on the passenger seat.

“Found anything?” Hongjoong asked before he even greeted his friend, stone cold as ever.

“Well—her name’s Y/N, she lives in the slum part of town… From what I get she’s her grandmother’s caretaker… Not much about the rest of her family so far… Got her address, phone number…”

Hongjoong welcomed every information with a simple nod while San scrolled through a couple pictures on his phone, mostly from her neighborhood.

“Anything else?” he finally dared to ask, knowing his friend enough to realize he was definitely hiding the key part of his investigation.

“You’re not gonna like it, man…” San sighed, his thumb scrolling to the next picture and zooming in so his boss could see a clearer version of Yunho escaping Y/N’s building first thing in the morning—and though Hongjoong remained silent, the way his jaw instantly clenched at the sight of him was enough of a sign to let his friend know about his next move.

“How long was he in there?” he finally asked, eyes filled with nothing but rage.

“Couple hours, I’d say two for the most—enough for a good fuck, if you ask me”

“No one fucking asked you” Hongjoong snapped, pulling his gaze off the phone screen to watch the storm outside the window, his fingers fiddling with his rings while figuring out a plan from the new information he had just been given.

“Well that’s unfortunate” he added, recalling Yunho’s faithful behavior through the years and how he had proven himself to be a fairly loyal and trustworthy associate. “Now we’ll have to teach him a lesson…”

“Want me to kill the guy?” San dared to ask like it was the only option left. Merely a daily task he was used to, by now.

“Just make sure he gets the message for now” Hongjoong added, his fist making a beat against the car door as he tried his best to compose himself, images of Yunho and Y/N together filling his brain to the point he couldn’t even think straight anymore.

“And I want someone to follow her every move. I want to know where she is, who she talks to, what she eats, anything. And if Yunho shows up again, I want you to call me immediately so I can take care of him myself. Are we clear?”

“Crystal” San nodded, starting the engine again as the tension in the car kept building up.

“Where to?” the right-hand man dared to ask after a while, only to be faced with Hongjoong’s stern look, his eyebrows knitted together with a mix of concern and anger he had rarely seen on his best-friend’s face.

“You know damn right where” Hongjoong simply stated, his eyes never leaving the road as San quickly took the next turn, heading toward the club.

#newworldnet #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong #ateez

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skadee · 11 days

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𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘦

[ blade x f!reader ] blade in his feels, hurt/comfort, only you can bring dawn after his twilight surrounds

• now playing;; lapalux — without you

blade felt suffocating, yet again, in a dream that never started, just sucked him in, in a dream that was truly ancient and real, that surely must've been there since eons. and it chose him, and it had him, and had him, and had him and got him tied up.

the dream was of nothing, it was just of the feeling of something filling everything around you, it was just the sea, the great sea, sea of something only he could experience.

first, it was the great sea of pain. then it got dull, and now it's an abyss of nihility. absolute indifference. absolute silence. blade is silent, he is indifferent to everything and everyone surrounding him. he moves amongst crowds and swords and stars slowly, unhurriedly. and yet, and yet there are times and places where there is a storm raging and throbbing in his chest, cracking his ribs, squishing his soul into a great mass of agony of the remembrance. such a storm can only corrupt. c o r r u p t.

right you by force to suck you in

is existence in such corruption and state even worth space? is it worth the bloodshed? worth the energy, time and impacts he made throughout those eternal decades, centuries? blade does not know. sometimes, it is better to not know. it is better to not think too much about eternity he has in front of him, and which he despises and wishes to destroy. it seems, however, like there is someone for whom this existence is the very pure reason of why the world keeps spinning. there is someone who needs his existence. (his protection, no—)

to pull you under, tight

he shifted, silky sheets heavier with bits of sweat, his hair a mess, his hands gripping the soft blankets, his leg twitching uncontrollably at the memory of centuries without death and—

and ren hears your soft sigh, as you shuffle, your arm moving closer in his direction, in search of him. it has scars and well built muscles from fighting alongside him for such a long time. he blinks shock away from his crimson pupils.

you. you who stood beside blade, if he was in wrong or right, in light or shadow, by day or at night. it is you who needs him. and try as he may, sooner or later the conclusion comes that he needs you too. in such a vulnerable state you find him as you slowly open your eyes, which blade guesses are still heavy with sleep and unconsciousness. you're small next to him, more slim, valley of your hips wider than his but with thinner shoulders and prettier chest, prettier thighs. his shaky (but powerful) hand finds its way on your waist, where it belong. you huff.

"you up?" your voice embraces him.

"as you."

he hates that you notice that something is, in fact, not in its usual condition as you move even closer, your upper body touching his ribcage, your very warm breath tickling thin skin on his neck, arm thrown over blade's body. he turns head to you, you tilt yours. your lips drown in his in an act of a soft kiss. he stole so many of your kisses by now.

"blade" you yawn. "you should get some rest."

he licks over his teeth, stares up at the ceiling.

"didn't try it yet" the answer is dry.

you roll your eyes, opening your thighs so you can sit on his waist and snuggle into his hard chest.

"what is bothering your little brain?" you ask, making him close his eyes for a second.

when he opens them again and looks into your very own soul, it feels as if you're staring into two vast red pools, with sadness glowing in them like little fish.

"blade?"

"i regret making you depend on me" he lets out, his lungs doubling in size and then going back to normal when he sighs. "and making myself depend on you."

"so dark, as usual" you click your tongue. "the overthinking."

"it is not overthinking, it is more of a realization. i will not be having you for long in my life. instead, it will be more of a blink."

you smirk, your fingers tracing his sharp jawline.

and your words are engraved in me, so long as guilt resides here

"that is true." you admit. "i won't live forever."

blade bites his tongue, the sudden tide of sadness too much to handle. for now. for now, for this night, he asks for your comforting hold only.

even if you do not live forever, he does. he does live forever for both of you. for every comrade and enemy he lost over these long millenniums. out of all the things he forgot, there are some he may never lose. one of them is you. right? it must be you. you brought so much difference to his life, so much change. that chance mustn't be mashed into one with the mud.

come to the walls and writing, without broken hearts imprinted beside me

he knew love once. some part that is within him now, knew love once and once was enough. but you came and crushed the thesis down. once was not enough for his soul. he now chose you, you over peace, you over hatred and not caring. you became the one he dreamed to kiss.

"blade."

his lips ghost over your forehead, in an angelic manner. it's funny. you laid with the devil and now it feels like the heavens guest you.

"blade, i love you" you say, your voice weak and shivering like a leaf, but the idea strong and unmoving.

i do not want you to leave me

he will never (maybe) say it out loud to you, but he wishes he never met you, he wishes that in every other universe his sword pierced your heart before you could ever say your first words to him. just so he could never know your love, because he is aware of the fact you will be gone in a few years, or maybe less, and he will be alone, without you, without you, and the dreams of the sea cycle will repeat, this time, however, without you to steal yet another kiss from his dry lips.

i do not want to leave you

will this love ever be gone with time?

you squeeze his hand, you intertwine your fingers with his.

"you clearly do" he answers you, his voice stoic, filled with something you can't put a finger on yet. "i do not love you as visibly, i feel."

"you love me enough to show me your tears, ren" you lean forward and kiss away demons, nightmares, droplets from the sea of the dream.

you kiss away tears at his cheek that, in fact, appeared there some time ago. blade didn't notice. he does not make any deal out of it. he is tired, and he is with you.

i do not want you to leave me. i do not want to leave you.

his lips dance on yours for twenty eight seconds.

"i love you much" he promises, and you trust.

he kisses your eyelids, and you sleep again.

@skadee 2024

#honkai star rail #honkai sr #hsr blade #blade #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #blade x female reader #x reader #fem reader #hurt/comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #hsr angst

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jupiterwrites99 · 7 months

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You're On Your Own, Kid -- 13

Trust Issues

A/N: Short and Sweet to build up for the next one

“How’d you find me?” She asked hesitantly, she couldn’t hear the others but if he had found her, they must not be too far. It had been five days since she had run from the Uleys cottage, and Sage had no plans on returning. She was trying to find her way back to Josh’s house from memory, though it was taking longer than expected.

“That doesn’t matter right now.” The man grumbled as he crossed his arms. Whether he meant to intimidate her or not, it was certainly working. “You need to come home.”

Sage scoffed, “Yeah, no thanks.”

There was no way she was going back there without a fight, which is exactly what she was prepared to do. Sage had enough self respect to not stick around where she wasn’t wanted and clearly, Sam did not want her in his pack if he was willing to shove her out like a misbehaving dog. The words he had used to describe her echoing in her mind.

“Do you have any idea what you're putting Paul through right now?” Jacob argued, and her heart sank. Of course she did, she felt all of it. It's not like he cared what she was going through, if he did, she left enough of a trail for him to find her. If he was the one that had run away, she would’ve found him already. It's been five days, and nothing. No sign of her mate.

“He started it! He doesn’t want me…No one wanted me there, so I left. I made it easier for everyone else.” She exclaimed, the more she thought about the more upset she became. Maybe she was a runt after all and that's why Paul didn’t want her. Sage was spiralling and she knew it.

Jacob shook his head in disbelief, “He’s in love with you, Sage.”

“I saw him with your sister.” The younger wolf pointed out. The image of them looking real cosy with each other crossed her mind. She tried to control the small ripple of betrayal she felt, like it never left her.

“That's what set you off.” A look of realisation hit Jacobs eyes, before taking a step closer to the she wolf, his hand held forward with his palm up. A sign that he wasn’t going to hurt her. “Sage, he doesn’t love Rachel, he never has. Paul broke her heart, a lot, but she did it to herself by not leaving when he told her to go. “

Sage furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. His explanation lined up with Pauls, but it still didn’t make sense why he went to see his ex, “So why did he go see her then? He told me he had work.”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him that but you are the only thing that he truly cares about. It's time to come back now.” Jacob coaxed, and Sage could feel his desperation, so much so that she wondered if Paul or Sam sent him to find her. He was the one that got her in trouble, maybe they thought he could bring her back by making amends. Though in her mind, they already have. He apologised when he came out to talk to her that night.

“I can’t.”Sage shook her head. She had been a part of a corrupt pack her entire life. One that was quick to banish those who dared to defy the Alpha, or worse. She didn’t want to be subject to that hierarchy again. “I won’t be a part of Sam's pack, not even for Paul.”

“Why not?” Jacob asked. Sage admired his genuine question. The older wolf seemed to be the only one who cared, who even bothered to ask why. Paul and Sam just assumed she wanted to be in their pack because of the imprint, she never asked and now that Sam had shown his true thoughts of the w

Sage shifted uncomfortably, “He said I was dangerous, and I’m not.” She watched as Jacob opened his mouth to speak, and interrupted him quickly, not wanting him to agree with Sam, “That's not me!”

“Sage,” He spoke softly as the tears formed in her eyes. She wasn’t dangerous, not on purpose at least. She knew she needed to control her wolf better, but that was the only thing keeping her sane when everyone turned against her former pack. That's all she has.

Jacob wrapped his arms around the younger girl in a hug and she quickly tried to push him away, not used to the gentle kindness,“No!” She gave up quickly as he held on to her, “I spent my entire life feeling like I didn't belong in my pack, my family. I won’t do it again. I don’t agree with Sam, I won’t follow him.”

“I have a solution.” Jacob told her softly, asking, “Do you trust me?”

#paul lahote #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote smut #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x oc #twilight wolf pack #twilight #twilight wolves

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sailorshadzter · 6 months

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im late to the party & didnt get to do all the prompts

but i had to do this one. any excuse for me to rewrite this scene ill take lol

@zutaraweek / day7: forge

She isn’t certain how many times throughout the night she thinks this is madness.

But then his eyes meet hers and she’s set ablaze once more, burning passion that surges her forward, that keeps her pressing on. Through every encounter, through every moment, each one worse than the last. Until finally, after hours of travel, after a lifetime of waiting, she’s brought face-to-face with the man who killed her mother.

And even still, in the very end, she’s left unable to do anything at all. She wonders if that’s proof of her strength, or even her weakness. She knows Aang will be happy, perhaps even proud of her, and she can picture his gray eyes full of relief when he learns she did not take her revenge as she so desperately wanted. And truthfully, deep down beneath the surface of it all, she knows that would have been what her mother wanted as well. The last thing she’d have wanted was for her daughter to become a murderer just because of her.

So, she’s done the right thing, yet she’s feeling strangely empty as they return to the place where they’d left their friends behind.

Dawn is just barely breaking above the horizon when she slides down from Appa, who sinks into place on the shore for a well deserved rest. Katara makes a mental note to find him some apples to feed as her thanks for what he’s done for her over these last few days. Zuko turns her way when she pauses on the dock, but she waves him on, because she just needs some time to herself. And Zuko, somehow understanding her, nods, moving on towards the campsite, perhaps to carefully slip into his usual spot to sleep a few hours before their friends woke and found them returned.

Behind her, she’s unaware that Aang of course wakes at once, and she’s also unaware that Zuko keeps him from coming her way- again, somehow his understanding of her needs is far greater than Aang’s or perhaps even Sokka or Toph. For that, she would someday be thankful.

There on the dock, she sinks onto the edge, kicking her feet into the still blue water, unable to stare into her own reflection. She forces herself to think back through the memories of it all; her mother’s death, the pain of moving on… The anger, no, the hate she had felt for the man and the nation that had taken her from her. For her, the Fire Nation was nothing but evil, corrupt people with no regard for peace nor feeling. But then… Golden eyes appear in her mind and she looks up, surprised, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of the wayward prince. Somehow, Zuko had proven himself to be nothing like who she thought he was. Beyond what he’d done for her (not to mention saving her life more than once) he’d been fighting alongside them this whole time. And she supposes, it is easy to lose your way, to lose your faith… Hadn’t she just done the very same thing?

And who brought her back… Him.

The sound of approaching footsteps alerts her and she looks up and over her shoulder, unsurprised to see the very subject of her thoughts standing there. Almost as if her thoughts had summoned him, he stands there with a sheepish look on his face, cheeks tinted red as he runs a hand through his hair. “Katara… I…” He says quietly, watching as she rises up to her feet, closing the gap between them.

“You know…” She begins, shifting from one foot to the other, blue eyes rising up to meet gold. “I’m not ready to forgive that man for what he did, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to,” she admits, thinking of the old man he’d become, unlike the man she recalled from her memories. “But I think I am ready to forgive you.” She reaches for him then, embracing him in a way she’s never embraced anyone in her entire life. Though he startles at first, she feels his arms wind around her waist a moment later, drawing her in just a tiny bit closer. He’s warm, she notes, warmer than she expects him to be.

A moment later when she’s drawing away, she can’t help but to keep a hand to his arm, giving it a tender squeeze. In this moment, they both know one thing and one thing alone: something new has been forged from this embrace, from this encounter together. Something stronger than steel, something neither of them has ever experienced before.

It would be something everlasting.

#zutara #zutara week #zutara week 2023 #zuko x katara #my writing #i wrote this

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yanderes-galore · 2 years

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I’ll send my requests one by one :)

First off:

I’d like to ask for Detroit Become Human.

Character: RK 800-60 (also known as “Sixty”, “Tower Connor”)

Reader: Human

He’s confirmed to be leading more on sadistic side, so it’s gonna be an interesting writing.

Okay! I'll see what I can do :) I'd love to write my D:BH in the future, honestly. Of course, this takes place during Connor's DEVIANT Route.

Yandere! RK 800-60 Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Yandere behavior, Murder, Sadism, Manipulation, Playing with emotions, Implied possessive behavior, Corrupted sense of 'love', Obsession, Blood mention.

- You are close friends with Connor and Hank.

- Maybe a little closer to Connor than some would think....

- Just like Hank, you were supportive of the android's decision to become deviant.

- It was hard not to when Connor even showed an interest in you like you did with him.

- Humans supporting the revolution were scarce, but you and Hank did for the friend you trusted so dearly.

- Which is why it hurt so much when you met Connor-60

- An android that pretended to be the Connor you knew and loved.

- You were trying to help Connor with the Cyber-Life Tower mission but ended up being fooled along with Hank.

- You were in disbelief....

- Connor-60 even used your feelings against you to get you to trust him.

- Your Connor's memory was uploaded into him, meaning he knew your feelings for the bot.

- You were so naive when the imposter smiles at you, just like Connor.

- "(Y/N)... you do know I love you too, right?"

- You were played right into his hand.

- Unaware that this Connor was much more deceptive and sadistic than the one you loved.

- Everything he did was carefully calculated.

- To the point of getting you alone just to lure you in even more with a sweet kiss.

- Anything for the mission...

- Although, he'll admit, he can see why that deviant Connor also enjoys you.

- Both you and Hank are taken captive by this imposter to bribe Connor.

- You're just about in tears when there's a gun to your head in front of your Connor, his hand still ready to wake the android warehouse.

- "What'll it be, Connor? The revolution, or the life of your two closest partners."

- You now notice that smile on Connor-60's face is more sadistic than sincere.

- "Maybe I'll just kill you and Hank. (Y/N) seems like a nice partner for myself."

- The gun is shifted off you and pressed against Hank's head, you being dragged by the waist towards Connor-60.

- His grip is tight, possessive even....

- It felt so strange-

- Connor look visibly concerned and agitated at the thought of not only losing Hank and his own 'life'...

- But also you living your own life unhappy at the side of an imposter.

- "Keep (Y/N) out of this! (Y/N) doesn't need to get involved!"

- "Based on the reaction you're giving me, Connor, I'd say (Y/N) DOES need to be involved."

- A showdown starts, Connor engaging in Connor-60 once he's able to get the poser to let you go.

- Then you and Hank are left with an important decision.

- Which Connor is which?

- Your heart is beating fast, they both answer questions so similarly.

- You close your eyes tightly when you realize your emotions are being used again.

- "(Y/N). You can trust me! I love you, don't I? Shoot the other one. Then we can be happy!"

- The outcome can go one of two ways.

- One where Hank shoots Connor-60 and you live happily with Connor and Hank together in a new world.

- or one where Connor is shot, leaving you with despair...

- The shot goes off, there's blue blood that splatters on the floor...

- and Connor-60 grins.

- "Well done, you two. You made my job easier."

- You can't hold back the sob that comes out of your mouth.

- Hank himself is trying to recollect his thoughts and emotions.

- "You sack of sh-"

- Another shot rings in your ears, this time Connor-60 has a gun.

- His gaze towards you is cold and calculating.

- All except for that pleased grin....

- Even when he killed both of your friends/loved ones, he acts so damn pleased.

- "My mission is complete. By the way, I still retain the memories of my predecessor, (Y/N)."

- He steps close to you, you step back.

- You refuse to look at the bodies....

- "So what?"

- There's a laugh.

- "You can still love me, no?"

- You shake your head.

- "Never!"

- You go to run but Connor-60 grabs your hand, pulling you to his chest.

- "Give me a chance, (Y/N)...."

- He holds your chin, leaning close.

- "You won't notice a difference."

#yandere detroit become human #yandere dbh #yandere connor 60 #yandere cyberlife tower connor

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snake-in-the-garden · 1 year

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Chapter 4 is Here!!!

Banner by @chazz-anova

Chapter 4: Word Gets Around

Summary: Ramona becomes a special interest to Eden’s Gate.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Ramona Belmont

Rating: M (for now)

Word count: 7.1k (oh god...!)

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of past r*pe/s*xual assault, panic attacks, brief plane jacket slander, John and Jacob being themselves

A/N: Hey there...It's been too long since the last chapter due to me loosing some motivation to write everyday when winter hit. There's just something about the cold air and early night time that just takes a toll on me. Anyway I felt so bad about basically disappearing for months, I made this chapter way too long for what I usually write and it still came out like it was rushed. Ugh...Thanks to those who were patiently waiting to see more of Ramona and happy reading!

Taglist: @euaveri @turbo-virgins @eur0paa-2 @strafethesesinners @henbased @adelaidedrubman(I guess both of our girls aren’t special) @aceghosts @shallow-gravy @alexmalikplays @gxmergurl @thomrainer @lost-poets-poetry @svsunflowers @mr-krinkle @jfsfjjj

Prev. Chapters: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

Masterlist || Taglist

Read it here or on Ao3

~~~

"I think an apology is in order," Mary May admitted. "From me, of course." Ramona arched an eyebrow as she stopped sipping on the red, fizzy beverage the blonde had gifted her. "You strutted in them Jimmy Choo's got me thinkin' you were one of John's people," Mary May continued. "I thought Sharky had made the same mistake as last time and I just went off makin' you think I was some sorta bigot." Speaking of Sharky, he had just left the bar a bit ago to check if the garage in town was open or not. Ramona would've gone herself if Sharky hadn't insisted.

"This happened before?" Ramona asked, resting her head in her hand.

"Sharky had brought one of them Peggie girls in here some years ago." Mary May grimaced at the memory. "She started goin' on about 'The Father this' and 'The Father that' so much I had to kick 'em out."

"I assume 'The Father' is Eden's Gate's leader," Ramona inferred.

"Yeah. Joseph Seed. Some man-bunned, shirtless weirdo who convinced practically half of the fuckin' county that he's some sorta prophet," the bartender informed. "But he's not the only one you should worry about."

Ramona leaned closer to Mary May, bracing herself on the counter with her forearms. "Pray tell."

"Well the one you just met was John, the youngest brother," Mary May began. "He's the cult's recruitment lapdog and the reason they're able to 'get away' with alotta shady shit." She rubbed her forefinger and thumb together to indicate someone being in someone else's pockets. "Then you got the oldest brother, Jacob. You can't miss 'em. He's a redheaded biggun who's basically the muscle of the cult. And finally there's Faith. She ain't blood but she's just as creepy as the rest of 'em."

Ramona sensed the blonde wasn't quite telling her everything about Eden's Gate. If these people were doing "illegal shit," she wanted to know about it. But with the way Mary May's voice slightly trembled and her blue eyes kept shifting, it probably wasn't a topic she wanted to be pressed about.

"Either way just keep away from 'em. You don't wanna get involved."

"I'll do what I can. Though I doubt I could avoid John since I'm so 'fascinating' to him."

"Oh please, you're not the only woman who's rejected him. He'll find someone else to harass. Probably."

"And here I thought I was special."

Mary May snorted.

~~~

"I didn't think one woman could get you like this." John grunted at the comment as he laid out on the couch with his arm resting on his face. The one who made the comment was Jacob sitting across from him.

"I'm not 'like' anything. I just hate how fast those sinners can act when it comes to corrupting someone," John frets as he sits up.

"From what you described, I can tell she ain't the type to fall for your 'charms' so easily," Jacob inferred while crossing his arms. "Considering she'd rather hang around the redneck and the barmaid."

John grimaced at his brother's statement. "She was just so…vicious. Wouldn't even entertain the thought of hearing me out for even a second. She was gorgeous though."

"I'm sure she was." the redhead stated as he set his feet up on the coffee table. John glared at the action only for Jacob to ignore it. "But it shouldn't be your dick's decision who we add to our ranks. It's Joseph's decision."

"Speaking of which; isn't Joseph supposed to be here by now?"

The two brothers were waiting on Joseph at the Seed Ranch to give their weekly reports on their recent progress with their work within the Project and to have dinner later. John and Jacob were both sure that it was Faith making Joseph late. Before anything else could be said, the front doors opened alerting them to Joseph entering the Ranch with Faith following close behind. John and Jacob stood up to make their way to the foyer to properly welcome their leader. "Good afternoon, brothers," Joseph greeted fondly. "I have something truly important I want to share with you." The siblings moved to the dining room while John ordered one of the faithful who were stationed at a Ranch to make coffee for them.

As the siblings settled, Joseph let out a heavy sigh, bringing in the others undivided attention. "The Voice spoke to me the night before and has told me that a wayward soul would come to us seeking answers." He then turned to John. "I've heard you met someone today at The Spread Eagle. A woman with brown skin, long black hair, and a tattoo in the middle of her back?" The youngest Seed pondered to himself about how much Joseph knew of the incident; half hoping that all he knew was that they talked. If you could call what happened "talking."

"Yes Joseph. A serpent and roses to be exact," John started as he sat up straighter. "My men made it known to me about a young woman coming into the county and I went to the bar to greet her. But it doesn't seem like she'd be seeking anything from us."

Joseph stiffened. "What do you mean?" The other siblings could feel the tension settling within the room. "Did something happen?"

"It was awful. She was so quick to be dismissive of our cause due to those sinners and---!" John faltered.

"Please John, calm yourself," Joseph soothed while still ridgid. "What are you trying to say?"

John took a breath. "All I'm saying is as it would please me to cleanse her, this woman's soul is probably too far gone due to the corruption of--."

Joseph held his hand up; silencing John's ramblings. The Prophet then stood up to look out the window. Hands behind his back and lets out a sigh. "Hey Joe, if you don't mind me asking," the eldest Seed spoke up, wanting to take his brother's coldness off of John. "Why did the 'Voice' deem this woman so damn important apart from the rest of the 'wayward souls' we took in before?" It was already known to Joseph that Jacob didn't believe in the higher power his brother answered to and he didn't expect him to. All Joseph asked from their protector was his loyalty.

Joseph turned back around to face his siblings. All waiting to hear his words. "The Voice has told me this woman would bring about a great upheaval to everything we've worked so hard on if she doesn't see the light and come join our family to help us guide our flock through the Gate into New Eden." A heavy weight was suddenly felt by the Heralds as their leader finished speaking. It usually wasn't so difficult for them to get people to join The Project. Unfortunate people with nowhere else to go were easy to attract when Eden's Gate advertised love and protection to any and everyone. The only price would be their unwavering devotion.

"And by 'upheaval' you mean…?" It was Faith's turn to speak up.

"The deaths of our faithful by the thousands, the destruction of our community, and the…downfall of our family," Joseph finished as he grasped Faith's shoulder warmly as if not to lose her to an unknown future. "So it's crucial we don't dawdle with this. Especially now."

The weight the Heralds felt earlier magnified after the Father's elaboration. "We won't disappoint you, Joseph," John impulsively exclaimed, feeling that last comment was directed at him. He hoped his enthusiasm would make up for his supposed transgression from earlier. He then looked to the other two, expecting them to follow along. They simply nodded. Joseph smiled in appreciation of their loyalty. "I'm sorry if I scared you, but I just needed you all to know how important it is for her to join our family," he explained while getting up to leave the room. The others stood up with him. "If there's nothing else to be discussed, I think I'll see how that garden John mentioned the other day is doing before we start dinner." Happy to get his brother out of the room, John gave a quick "of course" and signaled two of his faithful on standby to accompany their leader in the backyard.

Just as Joseph leaves the room, John exhales. "I'm glad that's over." It was unknown if the other two felt the same, but it was likely that the feeling wasn't mutual.

"So, how are we doin' this?" Jacob asked. "Like Joe said, we can't exactly wait around for her."

"She just needs more convincing," John assured, not letting on what that would entail.

"We can't hurt her or anything," Faith chimed in. "The Father wouldn't like that."

"I know!" he retorted, causing her to make an amused noise at his reaction. "We're just going to have to be smart about this."

We're? Jacob and Faith weren't usually included when it came to recruiting people for the Project, but they weren't going to question anything John was about to suggest. Especially since time was of the essence.

~~~

It looked exactly how it did in the pictures. One story, simple porch with a swing, huge front yard, a garage shed big enough for Rosa, and a field across the road. Ramona didn't know if she should be relieved to have finally made it to her new home or regretful for making such an impulsive decision. How was she going to manage a house like this? She knows it's already furnished, but there were other things she probably should've considered before coming here. A reliable food source, job security, clothing, and--!

"Hey, what's up? Thought I lost you for a second," Sharky exclaimed, waving his hand in front of Ramona's face and interrupting her frantic thoughts. She had forgotten that he was even here, which was kind of bad of her to do since if it wasn't for him, she would still be stuck on the side of the road. "Sorry Sharky. I was just taking it all in," Ramona explained while trying not to get put off by the blue eyes studying her face. "Thank you for doing this for me by the way. You probably had other things to do rather than help me." Sharky rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. "Nah it was nothin'. But to tell you the truth, I was supposed to meet up with my cousin Hurk…" He frowned as he checked his watch. "...two hours ago." Ramona noticed the negative shift in his tone of voice and decided she had taken enough of his time. Most of that time being used to get a new battery, driving back to Rosa to install it, and then following Sharky here.

"Then you should probably get going. You don't want to keep him waiting."

"It's alright. I can help with your bags."

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

An unpleasant memory took hold just after Sharky made his offer. She turned her back. "No. You've done enough. Please leave."

Sharky exhaled noisily through his pursed lips and abruptly took a step backwards away from the woman's sudden coldness. For Ramona, it was already bad enough she had to show some guy she just met where she was going to be living, now he wanted to come inside? Alone with her? No way. "Alright. That's fine. I see where you're gettin' at. I'll go," Sharky complied, sounding dismayed. For a split second, Ramona wanted to turn around to say she had changed her mind. But when she actually did, he was already heading back to his truck. Accepting her missed chance, Ramona trudges on to Rosa to finally unload her. "Hey 'Mona!" She turned her attention to Sharky, who Ramona thought would've left already.

"Welcome to Hope County!" There was that crooked smile again.

And with that, Sharky takes off in his truck leaving Ramona confused about how this guy felt about her. It wasn't too much of a concern, but it was pretty weird for someone to shake off having the cold shoulder being directed at them. Oh well.

~~~

"Mrs. Belmont, I know you're upset, but I don't think we can classify this incident as anything more than a misunderstanding turning into a physical altercation." An older, timid man's voice is heard. "Happens all the time with students."

"Bullshit. This 'misunderstanding' scarred my baby's face because she didn't want some nasty boy putting his hands on her." Ramona then hears the outraged voice of her mother.

"The other student has already claimed in his statement that you're daughter fell after--"

"After he tried to rape her."

Ramona heard a huff of frustration next to her followed by a gentle hand rubbing her back after hearing her mother spit out the accusation. It was the soothing hand of Ramona's father who had let his wife handle the meeting.

"It's gonna be okay Rammy." After hearing her father's words, Ramona turned her head to see his reassuring face.

But she never gets to as Ramona's dream fades to white. She wakes up to an unfamiliar ceiling which gets her heart racing. Ramona shoots up from her laying position and frantically looks around her new home only to realize she fell asleep on the couch. Ramona puts her head in her hands to calm herself, feeling moisture on her palms. It's okay. Waking up to tears in her eyes after having that dream wasn't anything new for her.

You're okay. You're okay.

Ramona's legs wobbled a bit as she stood up to see one of her unpacked bags at her feet. She sighed to herself realizing all the work which still needed to be done. The woman looked at her phone to see that it was almost 10:30 pm, realized she'd napped for way too long, and decided all that would be "next day Ramona's" problem. It was time for bed anyway. Ramona did her usual nighttime hair routine, brushed her teeth, and changed into one of the sets of pajamas she'd brought. Ramona didn't think much of her new bedroom. It was simple and minimally decorated with the essentials. Basically a blank canvas setup for her to project herself on to make this house into a home. Her home. Ramona settled into bed and tried to ignore the slight musty smell the comforter gave off. Maybe she'll finish that dream.

~~~

It was the crack of dawn when Ramona was able to call her parents, letting them know she made it to Hope County okay. But that was after multiple "fine's", "alright's", and "okay's" in response to her mother's light scolding about not calling sooner and her father's repetitive questions about Rosa's condition. Even though she wasn't able to get a full sentence in, hearing her parent's voices soothed Ramona's nerves. Somehow during their conversation, her mother mentioned a letter left somewhere in the house for her to read. Ramona assured her she'd read it later.

The woman was now free to assess what she needed to do for today. The lingering smell of must and her stomach growling suggested her first two tasks of the day. Good thing she remembered the general store in Fall's End. As she combed out her hair, a loud, rapid knocking was heard, startling Ramona. Who could that be? No seriously. Who else knows she's living here besides Sharky? She doubts he'd come back after being on the receiving end of her iciness from yesterday but anything could happen. If it is him, Ramona would just take this as an opportunity to apologize. Something told her Sharky would accept it.

The knocking continued to Ramona's annoyance as she quickly threw on a hoodie while hurrying to the front door. The woman then frowned when she opened the door and saw it was actually John, holding a thick white book under his arm, who decided to drop by. Along with two other men, both wearing white uniforms, who were of course, glaring at her. "Good morning," John greeted, showing off that smile again.

"Uh…good morning to you too?" It was the only thing Ramona could say after believing she wouldn't see this man again anytime soon. "What brings you by?"

John gave out a light chuckle. "I didn't mean to disturb you so early, but I felt it was imperative for you and I to make amends after what happened yesterday," he informed while inching closer to her. "May I come in? I was hoping we could talk some more too."

Ramona held out her hand; palm almost touching her visitor's chest. "You and I are good out here."

"PIease, I must insist. I want to make this right with you."

"And I must insist we're good out here." Ramona closes the door behind her and leans against it to make her point even clearer. "So let's talk."

Why are the men around here so eager to come into my home? John let out a soft sigh and clutched his book. "Alright. Have it your way then." He then signaled his men to step away from them so the two could have some privacy. The men nodded and obeyed without a second thought. "Now let me start off by saying I'm sorry for how…brash I was yesterday at the bar," John offered. "It was shameful of me to make such a bad first impression on you." Despite how obvious it was that John could have other intentions behind this, Ramona could at least hear some remorse in his voice. But she couldn't let her guard down just yet.

"Well John, I appreciate you coming to--."

John casually cuts her off. "I would also like to take this opportunity to properly introduce to you the key to your salvation." He cradled the white hardcover within his forearm, proudly presenting it to Ramona. "Without any distractions." It was titled The Word of Joseph.

There it is.

Ramona wasn't too enthused about having to listen to a possible cult member's spiel about her needing to be "saved." She's still not sure from what exactly. John had hastily mentioned the Collapse yesterday which sparked her curiosity. Ramona nodded, indicating to her guest that he could start. "Eden's Gate is a loving community for lost souls who have been wronged by the world and corrupted by sin," John commenced. "It is our job to cleanse those of their sins in order for them to enter through the Gate after the Collapse so that we can create a new world." Ramona crossed her arms after hearing what sounded like another one of those "it's the end times so give us your money" pitches televangelists like to use. "Is that what you think I am; a 'lost soul'?" Ramona questioned. "What makes you think this? We literally just met yesterday." John tucked the book back under his arm and straightened up the tacky looking jacket he was wearing; preparing for another pitch.

"My older brother Joseph, or The Father as he's lovingly referred to, has recently told my siblings and I you were meant to join our family," John informed, again stepping closer. "A wayward soul looking for a place in the world. Something we could provide for you."

Ramona put her hands on her hips. "Again, I ask. What makes you think that?" she asks, increasingly getting more annoyed.

"Impatient, aren't we?" he commented teasingly. "I saw you were a young woman traveling alone, willing to practically jump into the arms of anyone who looked your way. No matter how unsavory their true intentions were." John's tone darkens at the last part.

Ramona rolled her eyes at his claim. Yes, it was true she impulsively got into a car with a complete stranger, but she didn't have a choice. Plus Sharky respected her boundaries right off the bat when she established them. "I never 'jumped' into anyone's arms. I was offered help and I took it," Ramona retorted. Possibly a little too defensively. "Besides, it's none of your business I'm traveling alone." John took another step closer, causing her to step back. "Actually, we at Eden's Gate make it our business to keep those vulnerable enough from being dragged down into the trenches of sin," John states eerily, his blue gaze momentarily stunning the woman. "And Miss. Fairgrave was willing to do just that." Ramona's ears perked up when he mentioned Mary May.

"What does she have to do with anything?"

"Miss. Fairgrave and I had our…quarrels in the past."

"Quarrels? What happened?"

"She just couldn't accept her brother wanting to be with us. Obviously envious of the close bond he had with the rest of the congregation and tried so desperately to take that happiness away from him."

Ramona was silent; recounting how hateful Mary May was of Peggies and wondering if what John was saying was even true. Probably not.

John continued. "To cope with this, she and her lot spread lies about Eden's Gate to anyone who would believe them."

"Right…So the claim of you using money to get whatever Eden's Gate is doing around legal barriers is not true then?"

With the way John immediately frowned and glowered after the woman's probing question; it was obvious she made a mistake. "I don't mean any harm. I just need to know what--." Ramona's explanation was cut short as John abruptly strides forward to firmly thrust the book against her chest, causing her to be essentially trapped between her guest and the front door hard on her shoulder blades. Causing her to panic. "We do what is necessary to secure the future of Eden's Gate," John said harshly, increasing the pressure on Ramona's chest causing her. "Some may not agree with our methods, but I assure you, Miss. 'Bel-mawn', you will reconsider your ill-conceived notions about us if you take the time to listen." Along with being blindsided by John's sudden ambush, Ramona's blood ran cold when her last name, though mispronounced, fell from John's lips. She had never told him her name and had made it quite clear he didn't deserve to know yesterday. It was doubtful either Mary May or Sharky had told John; especially since she didn't even tell them her last name.

"Who told you my last name?" Ramona demanded, strained and on the verge of having a panic attack.

"This residence's previous owner," John complied. "Your uncle."

James! "How do you know him?" she pressed.

"I didn't personally know him. But a few years ago I paid him and his wife a visit to welcome them to the county and introduce them to Eden's Gate."

Ramona continued staring at him. "Go on."

"Well I couldn't really give a proper introduction due to him interrupting me with stories of his travels which ultimately lead him here. And his wife…spirited…shooed me out saying they weren't interested and they never will be," John reminisced bitterly. Possibly showing a bit of his true self.

Ramona had to fight to keep her face from cracking into a smile at the thought of James and Jackie giving John the runaround to avoid his proselytizing. She almost forgot her current situation. He continued. "But through all that nonsense, your uncle kept bringing up a certain someone. Someone I thought I'd never run into after all this time." John took a moment to caress a loose raven tress belonging to his captive before he got close to her ear.

"His favorite niece; Ramona Octavia Belmont," he chillingly whispered.

Ramona thought nothing of it when she gathered her strength and sent John tumbling backwards off the porch and onto the ground. Her personal space had been violated far enough. After hearing their superior's yelps of pain as he landed, the men rushed to John's aid.

"Brother John! Are you okay!?" one fretted.

"How dare you lay your filthy hands upon our Baptist!?" the other scolded.

"You're unworthy in receiving the Father's Word!" the first one accused.

Ramona remained on the porch, looking down at them heavily panting, only getting more pissed off. "Here, take it then!" the irate woman shouted while throwing John's "gift" near them. "Tell Joseph he's got the wrong woman 'cause I don't want the 'key to my salvation' if it means I have to deal with some creep who doesn't know the meaning of personal space!" Ramona would be lying if she didn't think seeing John flat on his ass in the dirt was amusing, but of course, in a moment of clarity, she realized this was the exact opposite of what she was advised to do. That clarity caused Ramona to almost immediately regret her actions when she realized she could be arrested for this. Even if John was the one who started it. The woman's heart started to pound as she braced for his reaction, but John just sat there hanging his head. Ramona thought about saying something to him but decided against it assuming she'd just make it worse for herself.

"You know Miss. Belmont. All of that…anger you harbor deep inside needs to be cleansed. Which I as your future Baptist will personally see to," John affirmed, ignoring the insult while sporting a wicked, chilling smile. Ramona felt a slight surge of nausea. "The Project has a place for you, especially someone of your profession. A social worker who gives counsel to those in need is someone who'd be perfect for us." Ramona just stood there unimpressed by his shallow praises and also wondering how much James had told this man about her. "If you're offering me a job, I'll have to decline," she dismissed while stepping a few paces forward. One of John's men quickly helped him up while the other scrambled to collect the sullied book from the dusty ground. Both looked hopeful to see him stand up against his assailant. John proceeded to casually dust himself off.

"Are you sure that is a wise decision to make? Financially managing a property of this size might be too much for one woman. Perhaps I could take it off your--," John began.

"No, that's not happening. Besides, it's already paid off," Ramona shot back, taking her turn to interrupt him for a change. "In fact, I have the documents to show for it."

"I bet you do," he responded sourly. "But you are sorely mistaken if you really think material possessions will help you during the Collapse."

"Then what will help, huh?" she challenged, hotly. "Tell me so you can leave already."

To Ramona's surprise, John didn't retort with a quick remark at her prodding. All the man did was signal to his men to hand him the book. The order is followed and John once again presents his gift to Ramona. "Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way," he states. "I believe you should hear it from the Father himself. He's better at this." The way John said that made it obvious he was getting tired of her too. Ramona looks down at the book. "Huh? I thought I made myself clear I didn't want the--." John held his hand up. "I know. I'm telling you the Father is giving a sermon about the Collapse this Sunday and will be delighted to answer any questions you may have. The address is behind the front cover," he noted earnestly. "But if you choose not to come, will you at least take his Word? I won't bother anymore after today if you do." Ramona sighed and promptly took the book from him, doubting he'd even keep his promise.

"I'll at least think about it. But if I do come to the sermon, it won't mean I'm joining your cult."

"It's not a--! Of course. But every cynic I've met says that at first, but then sees the light after they hear--."

"I mean it! I'm only going for myself and for you to leave me alone."

"So you will be attending?"

"Get off my property!"

While slightly startled by Ramona's outburst, John kept his promise as he and his men made their way back to the white truck they came in. "Farewell Miss. Belmont, I hope to see you this Sunday," John bids. The woman didn't say anything back as she stormed back into her house and slammed the door behind her. Ramona let out a short cry of frustration when she angrily threw the book a few feet away from herself, causing a harsh, loud thud on the wooden floor kicking dust up. She pressed her back against the front door and slid down to the floor when her legs felt weak. Reeling from the ordeal, dizziness and a rapid heart rate from earlier took hold while a ringing noise resonated within her head. Ramona started to feel hot and short of breath, so she clumsily removed her hoodie for supposed relief. But it wasn't enough. The pounding in her chest causes her to curl up on the floor, trembling and hyperventilating. The combinations of these symptoms were all too familiar to Ramona as a quick memory of her alone in her college dorm in the same position flashed in her mind. Despite the pains in her chest and nausea, Ramona forces herself to sit up halfway to regain control.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He can't hurt you. You are safe now. As Ramona inhaled and exhaled, she thought back to all the times she had to do this exercise to get through the first part of freshman year. She hoped these episodes won't be a common occurrence since Ramona wanted a fresh start, but achieving that seemed impossible now. Although Ramona had told John "no" to joining Eden's Gate and denied their "prophecy," she still made it known her interest was piqued; so it was likely they would still try to convince her. The dulling ache in her chest and decreasing heart rate allowed Ramona to sit up fully and the softening buzzing in her ear and her body stabilizing enabled her to think clearly. Ramona decided it would probably be best to listen to Mary May's advice more carefully and avoid them as much as possible--starting now.

~~~

Finding the way back to Fall's End wasn't difficult. A few left turns and then a left was easy for Ramona to remember which is going to be important since the general store might be her only source for food and other essentials she'll need in the future. After finding an appropriate parking place for Rosa, the woman made her way into the store. She made note of the small size and the Americana decor; hoping the store owner's patriotism was just an aesthetic. To Ramona's surprise, she didn't draw any attention to herself like yesterday. She figured dressing in Hope County-appropriate attire she found in the closet would do that. Thanks Auntie. As Ramona proceeded to fulfill her shopping list of necessities, she overheard two people, a man and a woman dressed in hunting gear, talking a few feet away. Curiosity got the better of her.

"Do you really think we can keep living like this?" the woman asked, sounding stressed. "I don't think I can take any more of this."

"Would you rather we'd live like brainwashed zombies?" the man asked her in turn, using a tone Ramona didn't like. "Our bunker is the only safe place from them taking over."

"I got that. But stocking that bunker is making you and others paranoid about something that may not happen."

"We know what we're doing. You think those Seed-fuckers made their people tote around those guns just for show? We're just looking out for ourselves since the cops aren't doing anything."

Ramona didn't hear the woman's response when she left the aisle and moved on to the dairy section so she wouldn't get caught being nosey. Brainwashing? Guns? This new information about Eden's Gate made Ramona realize it probably had to do with the "illegal shit" Mary May hinted at. Despite not wanting to probe her anymore about uncomfortable topics, Ramona would've appreciated the heads up about a confirmed violent cult who now had their eyes on her. Now she's definitely sure John won't leave her alone and most likely lying about what really happened between him and Mary May.

Back to the task at hand. Ramona reached up to grab vanilla coffee creamer from the top shelf only for her nails to barely brush against it. She internally cursed her height and whoever made this refrigerator. Not wanting to completely give up, she tried again, but failed again when another hand easily grabbed it instead. The owner of the hand was a tall, curvy woman with long dark, curly hair and dark brown eyes which were warm and inviting. She was very pretty.

"Here you go," the woman offered. "This was what you wanted, right?" She was referring to the creamer.

"Yeah it was. Thank you." Ramona acknowledged while accepting the small carton.

"A word of advice. If you're going to be listening to other people's conversations; you should at least do it from somewhere they wouldn't see you," the woman suggested bluntly and flickered her eyes to the side.

Ramona's stomach dropped when she quickly turned her head to see the aforementioned couple, now scowling, rip their gaze away from the two women and shuffled off.

"I'm just telling you from experience."

Ramona couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed of herself. She swore off anything Eden's Gate related, but her curiosity about them kept piquing even though every new piece of information about them just kept getting worse. But then again, any knowledge about the cult would keep Ramona from being ignorant of anything that would pose them as a threat to her. Even if it wasn't coming from a direct source. Anything to not talk to the Seeds again. "Sorry for asking but, do you know anything about Eden's Gate?" she asked, "Also my name is Ramona." The woman pursed her plush lips and loosely crossed her arms under her chest. "Deirdre. I'm a vet at the F.A.N.G. Center in the mountains. I've been living here with my husband and his family for about 10 years, so I...uh….know enough," she divulged tentatively. "They're a doomsday cult preparing for the Collapse. An apocalyptic event." Ramona figured that much on her own. But it was way better than the common "stay away from them" she kept hearing.

"Is there any real way to get them off my back for good?"

"Nope. Since you just moved here, Eden's Gate is not going to leave you alone anytime soon. They love new people."

"Wait, how do you know I just moved here?"

Deirdre frowned and averted her eyes.

"Hey Dee, what's takin' you so long?" Ramona inhaled sharply when she saw the owner of the rough, male voice appear from behind the row of shelves beside them. "Oh. You made a friend." A tall, scarred man with red hair went to stand beside Deirdre, putting his large hand on her shoulder. Combined with Mary May's description and the J. Seed stitched on the sleeve of his camo jacket; she concluded this was Jacob Seed. Ramona made a quick glance at Deirdre. She was still avoiding eye contact. Ramona put two and two together and it all made sense. John probably told Jacob about what happened and probably wanted to take a crack at recruiting the "lost soul". Not to risk straining her neck anymore, Ramona backed up a bit to accommodate her intake of Jacob’s imposing stature. Which wasn’t a bad sight. She definitely didn't lie about the "biggun" and "muscle" part.

"I thought you were waiting outside," Deirdre pointed out crossly.

"I was. But you were takin' too long and folks were givin' me the stink eye. 'Specially that idiot pilot." Jacob stated. He then pointed his gaze at Ramona. "So you're the woman my brother's been talkin' about?"

She sighs. "Yeah. Why? Is it your turn to harass me?" Ramona retorted, suddenly becoming bold. "One of you was bad enough today."

"Heh no. After what happened between you and Johnny, I don't think I wanna tangle with you," he teased. "'Sides, I don't do the door to door shit."

"Then what do you do?"

"All you need to know at the moment is that I keep the congregation safe. And in line."

Remembering the mention of guns earlier, Ramona had a pretty good guess about what that could mean. It wasn't something she wanted to discuss further with him and was grateful he didn't take it upon himself to do so. She looked at Deirdre. She wondered how deep her involvement with Eden's Gate went. If it was beyond being married to one of the brothers. Telling from her tone, Deirdre also didn't seem too interested in discussing anything. Which was also fine. But she could help but be worried. Black women and religious cults run by white men have never been a good match. "I should probably finish up and pay for these," Ramona spoke up, sensing an opportunity to leave. "It was nice talking to you." Deirdre perked up. "I can pay for your groceries if you want," she suggested. "Y'know for your troubles." Jacob made a disapproving face which Deirdre ignored. Ramona thought about what happened between her and John and decided this should make up for it. She accepted the offer.

~~~

"These people act like we're the scum of the earth, but they'll still take our money," Jacob commented, sounding amused. He was referring to the store clerk who gave the group a dirty look while processing the payment. The three were currently outside the general store and Ramona was about to see the couple off. "I guess dressin' up your store like the Fourth of July was really just for show." Deirdre rolled her eyes and saw that Ramona was confused. "The locals here put up American flag stuff to show they're against Eden's Gate," she clarified. "It started happening after the congregation grew." Ramona could tell that wasn't entirely true.

"Hey Dee. How 'bout you wait in the truck while I talk to our friend here before we leave." Deirdre looked between her husband and Ramona and sighed. "Alright." The eldest Seed was mincing his words earlier about his role within Eden's Gate, so what would he possibly want to talk about now. And without his wife present at that. After Deirdre settles herself within the passenger seat of their truck; Jacob leaned his back against it, facing Ramona while crossing his arms.

"While I do think Johnny probably deserved what you did to him this morning, you gotta be smart about who you push away and who you align yourself with."

"What are you talking about? I thought you weren't going to--!"

"Down kitten. I'm just tellin' you this for your own good. Apparently Joe sees somethin' in you and he's usually right."

"Well he's wrong. And Like I told your brother, I'm not meant to join your cult and you can't convince me otherwise!"

"You say that now, but when the time comes, you'll make the right choice."

"Don't count on it."

Despite her stomach twisting in knots, Ramona immediately strode off from Jacob to where Rosa was parked, hearing the couple's truck drive off behind her. She knew people who were involved with cults were self-righteous, but having someone declare what's "good" for her for the second time today was just infuriating. Also frightening. The woman was surprised that Jacob's familiar, intense blue glare and ominous tone he used while practically threatening her didn't put her in another state of panic. Ramona guessed one was enough for today.

Head buzzing with rushing, irritating thoughts, Ramona hastily loaded her car, just eager to get back home. "You okay, Miss?" The woman popped up her head to the sound of another male voice. She saw a man wearing aviators and a shirt with a logo that read Rye & Sons Aviation parked next to her. Aviation? Was this the "idiot" pilot? "That Seed bastard was botherin' you, right?" Ramona let out a sigh and closed the passenger door. She wasn't mad at him or anything; strangers coming up to talk to her when she wasn't in the mood was getting exhausting.

"Unfortunately. Even though this is only my second day here, Eden's Gate has already decided I'm meant to be with them. Whatever that means."

The man furled his lip and shook his head. "That's how they get you," the man started, a rant seemingly brewing. "Damn Peggies make you feel all 'special' when all they really wanted was your plane."

Ramona blinked. "Plane? I don't have a plane?"

"Ah shit! I'm sorry! Got carried away and started talkin' 'bout myself." The man held out his hand. "I'm Nick Rye of Rye and Son's Aviation. I was talkin' 'bout my plane, Carmina."

Ramona, slightly amused at the confusion, shook Nick's hand.

"I heard from Mary May you've already met John. That fucker's been tryin' to get my plane for years after actin' all buddy-buddy and shit with me at first. Them Peggies been harassin' my family so bad my wife Kim, who's smaller than you, had to punch one of 'em. Died down a bit after that and she didn't get in trouble for it."

"I'm sorry you were going through that. Eden's Gate might want my house, but other than that it's just 'me' they want so badly. I don't know what to do."

"Well if I were you, I'd go up to Joseph after one of their sermons and show 'em you mean business."

Ramona didn't quite know what Nick meant, but if it was relating to what his wife did, she's quite sure she won't get away with that. Taking that part out, going straight to the source of her problems seems like something she could work with. Ramona could go to the sermon and hopefully get Joseph to have his brothers to lay off and rethink this whole "prophecy" about her. Of course Ramona would have to figure out the details of this plan so it can be somewhat sound. "Thank you Nick. I'll put some thought into your suggestion." The pilot did a slight smile, noticing a change in her voice from earlier. "Well alright then! Maybe you can come by and I'll give you some flyin' lessons. Carmina's the big yellow one." She froze a bit. "I-I'll think about that too." His smile got bigger. "Great!"

Ramona didn't have the heart to tell Nick she was afraid of heights.

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youvereachedthebadend · 2 years

Note

I know, it really sucks right now. There’s not much we can do about the staring or the amnesia, but I think we can help with the feeling that he’s still there. I’m pretty sure that’s the corruption, and Jack can help uncorrupt you, if you want.

Things will get better either way, though. People will get used to you being around, and you’ll have your medication again, and you’ll be able to form relationships with people you knew before, whether your memory comes back or not. It’s going to be okay, Schneep.

"They're right," Chase agrees. "It's going to be okay. I-I know it's fucking scary now, but I promise, things will get better. We're working on it."

Surgeon laughs. "So they are—I was having doubts about those voices, but they are still here, then." He laughs harder, bending forward, until the laughter slowly transforms into sobs.

"Hey," Chase says softly. He shifts position from crouching to sitting, and leans closer. Slowly, he wraps his arms around Surgeon, who immediately loses all strength and collapses against him. "It's going to be okay," he repeats.

"I-I felt so sick," Surgeon says through his tears. "I-I did not want to hurt her, but he was there, and—and it was inside of me, it was—it was like electricity going through me, from him to her—a-and I remember—I remembered the feeling of lightning and—and she was screaming, but I could not concentrate to move—it was how they always felt, was it not? The feeling of helplessness. I was the one doing that—but even still, I-I cannot find the guilt, I should be feeling more—"

"That's not your fault," Chase says. "This corruption dulls a lot of things, including your emotions. What matters is you know what it's doing now. You know it's wrong. And you want to change."

Surgeon breathes in shakily. "...Chase. That is your name."

"Yeah, that's me." Chase smiles softly.

"Were you my friend? Even...before? Was that true?"

"It was. And I'm still your friend."

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye au #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #rewiredartz #chaseanswers #the-earnest-system

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mianavs · 2 years

Text

Love Me Wrong [07 ; Reconcile]

content: corruption, manipulation, yandere themes, smut, angst, blood, violence/death, non-con elements, oral sex, mentioned fauxcest

featuring: mikey x reader, bonten, takemichi, kazutora

note: haha let's pretend it didn't take me almost 2 months to write this~ regardless, i hope you all like the ending. it's the ending i had in mind since the beginning! a huge thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and commented on this story~ you guys mean the world to me <3

words: 8.2k

other: masterlist

A part of you had always known that your memory would come with a myriad of problems and emotions, but you never expected them to include the worst parts of yourself that had been buried in the darkest recesses of your mind. The putrid feelings that naturally arose in a child from a broken home. The kind that made you seek out others in similar situations just to make yourself feel better because misery really did like a little company. Those were the terrible feelings that propelled you to look for your half-brother, the product of your father’s affair, and the only person that seemed to have it worse than you.

It was only after you found him, that you started to feel better about yourself. You appreciated the refrigerator at home that was always full, your clean and comfortable bed, and even the constant influx of toys gifted to you by your absent parents–all of the things Tetta didn’t have. And when you realized that the one thing he did have was a mother’s love, you selfishly weaseled your way into his home and took some of that love for yourself while replacing it with your warped affection for him. A transaction you considered to be generous compared to the material things your parents gave you instead.

And much like the constant influx of toys your parents sent you to make up for their absence, you showered Tetta with affection in spite of his scheming and terrible actions against those in his way. You knowingly turned a blind eye to his misdeeds and continued trailing after him like the good little sister you fooled yourself into believing you were. Because if you didn’t, then you would’ve been forced to face your true ugly self. The one you’d worked so hard to hide and forget. The selfish, miserable girl who had everything Tetta wanted and thought that being a clingy and annoying sister would’ve been enough to make up for it.

But in the end, it wasn’t. Tetta’s power-hungry spiral led him to an early and terrible death, and you coped the only way you knew how– burying your guilt and acting the part of the naive little sister whose only fault was loving her lost cause of a brother. It took everything you had gone through with Mikey and Bonten to strip the veil from your eyes and see that your brother had been a despicable person who had gone so far as to kill in cold blood.

As the faces of Izana Kurokawa and Emma Sano swirled around in your mind, you felt Kaku’s warm breath stutter behind you as his body shifted.

“Mmm can’t sleep?” His morning voice came out gruff as he tightened his hold on your waist and drew you closer until you could feel the calm beating of his heart over his warm chest. It was the middle of the night but your thoughts were running haywire and you were finally coming to terms with your past actions–or inactions–particularly when it came to someone the man holding you had cared for deeply.

“Did you ever hate me… after what he did to Izana?”

The question left your lips before you realized you’d been thinking aloud. It took him a moment, but he sucked in a breath when it dawned on him who exactly you were referring to.

“I hated Kisaki… but never you. I could never hate you.” He admitted slowly, tasting the words as they slipped from his lips to the shell of your ear. “I know you had nothing to do with his crimes.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple before settling back into bed with a tired yawn, his thumb tracing circles over your hip. You knew it was meant to comfort you but his touch only made your skin prickle from guilt. You couldn’t help but feel that you didn't deserve it. His comfort. His love. His faulty faith in your innocence. All of those things weighed heavily on your conscience along with the knowledge that you could have done something to stop your brother and perhaps prevented the tragedy that occurred on that frigid February day. The one that ripped two of Mikey’s loved ones–a brother and sister–and probably led him down that path of self-destruction.

And for the first time since your memories returned, you felt something other than fear and resentment toward the man who’d held you accountable for your brother’s sins. Your heart clenched with pity for Manjiro Sano and just like every night since you’d woken up from your accident, you fell asleep thinking of him.

The following morning, you woke up to a crippling fear when you realized you would have to face Mikey and pretend you hadn’t recovered your memories and were planning your escape. It swirled in your belly and scarcely let you keep down the couple bite of breakfast you did manage to swallow. It was all you could think about despite Kaku’s best efforts to distract you with plans for your future together.

He spoke of different places the two of you could visit, at home and abroad, but your mind kept going back to the penthouse and your white jail cell. He even talked about the childhood friend that would be hiding you in the meantime, Takemichi Hanagaki, but the only piece of information that stuck with you was that he’d been close to Mikey before Bonten’s inception. But it wasn’t until the two of you were in the back of a cab heading back to the penthouse, that your strained string of composure snapped the moment Kaku hung up on Koko and disclosed that Mikey and the rest of Bonten would return in the evening.

“I-I can’t go back there!” The declaration came out rushed and desperate. With your head tilted downward, you wrung your hands together over your lap.

Kaku’s concerned gaze weighed heavily on you. “What do you mean you can’t go back? You don’t have another option, Y/N.” He reached for your hands but you jerked them away and looked up.

“W-What if I can’t escape?!” you demanded, not caring if you had an audience. “What if Mikey finds out or what if I just can’t leave–”

You barely managed to stop yourself from giving yourself away, from voicing that dark and twisted feeling you’d been struggling to snuff out since last night. The ‘him’ was on the tip of your tongue, but you swallowed it and turned away, shame bubbling in your chest. You were sick. There was no other explanation for why you were having those feelings of regret when it came to Mikey, and you feared returning to his side because you weren’t sure you would have the strength to leave him if you did.

A choked sob ripped from your throat at the thought of sentencing Kaku to death over your betrayal. Hot tears welled up in your eyes and you clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries.

Unable to see you cry, Kaku pulled you into his arms and held you close, tucking your head underneath his chin. He smelled of the hotel room’s soap and his signature musk. He smelled like safety and everything you should’ve wanted without a shred of doubt but didn’t, so you buried your face in his chest and cried even harder while he held you tighter.

“I’ll meet with Takemichi today so we can get you out of there tomorrow before first light, okay?”

You wished you had the means to leave on your own and not have to depend on a knight-in-shining-armor to come to your rescue. But you didn’t and you probably never would even with Kaku.

Unable to voice your response, you nodded against his chest and braced yourself for your reunion with Mikey, hoping you’d put an end to your traitorous feelings toward him once and for all.

For the first time since your imprisonment at Bonten’s penthouse, you were alone. Kakucho had left you there with a kiss on your forehead and the promise of freedom early the following morning. A promise that had lost its sweetness now that you had returned and were left to your own devices in facing Mikey. Once you retreated to your white room, an overwhelming sense of helplessness settled into your bones and made your escape seem impossible.

You tried working on a variety of tasks around your room to keep your mind off Mikey but everything you touched made you think of him and the things he’d done to you. The lies and manipulation he used to have you do his bidding. The encounters with the Bonten members he orchestrated that you now realized were meant to punish you but quickly snowballed into something messier. Something that had started off as a sick revenge ploy and contorted into an unhealthy obsessive relationship. Mikey wanted to make you his and you didn’t know if you could part from him in spite of everything done to you.

In the end, you gave up on keeping yourself busy and settled for a shower before heading to bed. It was a futile attempt to avoid him, much like a child covering its eyes and thinking they’re safe just because they’re blind to the dangers surrounding them, but it was all you could think to do in order to prevent yourself from going mad with worry. Perhaps if luck was on your side, you’d be able to avoid the reunion altogether and leave without ever facing him.

Unfortunately, it’d been some time since luck had genuinely been on your side, and you were stirred awake by the sound of the heavy door and Mikey’s strained voice.

“I know you’re awake,” he said as he approached you. “Why aren’t you greeting me like always?”

Your heart dropped at that, but you braced yourself before drawing the covers back and sitting up on the edge of the bed, slowly taking in the man you resented yet cared for. The person who was your enemy, captor, pretend brother, and lover. Seeing him dressed in black and covered in blood, you recalled the last thought you had before succumbing to your injury; a thought that likened him to the personification of death. And just like your first encounter, Mikey came to you–only this time you didn’t pass out. His hands, although clean, smelled like blood and gunpowder as they gingerly held your petrified face. As he searched your face. his pools of endless black widened before his brow furrowed and a glint of melancholy shone only to be replaced by a hardened look–one he’d only directed at his men but never you.

His lips twitched into a smile that didn’t meet his eyes and your throat constricted. You gripped the covers as you peered up at Mikey and to your horror, his thumbs wiped away tears you hadn’t realized you’d shed.

“Your memories are back, aren’t they?” It was a statement posed as a question that left no room for you to answer it. “You’re looking at me the same way you did when we first met.”

You opened your mouth to refute him, but you couldn’t form the words and just stared up at him in horror. His smile disappeared and he released your face, turning his back to you in what you could only describe as disappointment.

The plan had failed, and it was all your fault. You were unable to save Tetta and Hanma and now Kaku and Koko would be added to that list unless you threw Mikey off their scent. You wracked your brain for what to say or what to do in order to protect them and decided to ask the question you had wanted to ask him since you recovered your memories.

“Did you really want me dead?”

That caught his attention well enough. He paused halfway to the door before turning his head just enough to see his profile. The dark circles underneath his sunken eyes were more pronounced than you remembered, and you wondered if he'd gotten any sleep since the last time you slept together.

His mouth opened for a moment but he quickly shut it and looked down. Mikey had always been a force of power to you, but ever since you'd started recovering your memories, he seemed to have weakened. The Mikey that stood before you was a shell of what he had once been. Gone was the all-powerful and ruthless leader of Bonten who made grown men tremble with only a look.

He faced you head-on and you resisted the itching urge to comfort him, to make meaningless apologies and ignore the root of the problem. You’d done it countless times with Tetta and you’re subconscious forced the same habit with Mikey, but you were resolved to put an end to it all.

When Mikey seemed to realize you weren’t going to fall back on your old habits, a glimpse of panic crossed his face before he looked to his feet.

“I did… I was planning on killing you myself that day,” he looked up and gave you a rueful smile. “I didn’t think it was fair that Kisaki’s sister got to live while mine was dead.”

You repeated Sanzu’s words from that day. “An eye for an eye.”

He shifted his gaze and looked lost in thought. “Exactly.”

Silence filled the space between the two of you as you contemplated a world where your brother hadn’t delivered the blow that led to Emma Sano’s death. You eventually shook that fantasy from your head and stood up to face reality head-on.

“I’m not Tetta,” you declared, approaching a stunned Mikey, “and I’m not Emma. I’m just me.”

For the first time in your warped relationship, you had some semblance of control and didn’t hesitate in getting everything off your chest.

“I’ll admit that I did turn a blind eye to his schemes and crimes, and for that, I apologize. And while I don’t think I deserved to die for that, I do think my memory loss and everything else that happened was some sort of long overdue karma.”

He shook his head lightly, the remorse on his face as clear as day. “No matter what you did or didn’t do, what I did to you was wrong, and I want to apologize even if I don’t expect or deserve your forgiveness.”

You were speechless. An apology from Mikey was something you had never expected. He was the leader of Japan's largest crime syndicate and apologies, let alone remorse, had no place with someone like him. Yet there he was, sorry for using you as an outlet for revenge against your brother's crimes and with no expectation of forgiveness. You had already known reuniting with him would've weakened your resolve on leaving him but his lament was like a wrecking ball crashing into it and causing it to crumble with each forlorn look his midnight eyes cast in your direction.

You wondered if his remorse was enough to let you go. You licked your lips as you tried to find the right words to say, and his eyes darted to your mouth. Warmth spread across your cheeks under his intense stare. When you finally mustered enough willpower to breach the subject, Mikey beat you to the punch.

“And I'm also sorry because even though I don't deserve you, I can't let you go.” He went to you, retaking your face in his hands. You watched frozen in place as that familiar deranged expression peeked through his mask of sorrow, lips twitching, eyes glazed over, and pupils blown out. He backed you against a wall and, just like that, regained control.

“Just as I was unable to kill you.”

With his body pressed against yours–his warm breath fanning across your face–heat pooled in your core and goosebumps rose across the expanse of your skin. The power his touch, words, and gaze had over you was terrifying considering your memories had returned and you were well aware of his true motive behind your kidnapping and manipulation. It was as if nothing had changed between you–no, things had changed. You could love and be loved by him without that voice in the back of your head telling you it was wrong because he was your brother. It was now telling you something different altogether.

“Mikey, no, th-this relationship isn't healthy.” You pleaded, pressing against his chest and ignoring the growing arousal pressing against your stomach. “We can't go on like this… I-I need to leave.”

He chuckled at that and shook his head before pressing his forehead against yours, the smell of blood and sweat filling your nostrils. You watched as one of his hands pulled out a handgun from his back pocket and set it down on the nightstand next to you.

“Since we both know I'm incapable of killing you, the only way you'll be able to get rid of me is if you kill me because I refuse to die by anyone else's hand but yours.” He nuzzled against your neck, tickling the sensitive skin there as he inhaled your scent. “Otherwise, if you run away, I'll keep searching for you. I'll chase you until the ends of the earth if I have to.”

It was a threat that tasted like a promise, made only sweeter by the press of his lips against your jugular. You gasped at the sensation of his warm, wet tongue trailing up to your jaw, and that was all the invitation Mikey needed to seize the back of your head and draw you into a hungry kiss.

You wasted no time in reciprocating it and pulling him closer until you were also tainted with the blood he'd spilled. The possibility of this kiss, this encounter, being your last spurred your desperation and you matched his ardor, well-aware of where it would lead.

The two of you made your way to your bed amidst a series of messy kisses and fervent touches. His hands ran up your thighs, while you snaked them around his torso, the skirt of your nightgown bunching up around your hips in the process. When the air in your lungs ran out and he broke off your kiss, the intoxicating desire shining in his eyes coaxed a whimper from your lips. Your own lust fogged your mind and muffled the voice of reason begging you to untangle yourself from your captor and finally put an end to it all.

But how could you when Mikey's lips quirked into that satisfied grin he wore whenever you surrendered to him before reattaching to your skin and leaving a trail of marks down your throat, while his erection pressed against your aching core just enough to tease but not satiate your need no matter how much your hips writhed against him? That voice's pleas fell on deaf ears as you worked on removing the pesky bloodied clothing that separated you from what you wanted.

You took in his pale skin that shined underneath the moonlight and marveled at the sight of him. Your hands traveled up the expanse of his exposed skin, committing each groove and indent to memory while he rested his head against your forehead and watched. His breath hitched when your fingers brushed against his erect nipples. Emboldened by his reaction, you lowered your mouth to one of them and flicked at it with your tongue while your thumb mimicked the same movement on the other. He let out the needy moan when your lips wrapped around the now swollen nub and you rolled the other between two digits.

You reveled in the power you had over him and finished stripping him of his clothes by tugging on his briefs and releasing his erect cock, flushed at the tip and already leaking. You brushed the slit with your thumb, ready to pump his length, but he pulled away first, leaving you dumbfounded.

“No,” he hissed, seizing your wrists. “Your turn.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he pulled off your flimsy nightgown and captured your lips in another fervent kiss, making you dizzy with desire. He settled you on your back and helped pull off your underwear. Bare and lying on the bed at his mercy, you panted as his eyes greedily drank you in. You flushed and tried to cover yourself when you were all too aware of your current state only to have Mikey pin your arms down at your sides.

“Don’t. I want to see you.” He breathed and planted butterfly kisses down your shoulder to your clavicle. “And worship you.”

He returned your attentions tenfold by sucking and nipping at your nipples, taking his time with each until they throbbed and you were a writhing, teary mess underneath.

Clinging to his back, your nails dug into his shoulder blades. “Mikey, please. I want you–I need you.”

You felt him smile against your skin. “Patience, sweetheart,” he kissed down your sternum to your navel. “I’ll give you what we both want.”

Mikey held your thighs apart and put his warm mouth on your cunt, sliding his tongue through your wet folds and over your sensitive nub. You cried out from the delicious shock and buried your fingers in his hair, while he growled and closed his mouth around your clit, lapping and suckling at the throbbing bundle of nerves.

A series of whines left your lips from the pressure building in your core. “Yes, yes, yes, God, Mikey, yes…”

Your orgasm overtook you, your words trailing off, and you gasped, back arching and bright white dotting your vision.

For a moment the only sounds you could make out were your ragged intakes of breath and Mikey’s mouth devouring your cunt like a starved man. It didn’t take long for another peak to build before your first one subsided, but before you could come on his tongue once more, he moved above you, spreading your legs and burying his entire length inside of you.

It’d only been a couple of days since the two of you had last fucked, but it felt longer than that. Being stretched and filled with Mikey’s cock had been amazing the first time, but the pleasure you felt now was unlike any other. You chalked it up to the knowledge he wasn’t your brother at first, but quickly realized it was probably the possibility of never seeing him again after that night. Tears dotted your eyes and you had a harder time discerning the reasoning behind them.

Mikey readjusted your legs by placing them over his shoulders before he pulled out his cock and pushed it back in, black eyes watching in fascination as your cunt greedily swallowed him up.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned, meeting your gaze with his smoldering one. “Such a good girl for me.”

His strokes were short and shallow, rubbing against that spot that made your toes curl and your hips roll against him, but after a while, you needed more.

“Mmmm Mikey, please.” You moaned, bringing a hand to where your bodies met. “Harder… faster”

Never one to deny you in bed, he gripped your hips and fucked you the way you wanted to be fucked. He dragged his cock against your walls, pulling out almost entirely before ramming his entire length back in and hitting your cervix with each thrust.

“God, I fucking love you.” He moaned before placing a kiss against the side of your leg. “I could stay like this forever and it still wouldn't be enough.”

“I-I love you too, Mikey.” You keened before pulling him down to seal your love with a kiss.

The delicious friction of your fucking and the added stimulation of your clit had your eyes rolling back as your orgasm washed over you. A wail ripped from your throat as your muscles stiffened and you gushed around his cock, coating your conjoined bodies with your release. Your cunt clenched around him until it was all too much and his hips stuttered as he came with a groan, filling you up with his seed.

With lidded eyes, you watched his entire body shudder as your cunt pulsed around his length, wringing out every last drop of his seed. The possibility of becoming pregnant with Mikey's child crossed your mind, and you found you didn't dislike the thought. You wanted to savor everything about him at that moment, his lithe body covered in a sheen of sweat, the tendrils of his white hair that stuck to his forehead, his pink parted lips drawing in ragged breaths from the exertions of your fucking, and the rise and fall of his chest and the erectness of his nipples, still flushed from your earlier attention.

The man you loved was so beautiful. You wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your days in bed with him, where you were both stripped away of your problems and past. The only place where you were just a man and a woman that loved each other. Not the enemies your turbulent past wanted you to be. And if you didn't have other people involved in your escape, you might've just stayed with Mikey.

But you couldn't betray Kaku, Koko, and their friends who were willing to risk their lives to hide you from Mikey. You couldn't selfishly ignore the problems around you and pretend everything was fine anymore. So with tears burning your eyes, you gave him a forced smile before pulling him into an embrace. He settled his head against your neck and sighed in contentment, causing you to hesitate just for a moment before continuing with your plan.

With one arm slung over his shoulders to hold him in place, the other carefully reached over to the nightstand and picked up Mikey's handgun. The cool metal weapon was heavy in your palm as you handled it–almost as heavy as the pit lodged in your throat–but you swallowed your guilt and held the gun out.

“Mikey,” you croaked as the beginnings of a sob broke through. “I'm sorry!”

Mikey's breath hitched, and as soon as he lifted his head, you bashed the side of his head with the gun repeatedly until the iron tang of blood assaulted your nostrils and his head slumped against your shoulder.

It was only when Mikey laid unconscious on top of you, and his warm blood trickled onto your face that you dropped the bloodied gun and sobbed apologies into his shoulder.

Cleaned up and dressed in the only pair of pants you owned, you curled up on your armchair and waited for the first signs of sunrise. Clutching your knees, you glanced over at the bed where Mikey lay unconscious. You'd cleaned his wound and wrapped his head to keep it clean, careful to not move him too much. Every second that passed increased the risk he'd wake up, so you spent your time alternating between watching the night sky and his unconscious form.

When the warm glow of the sun finally peeked through the horizon, you stood up and walked over to where Mikey was. The moments when you got to stare at his sleeping face were rare. He looked at peace and you observed him for a moment before picking up the cleaned gun and tucking it behind your pants. With your heart racing in your chest, you walked to the door without looking back.

The penthouse was eerily silent as you shut the door behind you and made your way to the front elevator. It wasn't until you rounded a corner that someone pulled you by the arm and slammed you against the wall.

You hissed in pain and watched Sanzu's scarred mouth twist into a sinister smile. He looked like a mess. His skin was sallow and sweaty, pupils dilated to the point that his baby blue irises were barely visible, and his eyes were rimmed red. Even without the twitching and angry red scratches on his neck, you could tell he was high and having a bad trip.

“Where do you think you're going?” He sighed, trapping you between his arms and pressing a knee between your legs. “You should be with Mikey,”

He pressed against you until you felt him harden underneath his slacks. “Unless you're tired of him and want someone else.”

“N-no! Stop it, Sanzu.” You tried escaping his grasp but he only ground against you. “M-Mikey won't like it if you do this!”

He laughed and pushed off you before gripping your neck and slamming you back into the wall. You cried out in pain while also managing to conceal the sound of the gun hitting the wall.

He glowered at you. “What Mikey doesn't know won't hurt him,” he snarled and took your lips into a bruising kiss. You pushed against him with one hand while the other snaked behind you.

“You don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment, Y/N. Ever since that day Mikey let me have you.” He worked his way down to your neck while you balled your hands into fists, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“You see this is how things were meant to be, Mikey having his fill of you and then letting me have a turn. After all, it's thanks to me that he found you in the first place.” His free hand shoved inside of your panties and you bit back a yelp.

“I found you.” His fingers parted your dry folds.

“I killed Hanma.” He painfully forced two digits inside your unwilling cunt.

“I led you to him!”

He curled his fingers inside and you shifted your hips under the guise of responding to his ministrations to pull out the gun. And as he smirked at you while fingering your dry cunt, you switched off the safety and shot him in the stomach just as the elevator dinged.

“AHHHH!!!”

Staggering back, he screamed in pain as fresh blood permeated the front of his purple vest and spilled onto the floor. His hand covered his wound and soon enough the pale pink sleeve of his button-down turned crimson. You tried getting away but your legs gave out, and you collapsed on the floor, bile rising in your throat from the overwhelming smell and sight of his blood.

“You little bitch!” He lunged at you and managed to grasp one of your ankles. “I'm gonna fucking kill y-”

A deafening gunshot reverberated off the walls and silenced Sanzu for good, the bullet going right through the center of his head. Your blood ran cold, your ears rang, and your head pounded as Sanzu's lifeless body toppled over.

There was a piercing scream and it was only when Kaku's large hand covered your mouth that you realized it was yours.

“Shhh… it's okay. You're okay.” He pulled your quivering form into his lap and held you tightly until you managed to recollect yourself.

Footsteps coming from the front elevators caught your attention and you turned to see Koko rushing to you, his face pulled into a scowl. He briefly glanced at Sanzu’s corpse before shaking his head and helping you to your feet.

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Koko seethed, pulling you toward the exit. “All of us. There’s no oth–”

He stopped mid-sentence when Takeomi emerged from the shadows, gun in one hand and gaze locked on his little brother’s dead body lying in a pool of his blood.

It only took a moment for him to put two and two together and avenge his brother’s death but it felt much longer than that for you. It was as if the scene was played out in slow-motion; you saw everything but could do nothing to prevent it. As Takeomi drew closer and aimed his gun, Koko wrapped his arm around your waist and dragged you away. Tears burned your eyes and a wail tore from your throat as you dug your heels into the ground and clawed at Koko’s arm. Kaku turned around and offered you a reassuring smile before closing his eyes. Takeomi fired his gun just as Koko lurched you around and shielded you from witnessing the death of your most cherished childhood friend.

As Koko dragged you around the corner, you managed to look back one last time to find Ran and Rindou holding back a weaponless Takeomi mourning his brother while Mochi appeared from the shadows, defeated, as he stared at the lifeless bodies of Bonten’s top two men. Led by Koko, you stepped into the elevator and descended to what would be a new chapter in your life. Even without Koko stating it, you knew that was the last you would see of them. And by the look your companion gave you once he passed you on to his friend, Inui Seishu, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever see him again too.

Seven long months had passed since your escape, and in the meantime, it seemed like the whole country had forgotten all about the ruthless Bonten gang that had disbanded in a couple of days and disappeared off the face of the earth immediately afterward. The media blamed their fall on a power struggle between Kaku, Sanzu, and Mikey that left the former two dead and the latter missing along with the Haitani brothers, Takeomi, Mochi, and Koko. But while everyone else seemed to have forgotten Bonten, your protectors, Takemichi Hanagaki and Seishu Inui, didn’t, and they made sure you were always guarded in case Mikey ever did make good on his promise of finding you–especially in your current condition.

You sat out on the balcony above D&D Motors admiring the sunset as the ex-Toman members ate, drank, and chatted away inside Draken and Inui's shared flat. The guys always got rowdy during their little reunion–especially when alcohol was involved–and while you normally had Hina's company to distract you, she was running late and you were feeling emotional at the sight of Toman without its leader. You feigned nausea when Draken sent you a worried look and Inui stopped you before letting you go with a nod.

Leaning back on one of the wicker chairs, you closed your eyes, took a couple of deep breaths, and focused on the sounds around you. It was an exercise your therapist had introduced you to months ago and one you found helped when you were feeling more emotional than usual.

The sliding door opened and Takemichi stepped out, taking a seat on the chair next to you with a sheepish look on his face.

“You okay? You were looking a little pale.” His cornflower-blue eyes were wide with worry as they trailed down your face to your swollen stomach.

“We're okay,” you assured him. “Just feeling a little emotional seeing everyone together except…”

You placed a hand over your womb to find comfort in your baby's gentle breathing and stirrings. Takemichi's gaze lingered on your hand before smiling knowingly.

“It's hard for me too. Knowing that he's out there all alone after everyone he's lost.” He leaned forward and placed a comforting hand over yours.

“Which is why I think we should find him.”

“Wait wha- Ah!”

At his declaration, your heart leapt to your throat and you jerked forward, surprising your baby and suffering the consequences.

Takemichi rushed to you with a look of panic on his face, hands lingering over your shoulders and stomach.

“Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

You rubbed your belly and waited for your baby to settle before sitting back on the chair.

“I'm fine. We're fine,” you said with a smile.“She's just a kicker, this one.”

“Like her father,” he replied without missing a beat. A silence followed as memories of the man filled the void.

“So you know where he is,” you stated. “Who else knows?”

“Just you, me, and Tora, although I suspect Inupi has an inkling,” Takemichi admitted as he returned to his seat.

You chuckled. “Of course he does. Nothing gets past him.” He nodded with a grin, glancing inside to find Inui scowling at a drunk Chifuyu.

Your gaze followed his and trailed toward Draken who was deep in conversation with Pah and Peh. “Are you planning on telling Draken?”

“Not unless Mikey agrees to come back.” Takemichi tore his gaze from his friends to the orange sky. “I don't want him to suffer through another disappointment.”

You nodded, peering down at your swollen stomach. “I understand. That's also the reason why I haven't told him my little girl's name yet.”

“So does tha-”

“Yes, I'm going to Mikey, and I'll only return if he agrees to come back with me and Emma.”

Takemichi opened his mouth, but his protest died on his tongue and said nothing, nodding silently instead.

“He's up north in one of Bonten's old resorts near some-”

“Hot springs,” you finished, recalling the time you declared your love for him all while recovering bits and pieces of your memory.

“You've been there?” He was understandably surprised.

“Yes, once,” you admitted. “Although I can't say I know the exact location.”

“No worries. I have the address and everything. If I didn't have to work this weekend, I'd take you there myself tomorrow.” He rubbed the back of his head and sighed, leaning back in his seat.

It was sooner than you expected, but you couldn't waste any more time waiting for him to make the first move. You were done with just sitting around and waiting for others to make decisions for you. After months of healing and introspection, Mikey was still the one you wanted and you were determined to meet him and see if he still wanted you.

“I'll go by myself. It'd probably be best if I did anyway.”

He wore the worried expression he'd adopted as of late whenever you did anything that would put a strain on your body, and his gaze lowered to your belly; the source of his worry.

“Are you sure it won't be too hard on you?”

Resting a hand over your protruding stomach, you gently shook your head. “I've got two months left before I pop.” You shot Takemichi a small smile. “I'll be fine.”

The following morning, you left with Kazutora so Inui wouldn't ask too many questions, but from the lingering look he gave, you wondered if he suspected the purpose behind your outing and the possibility of never seeing you again. There was a tug on your heart as you exited the shop and gave Draken a wave that he replied to with a nod. You would miss the warmth and solace that Inui, Takemichi, Draken, and to a lesser extent the rest of the Toman gang, offered, but it would pale in comparison to the hollow in your chest you had been living with ever since you left Mikey.

“You okay from here?” Kazutora asked after walking a couple of blocks.

In the months you'd come to know him, Kazutora was the one Toman member you never connected with. He'd always been distant and reserved with you, and after a while, you stopped trying to break down walls you knew he'd only build right back up again. Takemichi chalked it up to pent-up guilt he still felt toward Mikey, and in some ways, you understood. Guilt was a major reason you never spoke candidly with Draken about Emma Sano or Tetta.

“Yeah, thanks.” You turned to face him while he looked away.

“I- tell him… never mind,” he sighed before running a hand through his long hair. You decided to be bolder and placed a comforting hand over his arm.

“Hey, I get it. Don't worry.”

For the first time since you met him, it felt like Kazutora was truly seeing you and not Kisaki's sister or Mikey's girl. And when he walked away with his head tilted up and a lightness to his step, you vowed to bring back Mikey to give Kazutora the closure he still needed. The same closure you planned on giving yourself when you made a detour to buy a wisteria bonsai tree and headed to visit your brother for the last time.

It was only when you saw the untended state of your family's grave that you spared a thought for your absent parents. Were they still so busy that they couldn't spare some time to pay their respects and tidy up the grave?

A sharp kick from your baby stirred you from your thoughts and reminded you of the task at hand. With the plastic wrapping of the small potted tree, you cleared off the dead leaves and dirt that covered the gravestone and placed the pot on the ledge in front of the wooden marker with your brother's name.

“Sorry it took so long,” you said, tracing the characters of his name branded onto the marker. “But here it is.”

Unlike your previous visit, tears didn't well up in your eyes and your throat didn't close up. Instead, all you felt was the relief of being released from a burden that'd been with you for so long you'd forgotten what it was to live without it.

“I hope it can comfort you in ways I couldn't,” you took a deep breath before continuing. “I-I'm done living with regret. I'm going to live my life the way I want… fearlessly and next to the people I want… and I'm sorry… for all the ways I wronged you.”

You took a step back, inclined your head, and clasped your hands together. With your eyes closed, you wordlessly offered a prayer for your brother–the last thing you would do for him–before crumpling up the wrapping into a ball and leaving, not sure if you would ever visit again.

You stood in front of the derelict resort as the taxi you had taken from the train station drove away, mulling over how different the situation was compared to almost a year ago. Overgrown foliage covered the walls and sidewalks and no lights were on despite the late hour. Instead of sleeping most of the way, you'd remained awake and took in the sights during the train ride out of the city. And whereas the reason behind your previous visit had remained unknown, this time you knew exactly why you were here and what you hoped to accomplish.

Inside, the resort wasn't in any better shape. It appeared to have been abandoned since the fall of Bonten and had been visited by looters. Most of the furnishings had been taken away or broken to pieces. Paper doors were torn. Glass shards littered dirty hardwood floors. The smell of mildew permeated the air. Bugs and small animals scurried out of your way as you made your way through the abandoned building searching for a sign of human life in a place that had once been filled with it. A sign that came in the form of a warm glowing light spilling from one of the suites. With bated breath and your heart in your throat, you nervously walked toward the room and peered inside.

Across the room, Mikey sat on the floor looking out at the neglected garden, leaning against the Shoji door frame with a shot glass of amber liquid. There was a small lantern next to him as well as a large bottle of liquor and countless others, empty and scattered across the floor. He looked different than you remembered him. His hair was longer and dyed black. His skin was sallow and his eyes wearier than before. His clothes were wrinkled, stained, and smelled of the same pungent liquor he drank. It was as if he’d stopped taking care of himself around the same time Bonten fell. He was a ghost of a person. A living person playing at being dead. A man that had lost everything including his will to live.

If he noticed your presence, he gave no indication. He turned away from the garden to look straight ahead and downed his shot. A cool gust of wind sent shivers down your spine and you adjusted your oversized cardigan before entering the room, trepidation in each and every one of your steps. You stood in front of him and only addressed him when he refused to even look at you.

“I got tired… of waiting for you to fulfill your promise.” His sunken eyes remained stubbornly fixed on the wood of the doorframe opposite to him, so you continued with just as much stubbornness. “Although I can’t say it was much of a chase… or that this place deserves the title of the ‘ends of the world’.”

At that, Mikey turned to face you, black eyes as dull and lifeless as coal and thin mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Are you finally here to kill me? To avenge Hanma, the woman from the store, and Kakucho? For what I put you through? The lies I fed you in order to manipulate you into doing my bidding? For fucking you while making you believe I was your brother?”

Each poison-laced word that spilled from his mouth was like a gash against your heart, reopening wounds you’d worked so hard to heal. Tears glazed your eyes and your throat closed up, leaving you unable to utter a word. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d seen so much anger and anguish swirling around in his orbs, weighing down on his brow, and tightening his jaw. It relieved and frightened you all at once. It gave you consolation knowing he was still capable of emotion even if it could lead to him breaking his other promise of being ‘incapable of killing you.’

But just like the other times you had been in need of grounding, your baby reminded you of her presence with a firm kick against your stomach. That was all it took for you to brace yourself against Mikey’s storm of emotions and find the words you needed to say.

“And leave my child without a father? I don’t think so.”

Anger and anguish molded into shock as his eyes lowered to your stomach. You shrugged off your cardigan and held your pronounced belly, leaving no room for doubt.

The empty shot glass slipped from Mikey’s hand and shattered on the patio, discarded and forgotten after your announcement. After recovering enough to move, he shakily rose to his knees and crawled the short distance to you, his wide eyes glued to your belly.

He sat back on his haunches when he reached you. “H-How long?”

“Seven months,” you replied, rubbing your belly. “She’s a perfectly healthy and active baby.”

His glazed eyes met yours and all you saw was warmth and amazement etched into his face. An expression you’d never seen on him but one you preferred to all the others.

“She…? Y-you mean?”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “We’re having a little girl.”

He exhaled sharply before breaking into a tentative smile. His hands trembled as they rose to touch your belly but only hovered over it in hesitation. You helped him along by taking his hands and pressing them against the front where your baby moved the most. Your daughter was as responsive as always and kicked not once, but twice for her dad.

Mikey looked up at you in wonder, causing a surge of affection to bubble in your chest. You were unable to resist the urge to caress his cheek and brought his head against your firm stomach so he could hear his daughter. He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close while you ran your fingers through his hair. It might've been imperfect, but this was your little family and tears streamed down your face as you watched Mikey’s face light up with each movement your daughter made.

“I-I was thinking of Emma for a name,” you breathed as one hand cradled your belly and the other his cheek. “After her late aunt.”

At first you thought it was a trick of the light, but as you felt wetness against your belly, you realized Mikey was crying. You wondered how long it had been since he’d shed tears. Had he shed any for his fallen comrades months ago? Or had the last time been his sister’s death all those years ago? If he was embarrassed by the act, he didn't show it and merely tightened his hold on you while his tears soaked your clothing.

“Thank you for coming back to me.” He said after his tears ceased and placed a gentle kiss over the swell of your belly before rising to his feet and cradling your face in his hands. “And for giving me a reason to live.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, relishing in the familiar feeling of his cool, calloused hands.

“Thank you for waiting.”

And just like that evening when you confessed your love for him and Mikey made love to you, he pressed a slow and gentle kiss to your lips. That same kiss that had seemed like a promise. A promise you now realized was a promise of love. A love that had patiently healed and was ready to begin anew.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader #tr smut #tr x reader #bonten x reader #mikey smut #bonten smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x you #tokyorev x you #tr x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #tr x y/n #mikey x y/n #mikey x you #tw.noncon #navs.tr

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kxkyuu · 3 years

Text

What If?

The mistress: here's the first part Akaza/Demon!Kyoujuro piece I've been working on! Thank you so much for the 100 followers! I hope to gain many more in the future!

Summary: What if Kyoujuro decided to become a demon? He trades his mortality and memories to live forever as demon. But he can't seem to forget your scent. It calls to him like a moth to a flame. So much that Akaza has to bring you with them.

Word count 4.4K

CW: Slight nocon(but they back off), Dubcon, Corruption, Clawing, choking, biting/marking, spitting, knotting, oral (recieving and giving), blood play, darcyphilia, somnophilia, bondage, collaring, usage of the nickname "Pet" from Akaza, pet play Master/slave, slut calling, humiliation, exhibitionism, dumbification, nipple play, sadism, double penetration, anal, spitroast, claiming, praise, degradation, and just overall roughness(mostly from Akaza). Let me know I missed anything!

Tagging: @knyplaymatemansion

I watched in horror as Akaza’s nails grew into sharp claws as I heard Kyoujuro silently and brokenly accepted the demon’s offer. He did not want to die so young. He had so much to live for. Even at the cost of his memories, Kyoujuro wanted to live.

I was glad that I had sent Tanjiro and Inosuke away to help the train members after I had patched the young demon slayer up. I watched as Akaza grinned as he eased his nail into the center of Kyoujuro’s forehead and began to slowly pump his blood into his body.

“Kyou...” I whispered out as tears formed in my eyes as his body began to convulse as the change started. His skin lightened from tan to an almost pale white tone, his once beautiful golden-vermillion eyes darkened until the sclera were pitch black and the gold of his irises nearly swallowed the red.

Short red horns sprung out his forehead and I could fairly see red lines circle his wrists as red claw-like marks appeared on his face. His hair also grew longer and the red streaks spread more throughout the blond locks.

He was still a very beautiful being. Actually even more so as a demon possibly. I could feel my heart racing in my chest. I still loved him. I loved him even if he chose to forget about all our happiest memories, memories of his mother and his brother, to forget about me. But even then, I still loved him.

I froze when his turned those eyes on me, his nostrils flaring. I held my sword closer to my chest, prepared to attack if necessary.

“How do you feel, Kyoujuro?” Akaza asked. The change in his new demon was only temporary. He’d need to take him to Muzan for his true form to be revealed.

He grinned when Kyoujuro looked up at him with his newly changed eyes, but frowned at the confusion swimming in them. “What?” He asked before turning his head in the direction of the woman sitting teary eyed on the ground, her nichirin blade held close to her chest.

Kyoujuro scented the air again, that inoxicatingly sweet smell making his mind even more fuzzy than what it already was. It was coming from that woman. Why did she smell so familiar? Why did she make his heart beat so fast within his chest? Why did he want to do nothing but fill her again and again with his cock until she was a sobbing mess?

“Akaza...Bring me the woman.” His voice held an air of power even if his transformation was not complete yet and it sent shivers down even Akaza’s spine.

Akaza looked taken aback. Kyoujuro was supposed to be his. He should have forgotten about his past life! He turned angry golden eyes on the woman but then shifted to the lightening sky behind her. ‘Shit! The sun!’ “Kyoujuro, we have to get out of here!” He grabbed Kyoujuro by the wrist and tried to pull him into the shadows of the trees.

He looked over at the woman, a growl bubbling in his chest. “I��m not leaving without her.” Kyoujuro may still be a bit frail from the transformation, but he was not leaving without that woman. He needed to know why he felt so drawn to her.

Gritting his teeth, Akaza quickly ran over to me, my eyes wide as the pink-haired demon snarled down at me. “I don't know why you’re still so familiar with Kyoujuro, but he won’t leave without you.”

He grabbed my sword from my hands, smacked me across the face with it to knock me out and tossed it aside before picking me up and tossing me over his shoulder. “Kyoujuro, let’s go now.”

Satisfied that he had gotten his way, he stared at the lightening sky for the last time, knowing deep down that this would be the last time he would be able to witness the sun rising over the horizon.

He grit his teeth when Akaza yelled at him, he was still getting used to his new body. Flexing the muscles in his legs, he bent down to take off after Akaza when a vaguely familiar voice called out to him.

“Rengoku-san?”

He shifted his eyes over his shoulder to see a young demon slayer. He noted the hurt expression on his face. It seemed this child knew him when Kyoujuro was a human. He flashed the boy a fanged smile before the heat from the sun warmed his flesh and he made a beeline for the shadows of the forest.

Kyoujuro needed to find a hideaway from the sun and then he would question the woman. He wanted to know why her scent was still so familiar to him. Why everytime he looked at her, he wanted to fuck her stupid, to fill her tiny body with his seed, to have her in his arms. Kyoujuro would have his answers soon.

Kyoujuro followed Akaza’s scent deep into the woods until he found the pink-haired demon holed up in an abandoned shack, the windows already boarded up. He scanned the small enclosure for the human woman and spotted her crumpled up on the floor in the middle of the building.

He rolled his eyes at Akaza's little pout as he was glaring at the woman. Kyoujuro walked over to where she was and the scent of her blood hit him strongly. It both made his mouth water and his cock rock hard.

Why? Why did she make him both want to rip her apart with his claws and fangs, to devour her, but also to pick her up and slam her up and down on his dick until she was sobbing with pleasure.

Akaza watched as Kyoujuro stared down at the woman. The longer he looked at her, the more angry and frustrated he became. Kyoujuro was supposed to be his eternal fighting partner. He should have forgotten about everything. Even a past lover. So, what made this... “Pet so damn special.”

Yes, the name “pet” would suit her well. She was merely a toy for Kyoujuro that he will eventually tire of and eat. It was only a matter of time before he had Kyoujuro all to himself. “The little pet won’t last long. I will give her until tonight.”

The blond demon took a step towards the woman, her scent starting to drive him crazy with a hunger he did not understand. He was a demon now and humans were his food. And to make things even worse, she was a demon slayer, his newly sworn enemy.

Was it because Akaza was the one who turned him? He was the Upper Moon 3, his blood should have been almost as potent as Lord Muzan’s himself. But...Kyoujuro had to know. He needed to sate this ache in his chest.

He moved over to the unconscious woman, the throbbing in his chest increasing the closer he got. Her scent was intoxicating, mouthwatering even as he saw the line of blood that rolled down the side of her face.

“Kyoujuro...” Akaza said, his eyes narrowing slightly. What was he going to do? While Akaza, himself, did not eat women, he would not put it against the blond if his first meal happened to a female of his past.

Maybe if Kyoujuro ate her, it would break this connection they seemed to have. “Eat her, Kyoujuro.” he said simply, his tone dull. “Eat her and be free of this burden she holds over you. That way we can finally fight for all eternity.”

Kyoujuro drowned at Akaza’s voice as he reached the woman and dropped to his knees. He scooped her limp body into his arms, her scent nearly making him feel drunk. She was pretty, no, she was beautiful. Too beautiful for him to even be holding.

But, he needed a taste, just to see why her scent was so addicting. His tongue slipped out and licked at the line of blood that clung to her cheek and a low moan rumbled in his chest.

Not only was this woman beautiful and her scent called to him, her blood was just as sweet and intoxicating. Kyoujuro had to have her. He leaned down and caught her lips with his, his tongue sliding past her pliable mouth to tangle with hers.

The pink haired demon’s eyes narrowed even further as he watched his newly spawned creation lay the woman back down on the ground before he hovered over her. “What are you-” He stopped and blinked in confusion at what he was watching. Kyoujuro was kissing the human!

“What the hell, Kyoujuro? I said to eat her, not kiss her!” he snarled, golden eyes flashing dangerously. Was he really losing control over his creation? How would Lord Muzan react if he brought not only a human, but a member of the demon slayer corps back to the Infinity Castle with him.

Sure, he may get praised for turning a Hashira, but the woman would never be allowed. “Get rid of her, now! Or I will.” The threat was empty, Akaza would never kill or eat a woman, but Kyoujuro did not know that.

A deep growl emitted from Kyoujuro as he glared at Akaza with burning eyes. He was not going to let the older demon take away something that so obviously belonged to him. Kyoujuro bared his fangs at the pink haired demon in warning,

“You try to kill her and I will end your existance, Akaza.” He hand went to the nichirin blade that was still looped through his belt. He held the unconscious woman closer to his chest and sent Akaza another warning growl.

Akaza looked at Kyoujuro and sighed, shrugging his shoulders. It would seem that he would have to change tactics. Raising his hands in surrender, he took another look at the woman in Kyoujro’s arms. She was fairly attractive and had a decent body. Maybe she would become a demon too?

No, he remembered the hurt and betrayed look on her face when the blond had admitted defeat and agreed to be a demon. “Okay.” he said as he walked closer to the couple, his eyes remained locked with Kyoujuro’s. “I don’t kill or eat women anyway.”

He knelt down next to the woman on the opposite side of Kyoujuro. “Since you obviously have such an attachment to her and I am the one who created you, it’s only fair that we share her, Kyoujuro.”

Kyoujuro looked at Akaza with barely concealed disdain. What he was saying did make sense. The pink-haired demon did give him his blood to make him an immortal demon, but was he willing to share this woman with him?

Looking down at her, something in his mind wanted to refuse Akaza’s offer, but there was something telling him that she would be protected if he agreed. With a solemn nod, Kyoujuro said, “It is only fair.” He relaxed his shoulders and allowed Akaza to get a better look at the unconscious woman. “Do you know why I feel this way towards her? Who is she and why does her scent call to me?”

Fangs grit tightly as Akaza struggled to think of an answer. He did not know why this woman managed to be remembered by Kyoujuro’s body. What made her so fucking special? She appeared to be an ordinary human, a normal Demon slayer.

She was not even that strong. While Kyoujuro was a Hashira, this woman could not be any stronger than a Tsuchinoto at best. But, Kyoujuro was his creation now and should listen to whatever he says as long as it was not about killing this woman. “Apparently she’s someone you knew before you became a Demon and for some reason you can’t forget her completely.”

He sat back on his heels and rubbed his chin. Now that he was closer to her and not in a panic running from the sun, her scent was rather delectable. Akaza froze, her scent made his cock rock hard for some reason and he wanted her too.

The blond saw the way the pink-haired demon’s nostrils flared and how he froze. “You smell it too? It’s her scent. I don’t know either but it makes me want her even more, but not only that having her body in my arms also feels so familiar. And when I kissed her earlier, I thought I felt an even deeper connection with her. You said I knew her when I was human. Was she my lover?” He asked as he gazed down at her, his words sounding strained as he fought the urge to strip her of her clothing and fuck her awake.

“Yes.” Akaza replied reluctantly. He remembered how Kyoujuro told her to stay back and that he would not allow her beloved to get involved with such a dangerous fight at her current level. “But it is possible that once you’ve received blood from Lord Muzan that all memories of her will disappear.”

Kyoujuro tightened his grip on her. “And if I don’t want to forget her. I do want Lord Muzan’s blood to complete my transformation, but this woman calls to me and I want her.”

A frustrated growl left the older demon. There was no negotiation with Kyoujuro. His mind was made up. He wanted to keep this woman. “Fine. We can keep the pet.” Even if his tone was annoyed, there was a part of him that wanted the woman too. Her scent was starting to become addictive and his mouth watered.

“Kyoujuro, since we’re keeping her. We may as well take her for a test drive.” He smiled as he moved closer to the unconscious woman, touching the riverlette of blood that was slowly trickling down the side of her face. Akaza may never actually consume a woman, but her blood was calling to him and he had to have taste.

He brought his two fingers that were coated in the sticky red fluid and brought it to lips mouth. Electricity went down his spine and straight to his cock when the flavor of her blood struck his tongue.

“It’s like her blood is an aphrodisiac.” Kyoujuro said, running the tip of his tongue over the path the blood was beginning to take again until it reached the source at the small wound above her eye. He lapped at it as his saliva began to act as a clotting agent and sealed the wound. “It makes me wonder if other parts of her are just as sweet and addictive.” He then trailed his tongue from the wound back down the side of her face to her neck until he reached the collar of her black uniform.

Akaza’s claws were already making quick work of the buttons that held her top together as he leaned forward to catch her lips with his. He pushed his tongue past her lips and curled it around hers. Even her lips were addictive and he wanted more.

His fingers parted her top and began exploring the uncovered flesh, claws shredding the bandages she used to bind her breasts. He felt her shift slightly, her breathing quickening and he smirked. Just how would their little pet react to being ravished by two demons; becoming their toy.

Kyoujuro crawls down her body, letting Akaza have the top half of the woman as he takes the bottom. He needed to know if other parts of her were just as sweet. He could sense that she would be waking up soon, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

She belonged to him. He flattened his tongue as he left a wet trail over her belly, her skin sweet and addictive. Kyoujuro felt as if he tasted her before, but he couldn’t remember all he knew was that her skin was soft and supple under his tongue and he wanted more.

His hands gripped her thighs before sliding up the skirt she wore. His clawed fingertips ghosted over the thin panties that covered her cunt and he used one to cut through the material.

Fingers gripped and groped at the exposed flesh of her chest as Akaza kissed her soft lips. He wanted to see the look in her eyes when she woke up with one demon fondling her breasts and the other between her legs.

He tugged at her bottom lip with his fangs, being careful to not cut her and wake her with the pain. Akaza wanted a genuine reaction for her as she slowly came to realize what was happening to her. His fingers pinched at her nipple, twisting it lightly as he rolled it. He slid his tongue back inside her mouth and pulled hers inside his mouth which he quickly sucked on.

She tasted so damn good; he could not wait for his turn to taste her.

His tongue found its way to her leg, licking her calf muscle down to her inner thigh. It was like his body remembered every touch that would drive her mad with pleasure as her own small body shivered and a small, muffled sounding moan vibrated in her chest.

That sound was like music to his ears and he wanted to draw more from her. Kyoujuro moved close to her pussy, the sweet scent coming from it drawing him like a moth to a flame.

He brushed his nose against her clit, feeling her shiver even more intensely, her legs trembling his hands. Kyoujuro moved to latch his mouth on that sweet spot that was so tantalizing to him.

I squirmed when a familiar feeling filled my body. Why was I feeling this way? I should only feel like this when I’m with Kyoujuro, but he became a demon. I mewed softly at the feeling of a warm tongue lapping at my cunt.

It was very similar to how Kyoujuro would do it. Each wet swipe felt better than the last. Another moan vibrated in my chest and I began to wonder what was this foreign pressure on my lips and touch on my chest. My hands moved to grab at the head that was between my thighs as I moaned into the mouth covering me. The darkness that was clouding my mind was slowly dissipating.

“Oh, Kyou~” I whined when the lips moved from mine to my chest. My body reacted like it always did and I felt the familiar knot of heat flare in my lower belly.

Akaza curled his tongue around one of her hardened nipples and tugged on the other with his other hand. He could sense that she was on the verge of waking up, if the increasing sounds of her moans were any indicator. He stole a glance up at her face and smiled at the twisted look of confused pleasure that furled her brow.

Her soft whimpers were starting to sound like music to his ears, but he wanted to make her cry. Make her cry from the sheer pain and pleasure that only a demon could give her. He wanted to bite her and leave marks all over this supple skin. “Wake up, pet. Then the real fun can begin.”

Kyoujuro wrapped his lips around that tiny sensitive bit of flesh and sucked on it while flicking his tongue over it. He knew she was close, he just had this feeling. Her fingers were tangled in his red-streaked blond hair, tugging and pushing at the same time. He then retracted the claws of his middle and ring fingers before slowly easing them inside that tight little hole.

Kyoujuro needed to taste her, she was already so sweet on his tongue, but he knew there was something even more delicious. His fingers rubbed against a patch of rigged flesh as he tongue swiped aggressively over her clit. Her hands began tugging and pushing at his head more as her moans became even louder.

That knot in my belly tightened even more, heat spreading down my body and gathering in my belly. I was so close, but who was doing this? Kyoujuro was no longer a part of my life, he left with the Upper Moon 3.

I tried to make the darkness fade more quickly as I struggled to open my eyes. But then the knot came undone and my back arched, lifting off whatever I was laying on as my orgasm shook through my body. My fingers pulled at the head between my thighs and whoever it was let out a growl that vibrated through my clit.

Shivers went down my body as the foreign touch at my chest became even more persistent, tugging and squeezing at my nipples roughly. Who else could be here? I forced the darkness away as I slowly opened my eyes.

The first thing I saw was the head nestled between my thighs, the wet tongue still lapping up my juices. My pussy was still tingling from the intense orgasm but it did not seem like whoever it was was going to stop.

I tried to tug at their hair once more but someone grabbed my wrists and pinned them over my head. I looked up and stared into Akaza’s gold eyes. A gasp left me, “What are you doing?”

I began to thrash in his hold, but a strong arm wrapped around my waist, holding my hips down. “Huh? What’s...” Looking down, I finally took in the red-streaked blond hair that I knew so well. “K-Kyou?”

Akaza grinned now that she was awake. He could now have as much fun as he wanted now. “Hush, pet. Let Kyoujuro finish his meal.” His claws shortened to a neat trim as he pressed them against her lips. “Why don’t I give you something to preoccupy that mouth of yours.”

He grinned when it looked like she was going to defy him, but another breathy moan made her lips part and his fingers slid inside her warm, wet mouth. “That’s a good little pet. I’ll train you well.” He leaned in and nipped at her neck before soothing he bite with his tongue.

Kyoujuro swallowed every last drop she had to offer from her quivering hole. She was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Her flavor is so familiar to him. “Fuck...my sweet little Fireball.” he murmured into her folds. The name rolled off his tongue so easily. Like that was what he had always called her. Kyoujuro moved his tongue away from her weeping slit, to circle her clit again and feeling her thighs tremble around his head.

One arm was locked over her hips to keep them in place. Kyoujuro released her and looked up at her face and saw the fear in her eyes and immediately jumped away. “What?” He grabbed his head as an intense throbbing pounded at the front of his head.

“Shit..” the pink-haired demon cursed as he pulled away from the woman to help his new creation. Akaza thought that tis would be a bad idea. This woman was too closely linked with Kyoujuro memories as a human.

He glanced at the door and saw that the sunlight still filtered through the bottom of the door. “Don’t you move. I have to go help Kyoujuro. Looks like he’ll need more blood.” He grabbed her face, glaring into her eyes and daring her to defile him.

I nodded my head as I grabbed the open ends of my jacket and held them closed. I watched as Akaza approached Kyoujuro, who was still growling in pain, his eyes flickering from white and black as he held his head. Was he not a full demon yet? Maybe I could still save him. Save the love of my life.

My body still remembered his gentle touches even if he was supposed to be my enemy. I could not deny my heart still saw him as the man I fell so deeply in love with. I touched my lips, I could still feel and taste Akaza’s fingers in my mouth. Kyoujuro was never that rough with me...

Shaking my head, I tried to rid myself of those lustful thoughts. Why was I having such thoughts about my sworn enemy?! That demon took the love of my life from me!

But a voice in the back of my head told me that I actually enjoyed having this newly demonized Kyoujuro between my thighs as Akaza had his fingers in my mouth. My mind slowly traveled to thoughts of being sandwiched between them, feeling their hands on my body, their cocks deep within me.

I slapped myself hard as I came back to my senses. I watched as Akaza knelt down by Kyoujuro, his nails lengthening. My heart twisted in my chest as I forced myself to look away.

Akaza pushed his finger deeper into Kyoujruo’s chest, giving him more blood. He watched as the small horns grew in length and darkened in color, the red of his irises turning into slits as the gold took over. Red flame-like markings appeared on the young demon’s face as Akaza pulled away and licked his finger as the wound healed. “Better, Kyoujuro?”

Kyoujuro slowly put his hands down away from his head, the throbbing pain easing away now that he had more blood. “Yes,” he looked over at the woman, her sweet scent still in the air; even more so now that he had brought her to an orgasm.

He could still taste her essence on his tongue. “But, I should probably not touch her until I can find a way to make her see that I am not to be feared.”

Golden eyes rolled as the pink-haired demons placed his hands on his hips. “Or maybe we get rid of her before we return to Lord Muzan.” He backed away from Kyoujuro when flames suddenly surrounded the young demon as angry glowing eyes locked on his form.

How was Kyoujuro this strong as a fledgling demon? His power was almost on par with an Upper Moon. A smile crossed the older demon’s lips. He truly did find the best fighting partner. He held his hands up in surrender as he backed away slowly. “

I didn't mean kill her.” he said, noting the stubborn looking Kyoujuro’s eyes even as the flames disapated. “But if you insist on keeping our little pet. She’ll need a collar.”

“I’m sorry?! A what?!”

Part 2 -> NEXT

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aetherarf · 3 years

Note

Hi hello i saw your requests are open!! And i dont know if this is allowed but can you do genshin boys caught cheating and they played it off and later on they started to regret what they did and when they found the reader, the reader is now happy or disappeared or idk ITS UP TO YOU TO DEICIDE HEHEHEHE IM SORRY I LOVE READING ANGST SM SO ITS OKAY IF YOU WONT TAKE IT !! YOUR WORKS ARE REALLY GREAT BTW!!! (more than great i mean *chefs kiss*)

Yes I've finally gotten to this one! I hope it's angsty enough for you 😘

[[ WARNING: CHEATING, NON-LETHAL INJURY, ALCOHOL ]]

[[ Summary: Kaeya, Childe, and Diluc end up cheating on their partner... They get caught, not by their partner, but someone else. As the days pass, they begin to regret it... only for their little secret to get back to their lover...

Note, Kaeya's is longest/wordiest cuz I didn't realize I should probably be a bit more brief... Kaeya favouritism lol.

Overall Word Count: 3'602 [rip me]

Kaeya Word Count: 1'841

Childe Word Count: 950

Diluc Word Count: 811 ]]

Kaeya

Distantly, he remembers an old saying from Crepus, in response to his question-- "Why do people drink so much?"

"Well... Alcohol doesn't solve anything, but it can make you forget questions you'd rather not think about."

He understood that as he got older. Why stress, and think about things he could not control? ... Well, maybe he should deal with them, but that's easier said than done when his entire life was on the line. Every night, in the tavern, he drank to forget. Not that he'd admit that to anyone.

And, somehow, he had forgotten more than he'd like to admit. On his lap, a beautiful woman, and he was tugged to a back closet of the Angel's Share. She tasted sweet, like wine and sugar. If it wasn't for an intruder, ( despite the fact that he was the one intruding into staff-only area ) he likely would have had a far better time, to completely lose himself in his inebriation.

"K-Kaeya!" Uh oh, as his vision focused, he could see Diluc's unmistakable silhouette, with that fluffy red hair and broad shoulders. "You," he pointed to the woman, "Out." The woman, not wanting to envoke the wrath of Sir Ragnvindr, running out immediately. But, Diluc didn't let Kaeya out, not that he was fighting to get out. Instead, he walked closer.

"What have you done?" he asked, voice low and full of rage. However, Kaeya could only smile,

"What do you mean, Master Ragnvindr?" He asked, all sly.

"You cheater," he snapped, "You do know that wasn't your partner? The one you swore yourself to? They were just looking for you, you know." He was nearly yelling, forcing his voice low...

And that, that idea, the realization of everything hit him harder than even the biggest bomb's that Klee had ever made. He... did.

"Look," The world was no longer warm an fuzzy, just a little shift away from his normal reality, everything crashing down. The thoughts that haunted him when you slept so peacefully in his arms, when he would see the knights laughing and smiling together, the ever-haunting knowledge that he was alone amongst them...

The way only you did not have that odd look in your eye, of wonder upon seeing something unique, or of something alien that terrified... You only looked at him as what he wished to be seen-a person.

And here he went, fucking it all up.

"Look," he said again, tears in his eye, "You, you can't tell anyone," He all but snapped at Diluc, who's eyes widened in shock, "I-I wouldn't tell if you did it, you have to do the same for me," he promised, desperately trying to think of what to do...

"Kaeya, this isn't about me, this is about you and-and them," Diluc didn't even need to say the name, "You're better than this, I won't tell, but only if you do."

Kaeya's brows furrowed, he wasn't used to feeling so... betrayed. Normally, it was expected, but this... but this was different! Wasn't it...?

"It has nothing to do with you, I... I can deal with it on my own, 'Luc." He insisted, straightening out his back. He was only a tiny bit taller than Diluc, but he wanted to hold it over him, to prove he wasn't going to let him use him over his... his mistake.

"Kaeya," his voice was... softer. Kaeya didn't want to hear this voice, this consoling voice. Not after everything, not... not like this!

"Fuck off, Diluc," he snapped, pushing him to the wall as he stormed out, "You made it clear you want nothing to do with me, don't try now. Not like this," he demanded, seeing Diluc look at him, eyes wide... shocked.

"Fine. Get out and don't come back." Diluc hissed, voice much lower, his eyes glazed over. Kaeya almost wanted to yell at him, to keep fighting... But, no, no, he didn't. He couldn't do that here, not when he was too desperate to figure out what to do, leaving through the front of Angel's Share, slamming the door behind him.

And he ran. He didn't know why, he wasn't headed home, but he just... he felt like he was running from his mistakes, the wind biting at his face, until he finally skidded into an alleyway, his back against the wall, his hand put up to his mouth, biting at the base of his thumb to stifle the sobs that wanted to burst from his chest. It hurt, oh, it hurt, but it felt... right, it felt like he should hurt, his teeth clasping harder onto his hand, tears rolling from his eye as he roughly breathed through his nostrils, his brain desperately trying to figure out what to do, what to say, what to think... But it all only ended up in a jumbled mess, of black and red and tears and crying.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but by the time he stopped biting his hand, it felt... hot, for some reason, and as he looked at his hand...

Red. Bite marks. His teeth had sunk in so deep, his skin was broken and reddened and bloody. He couldn't even feel the pain, like when the burning fire had turned to grey, dead embers... he felt nothing, his own bodily sensations distant in an odd way.

He doesn't even know why, but upon seeing his blood ooze from his flesh, he swing his fist towards the brick, hearing it clatter against it. He stared at his hand, pulling off his glove to stare, dazed, at his busted knuckles.

Holding his fist close to his chest, he finally walked home.

If I don't tell them, he thought, I can live with it. I've lived with worse. I live with worse.

He didn't want to.

But he did that-he cheated. He cheated on the one person that could make everything feel okay, like he never hurt anyone, like he wasn't from a distant corrupt land, like he wasn't the monster he was told to be.

Should he say it? Tell directly?

...

It wouldn't matter if he told immediately or in a week. He-he trusted you'd understand, he could... He could figure it out. He just, his brain was both sinking and floating, drunk yet sober, he wasn't in his own body right about now. He was somewhere gone, and he couldn't be making any decisions.

Shambling his way home, he opened the front door... And hesitated, listening. Looking. You weren't in eyeshot or earshot, so... He could wrap up his hand before he gave everything away, or at least, his temper tantrum of sorts. He rummaged around before finding that small first aide kit, cleaning the wounds of his own cause, and bandaged up his hand... for a second, he tensed, hearing your footsteps, but he opted to finish wrapping it before you could see.

"Kaeyaaa..." You whined, "You didn't come to bed..." You walked over, hugging him from the side, resting your head on him. How sweet you were, how cuddly... As though nothing happened.

"I'll come to bed in a minute," he said, "I just need to finish this real quick."

You peeked over to look at whatever he was messing with, and woke up in an instant, reaching over to his hand as he was tucking the end of the bandage away, so it wouldn't unravel so easily. "What happened?" You asked, tenderly holding his injured hand with both of yours.

"Nothing to be worried about," he reassured, trying to hide how his voice shook, "Just wanted to patch it up."

With one hand, you gently stroked his, and then lifted it to your mouth to give a loving kiss atop it. "Are you okay to come to bed?" You asked, still tired from the late hour.

"Of course," he wanted to kiss you, badly, but he refrained. You shouldn't, Kaeya, your mouth is dirty.

The two of you walked to bed, he undressing just enough to comfortably lie down...

Feeling how you snuggled up to him, sighing in such comfort now that he was home, and how you soon became a weight upon him as you sunk back into sleep...

However, he did not sleep that night. Or the next, or the next... Or the next.

Days, truly, passed. He did not sleep, he was not sleeping, Jean even scolded him for blacking out more than once, stunned when one second he was standing, and the next he was on the ground, no memory of having fallen, with the knights consoling him.

He started staying later, he had not gone back to the Angel's Share. Many mornings, he was not there when you woke. You knew he was busy, but... this was horrific.

Eventually, two weeks have passed. He steeled his nerves, and he was going to talk to you about it. He didn't want to live like this, with this guilt and agony upon the things he could not fix--but he could fix this. He could-he could make this better.

But, as he walked into your shared home... an eerie silence. As he looked around, it felt like... a lot was missing.

Everything that was missing, from simple objects placed about to pictures on the walls, were all yours. Of you.

Save for a single picture frame, with shattered glass, and a picture of him and you, smiling. It was one of the more coherent pictures the two of you had made.

Beside it, a note.

Dear Kaeya,

A woman came to me recently, telling me of you. Of how you kissed her, and nearly slept with her at the Angel's Share. She was unaware of the fact that you had a partner, and had finally found and confided in me about this.

I don't know what made you cheat on me like this, but worse still you've been avoiding me, and you wouldn't even tell me. If I knew... then we could have talked about it, we could have gotten counseling. We could have fixed this--fixed us. But you were gone.

I don't want to hear you say it, say that you don't love me or you don't want to be with me, so I left. I'm not in Mondstadt, I've gone to live with someone I can actually trust. Please don't look for me, I need time. Your lack of communication was enough to tell me you don't care enough to fix this.

Sincerely, Your former beloved.

Tears truckled down onto the paper, and he nearly crushed it in a single fist... But, no, he couldn't, he couldn't destroy the last connection he had to you, no matter how badly he wanted to rip out his eye, so he never had to look at it ever again. He collapsed the floor, the letter, and the framed picture falling to the ground, a broken, loud laughter rung through the house as tears fells down his face, maniacal in nature...

He wanted to be alone, and gone, for a long... long time.

Childe

Childe didn't understand the meaning of 'exclusive' as well. He loved you, dearly, but to him, love was a thing to be given more freely. Maybe it was just a lack of communication, or maybe he completely misunderstood your words, but with an old friend he slept with time and time again...

When Scaramouche saw him sending off his friend with a goodbye kiss, it being a casual commoditiy in his mind, only then did he get utterly chewed out for this.

"Are you a fucking idiot?" Scaramouche snarled at him, "You're not even shameful about this, you cheater." He snapped, as though he was truly angry for you, instead of just a generally very angry person. Childe shrugged.

"I wouldn't mind if they slept with someone else," he said casually, "Doesn't mean they love me any less, you know?"

Scaramouche tried to response, but he was simply flabberghasted. "Most people don't think that way, you airheaded moron."

Childe just laughed, brushing off the shorter harbinger, before walking off without a care.

But... in the end, the words got to him.

Maybe you didn't think that way? You two had spoken of marriage, a very possible reality that he was looking forward to... But, maybe there was a... culture clash, maybe? A clash of upbringings?

He found himself wondering these things at night, when you were snuggled up to him, unaware of the whirlwind of fear in his mind.

Silently, he resolved to simply stop--It would keep you happy, a little secret he didn't mind keeping. Maybe in many, many years, he'd mention it, but... he thought that was okay. That could be the last time he'd ever do something like that...

But, as he came home... You were sitting, waiting for him.

"Please, come sit down, Ajax," that morose tone, it made his heart ache... so he obeyed without question. You looked at him, face puffy and eyes red... "Tell me the truth," you asked, his heart sinking, "Did you cheat on me?"

He froze, but... "Y-yes, but-"

"I don't need an explanation," you admitted, a small, broken smile on your face, "I knew I wasn't loveable enough."

"Wait, no, no, that's not it at all-"

"No," you interrupted, "I don't need an explanation. I'll be out by tonight," you looked down at your lap, his heart shattering into even smaller pieces,

"Babe... please, please, let me explain, I'll never do it again-"

You stood,

"If you'd do it once, you'd do it again. Don't talk to me," you hesitated, "If you want me to be happy, don't look for me ever again."

He was trying to reach for you... but, he couldn't make himself grab you, not when you so delicately shied away...

Eventually, he gave up. No amount of fighting would stop you, and... and he... he couldn't keep seeing your pain as you cried for him to just leave you alone.

Was this love? The pain of another, the terror not of considering spending the rest of your life with them, but the terror of not spending the rest of your life with them?

Before he knew it, he was staring at a mirror, shards of glass in his fist, more than a few holes in the wall and a broken door, the shattered mirror distorting his expression...

Upon walking through the house, he saw that there was... it felt so empty, without your delicate touch and presence making it a place he lovingly called home.

"No," he whispered, hoping... were you here? Did you see... whatever he blacked out and did, the tantrum he did not remember? Did he, oh gods above, oh gods, he didn't hurt you, did he?

...

But he never got an opportunity to find out.

By the time he had sobered up from his tantrum... you were gone. Only a note, left behind, Don't look for me.

Because, you both knew, if he really wanted to find you, he could. He could capture you, trap you... hurt you.

But he didn't want any of that, as much as it hurt to have you away... to make you hate him anymore than you already did was enough to drive a man to near insanity.

Even after you had been gone, he would sit, whenever he was not forced to work, to fulfil his duties to the Tsaritsa... he would wait. He would cook your favourite dishes, read the books you liked, go to the places you enjoyed...

Only after weeks of this, did it hit him that you truly were never coming home. He knew that, but... but, somehow, his heart, his emotions hadn't caught up.

For a second time, he had destroyed your shared, no... his home.

It just wasn't home without you.

Unable to endure the idea of still being here, of a place where he had held you so many times, kissed you, loved you, and suddenly you were all but gone... He tried to do anything to avoid it, to avoid that demon that desperately tried to crawl out of him, threatening to burst from his chest.

Even the other Harbingers had noticed this, how... awful he had been, how he had lost himself. Even Scaramouche, the one most openly said to be the easiest to hate amongst them all, with an uncanny talent to bring even the most pacificistic souls to pure rage, had done well to stay his tongue, never kind, never sweet, but he would give him the isolation he craved, only speaking as much was necessary.

He didn't know what to do with himself, but whenever that happened... he'd just throw himself to the maws of death and, unluckily, crawl his way back out.

Diluc

Everything felt hot and fuzzy and...

Red.

Was red a feeling? His face was red, his body burned, and he could scarcely breathe, he definitely had accidentally drunk some alcohol, but for once, the effects of inebriation hit him. However, while he couldn't understand why people would devote their lives to this sensation, he could appreciate reality being distant, when he knew if he wasn't drunk, he would have spit up the wine and some extra blood, making it an even richer red color.

A warm feeling around his dick, he saw a pretty, if not distorted, face. It didn't take long for him to explode with sensation, his eyes shot wide... and a kiss pressed to his lips.

He almost chased that pretty face, only to see it disappear, he falling to his knees, rasping for air. Moments later, he felt hands on his shoulder's, shaking him. He shot his head up, seeing Kaeya looking at him in fear, and distantly, he heard his name...

"Diluc. Diluc. Diluc! Say something!"

Diluc stared at him, and opened his mouth to speak, but he only ended up jerking his head down, coughing into his elbow, seeing blood on his black coat... Kaeya noticed, too, frozen in shock.

"What happened?" he asked, his eye wide in shock.

"I..." Diluc rasped out, and his eyes widened in shock.

He realized what he had done.

He. He slept with someone who was most definitely not the one he had sworn himself to. Some-some random woman who was likely enchanted by the prospect of a rich man.

"Diluc!" Kaeya shouted, afraid, "What happened?"

Diluc shoved himself up, his hand on Kaeya's shoulder, already rushing to run out and all the way back to the Winery-but not before Kaeya grabbed him, stopping him, strength near equally matched.

"'Luc, I'm not letting you go anywhere until you-"

"I did," Diluc was still gasping for air, "I did something terrible." He admitted, with no small amount of pain.

"What did you do?" Kaeya asked, "Don't run, don't run, you're going to choke on your own blood-"

"No!" Diluc shouted, throwing Kaeya off his arm, running on pure adrenaline, even as his face was beet red, and his vision blurred.

But he needed to confess his sins, immediately, he needed to... now, now, now!

He heard Kaeya shout, but in the end, as he had to stop just to rasp for air again, the burn of alcohol still in his throat, he heard no shouting, nothing but the sound of his thundering heartbeats in his own ears.

Finally, he got to the Winery. You saw him, shocked, seeing his red face and how distressed he was, his hair nothing short of a fluffy mess.

"Diluc," you run over, he leaning on you, just to not collapse from the lack of air, "Diluc, what's wrong?"

"I-I..." He shuttered out, sucking in a breath, "I cheated on you."

You were reeling, "You-What?"

"I-I accidentally drank wine. I was drunk, I can't..." He was still heaving, "I can't breathe... I don't... I don't know what happened, but... She... a woman, she..."

He couldn't finish, but he didn't need to.

"You cheated on me and the first thing you did was come home and brag about it?" You asked, equal parts anguish and anger,

"No," he rasped, his knees buckling as the world tried to disappear on him, "I can't..." his hand went to his throat, "Wait..."

He didn't know what happened, but he only saw flashes after that--Your tears, his bloodied hands, you leaving.

And he was alone, on the ground, barely able to breathe, to think... to do anything.

You left him.

You were gone.

And, somehow, he wasn't mad at all. Having breathed long enough to move again, he stood... and he found the half-empty bottle of wine left on the table, the wine you adored so.

He grabbed the bottle and drank straight from it, feeling his throat and tongue swell, it crashing to the ground as he fell, unable to rasp even the slightest breaths,

I deserve this, he thought, I deserve this. This is all I deserve.

...

...?

For some reason, despite his better wishes, he woke up. He lay in bed, a cool, wet cloth over his forehead... his flesh burned, and his tongue was still swollen, he unable to wiggle it in his mouth. His breathing, still, was labored, but it seemed that he was still breathing, despite everything.

He watched as Adelinde cautiously walked over, looking down at his face, "... Master Diluc, are you alright?"

No, he wasn't, but he could not even sob and cry, for he could not breathe enough to do so.

A cruel twist of fate, but he was not deserving to cry, he was the one who hurt you. You did nothing but love him.

He didn't deserve anything right now.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #kaeya #diluc #childe #genshin kaeya #genshin diluc #genshin childe #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #bark writes #// also dw anon i've written way more messed up stuff than this #// :)#// also idk why ppl cheat beyond the thrill of it and i wanted to make it more interesting than that #// chlide was the closest to that idea #// i got some shitty news + people who didnt stop bringing it up so this took way more time than i'd like to admit

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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : You Again

Summary: It’s been years since seeing each other and a lot has changed.

Genre: Fluff , Mentions of Smut

Request: Yes / No

Word Count: 2,478

* * * * * *

Green eyes discreetly watch their surroundings as the redhead makes her way down the street. She purposely avoids stepping too close to anyone.

Her hand shoves into her pocket to retrieve her vibrating phone. A blocked number displayed across the top of the phone telling her exactly who is calling.

Turning down an empty alley, she answers.

As expected it’s Fury requesting that she come in and she agrees without hesitation. The call ending just as she’s on the other side of the alley.

The second someone collides into her shoulder she tenses and levels them with a glare.

E/c eyes instantly flicker over her form,“ I’m so sorry I’m in a bit of a rush, are you okay?” The voice belonging to the offender sounds wildly familiar, causing the redhead to frown and look up at their face.

The woman in front of her raises an eyebrow, a concernedly soft smile tugs at her lips.

“I-I’m fine.” Natasha says, the frown still deep on her face.

Nodding, the h/c takes a small step to the side, and continues to rush down the sidewalk.

The encounter remains in Natasha’s mind until she gets to the compound. She just can’t shake how familiar the woman looked. Those eyes were ones she swears she’s seen before, that voice pulled at something seemingly buried deep in her memory.

It’s not until she’s standing in front of Fury himself that she let’s the thoughts ghost away.

“You took your sweet time Romanoff.” He says with a stone face, but knowing him for years allows Natasha to detect the teasing in his tone.

Moving her curls over her shoulder with a shake of her head, the redhead smirks,“ I was in the city Nick.”

He nods in understanding.“ Well now that you’re here, welcome to your new assignment,” he holds a file out to her.

She accepts it and flips it open. The frown from earlier returns as she looks at the list of recruits, the same familiar face from earlier stares back at her from one of the many pictures.

“Don’t tell me all your Avenging has made you too hot for recruit training.” Fury teases once more.

“No just- where’s the file on recruit seventeen?” Her inquiry makes Fury raise his eyebrows, head raising in further curiosity.

However he searches through the stack of files on his desk,“ lucky for you they haven’t been processed yet.” He hands her yet another file and she tries her best to refrain from frantically flipping it open.

The second she sees the name at the top her breath hitches.

There’s no way it’s you.

* * * * * * *

Perched behind the ledge on the building’s roof, Natasha once again peaks through the scope of her sniper.

“I’d truly appreciate if you didn’t kill him. Not until he’s answered my questions at least.”

The voice put Natasha on guard instantly. She can’t recall the last time someone had snuck up on her.

Spinning around, a stoic expression plastered on her face to hide her true emotions, Natasha comes face to face with a woman nearly four inches shorter than her. An amused smirk plays on the woman’s face and it instantly irritates Natasha.

“I’m afraid your questions will have to go unanswered.” The redhead replies, just waiting for a challenge.

The woman’s hands raise in a show of harmlessness,“ I won’t make your job harder, I imagine if you’ve been looking for him as long as I have this is a rare opportunity.” Nonchalantly she comes closer, raising a questioning eyebrow as she points at the sniper’s scope. Natasha frowns but nods, watching as the woman looks through it.“ What if you just took out his legs. I go in, ask my questions and you finish your job after I’m gone.”

“What makes you think I’m willing to help you?”

“Isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do, help people?” An eyebrow raises at Natasha.“ Come on Black Widow, you scratch my back I scratch yours.”

Green eyes narrow at the use of her alias. Something tells her that her identity was known before she was approached.“ Who are you?” She asks.

“Ooo introductions, fun. I’m Y/n but you can call me Ghost.” You hold your hand out to the redhead.“ I work special operations for a private organization. As mentioned, I’m just here to get some answers. Your target is a scientist gone rogue, if I don’t speak to him a lot of people could get hurt, myself included.”

Natasha’s head raises, eyes scanning your face for any hint of deception.“ I know who he is.” It’s not surprising that someone else is after the doctor, just surprising that someone found him when she did.

Taking a risk, unlike anything she’d ever do, she agrees to help.

A plan quickly forms between the two of you that executes perfectly. You get your information and she takes out her target, both of you gone without a trace.

“You know, we made a pretty decent team.” A teasing smile hits your lips as you glance at the woman beside you.

“Don’t get used to it.” For the first time tonight, a smirk plays on Natasha’s lips.

Chuckling, you nod,“ since we’ll never see each other again, how would you feel about a celebratory drink?”

Once again, she finds herself taking a risk.

* * * * * * *

Natasha pulls herself from that train of thought before she can dive into the remaining events of that night, though she can faintly remember the feel of your hands across her heated skin as whispers of her beauty left your lips. That wasn’t even the last night it had happened, what you did to her left her hooked.

So much so that it became a regular occurrence for her to end up in your bed when she was assigned to missions in Canada. Connecting with you in bed inevitably lead to a stronger connection emotionally.

It stumped Natasha how you’d managed to get through her facades as if it were nothing. Even more so than that, she wasn’t expecting you to understand her so well, not even her closest friend, the man she considers her brother, understood her the way you did.

But then the Avengers became a thing and she wasn’t sent on missions to Canada anymore.

“When was she recruited?” Natasha asks, finally looking up from the picture of you.

“A few months ago, she found us and that,” the man chuckles impressively,“ that’s impressive on it’s own.”

With nothing more to say to Fury, Natasha nods non verbally accepting the mission, and leaves out. Heading straight to the elevators that would take her to the training floor.

Common noises of the compound could be heard: another group of trainees outside with Sam and Steve, faint sounds of orders being shouted, occasional drilling sounds.

Stepping into the training room, Natasha’s eyes scan the small group of recruits, and land on you.

No wonder she wasn’t sure if you were familiar or not. Last time she saw you, you were shorter than her, just as skinny. Now you’re almost a foot taller, more meat on your bones as defined muscles.

Your eyes land on her and you smirk, winking just barely.

Of course you recognized her, only difference in her is the length of her hair. Those enticing green eyes are still just that, curves still accentuated by the leather catsuit, expression just as stoic as the night you met.

Calling the recruits into order, Natasha runs through the basic entry speech, words of intimidation and motivation spoken to reach the hearts of those who aren’t ready and those born ready. She can easily detect who won’t last longer than a week, you aren’t one of them.

“Pair up, combat training begins now, if you can’t take down each other you have no business in the field.” She says, then looking you dead in the eyes,“ seventeen you’re with me.”

Nodding, you follow her over to a set of mats near the window, stepping up to face her head on. There’s just enough time to release a single breath and then she’s attacking. To anyone else she does so with movements as calm as the wind, each strike or counter move executed with precision.

But you, you know her in a way nobody does, nobody ever has. It allows you to see the slight irritation in her punches, the anxiousness and curiosity in her eyes. It’s how you see that her guard is back up in regards to you.

You let her get the upper hand, yes let, just so she can pin you to the mat, your arm behind your back in her grasp with her mouth to your ear.

“Whatever you’re worried about Romanova, let it go. I’m not here with any bad intentions.” You speak, voice as smooth as the day she first heard it.

Her eyes narrow,“ so why are you here?”

“To see you.” You smile only to grunt when her arm presses into the back of your neck.“ Okay okay. I left the last organization once it fell into the wrong hands, HYDRA’s hands. I found out through some reliable sources that the Avengers were hunting down HYDRA. After what they did to me, what they may still be doing to my friends,” Natasha’s grip has long since loosened, allowing you to shift slightly,“ I have to stop them.”

Releasing you completely, Natasha pops up and offers you a hand of assistance.“ What did they do to you?”

A snort falls from your lips, your arms spreading out,“ don’t tell me it's been so long you don’t notice. Maybe if I-” playfully you squat down to the height you used to be. You smile when you see the slightly amused smirk on Natasha’s lips, accompanied by an eye roll.“ They made me Captain America 2.0 and at first I was with the idea, until I got word of what their true intentions were.”

“They wanted you to be a weapon.” She understands. If no one else ever will, she does. You nod solemnly and the ex-assassin sees how much you’re torn up by the corruption of the organization. It’s like looking in a mirror, that’s exactly how she felt about SHIELD collapsing.

With present company around, you both agree to talk after training, Natasha telling you to come to her quarters after you’ve checked in.

So for the time being you focus on training, nailing the hand to hand combat with Natasha before being handed over to Sam Wilson for basic exercises and a run around the compound, where you’re shown the trainee’s residence.

After checking in with the agent in charge of your training group, you shower, change, and head to the main building in search of Natasha.

It doesn't take long to find her since you follow her directions perfectly.

Looking around at her luxury apartment like quarters, you can’t say you expected anything less. Of course Tony Stark made sure his teammates had more than adequate accommodations.

“Always early L/n.”

The redhead’s familiar sultry voice grabs your attention, causing you to spin around from the window to look at her.

She’s as gorgeous as she’s ever been. Admittedly the long hair suits her better, still damp from the shower she obviously just took and falling down her bare shoulders. Subconsciously your eyes trail down her tank top and yoga pants covered form.

“Eyes up here.” She further teases and your eyes snap up to hers.

“Sorry it's just- you look good Romanova. Really good.” You say breathily.

The urge to just dive head first back into your charm hits Natasha hard. She’s seen you for all of a day and apart from your physical, you seem to be the same person she was falling for all those years ago. The only people she’s ever fallen for.

In the next few minutes, Natasha makes coffee, telling you to wait in the living room for her. Only to return shortly after to hand you a cup, and ease on to the sofa.

Pulling her legs up to tuck underneath her butt, she faces you as you sit beside her, a noticeable distance between you two.

“How long?” She asks almost cautiously, clarifying when you raise your eyebrows.“ How long have you had your abilities?”

“Three years.”

A heavy sigh leaves her lips. Two years after she left HYDRA took over your organization and turned you into a super soldier. She can’t help but wonder what may have happened if she were still around.

Would you have needed her comfort? Could she have stopped it?

Suddenly a weight lands on her knee, a glance down revealing your hand comfortingly resting there.“ There’s nothing you could’ve done. I wanted the serum, just not for the reasons they gave it to me.”

She silently nods, eyes casting back down to the hand on her leg.

Whether or not she mentions it out loud, she missed your touch, even the ones as simple as this. Something about the way your touch affected her, be it arousing or calming, occasionally featherlight with the intent to cause laughter from the usually stoic woman.

A mental sigh brings the thought to the forefront of her mind. It’s not just your touch, it’s you as a whole. Your energy, your aura, your personality, your smile.

How she’d gone five years without you?

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice pulls Natasha from her thoughts and she looks back up into your soft eyes, hurt hides in them that makes her frown and nod.“ Did you ever consider coming back? Or even contacting me?”

The look that crosses her face is answer enough but she still says,“ more often than you’d think. In the beginning, all I could think about was going back to you and never leaving. I considered finding you just to say goodbye.”

“Talked yourself out of it huh.” It’s a statement not a question. Another nod to how well you read her.“ Figured I was better off without you and the enemies you come with, even if my life was dangerous long before you.”

She shakes her head, chuckling at how easily you saw through her reasoning when she hadn’t even admitted it herself.“ Can I contribute that conclusion to you having mind reading abilities?”

“You can if it’ll make you feel better but it’s not true,” your thumb smooths across her knee in the same way it always had.“ I never had to read your mind.”

Much like she always had when it came to you, Natasha allows herself to take just one more risk. She let you in the first time, hopefully this time would end better or not at all.

Laying her hand over yours, her fingers wrap around your hand,“ I’m really glad to see you again.”

* * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #reader insert

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heauxzenji · 3 years

Text

Szn’s Creamings

Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader

Warnings: oof a lot sorry- eggnog(its delicious and you’re all just mean), corruption if you squint, clandestine sex I guess? Choking, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), nipple play, the Miya accent, improper use of Christmas decorations, bondage, unprotected sex(you should know to expect this from my writing by now), vaginal penetration, squirting, creampies/breeding, use of the word daddy like ONCE, cum eating, a dash of overstim for optimal flavor, ahegao (😌) aaaaand snowballing (aka spitting cum in someone’s mouth) swearing obviously ummmmm shit man idk anymore I’m 999% sure that’s it- good shit below da cut

Wc: 2.5k

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and a VERY Happy Holiday no matter your culture’s festivities! This is part of my collab with my lovely friends in The Sewer Server- @rat-suki ty anu for organizing it all! I’m love u. This fic was written in an eggnog & fireball induced blackout, and is singlehandedly fueled by lust for Osamu’s Dorito body and my love for Steak n’ Shake.

Cheese-on’s Greetings Collab mlist here 🎄🎁🐁

“This... is it?” He cocked an eyebrow at the concoction, the red and green sprinkles bleeding dye into the whipped cream, the sad cherry on top sunken into it.

“This is what you’ve been goin’ on about fer the last 3 weeks?”

This- was an eggnog milkshake. A wintertime classic, and a staple at the local diner in your hometown. Simple enough. It didn’t look like much- in fact, it honestly wasn't. But to you, this shitty, artificially-flavored diner milkshake encompassed all the joys of holiday magic into one tall, frosted glass. You could count the years you spent in this diner, knocking them back. You’ve grown of course, but the nostalgia always stays the same. Having Osamu come to your hometown for the holidays was a pretty big step in your relationship, sure, but including him in the milkshake tradition usually reserved for your best friend? That was even bigger.

“You haven’t even taken a sip, you ass,” you giggled, putting your own straw to your lips, reveling in the cool flavor that was coating your tongue. Pure sugar, just a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon- perfect as always. You pushed the glass over to him, urging him to try for himself. He took in a large drink, letting it rest before clicking his tongue a few times and looking over at your eyes- eyes that were aglow with anticipation and gingerbread men? No, that was just the reflection of the gaudy tinsel that adorned the booth you sat in.

“Soooo?”

“Not bad,” he sighed, pushing the glass back your way. Always anticlimactic.

“But I could definitely make one that’s better.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

One thing you knew he could never resist was a challenge. Grabbing his wallet, he slammed some bills on the table, whisking you away from the diner in 2 minutes flat, the milkshake an ever present memory, like that of the favorite Christmas gift from childhoods passed. You didn’t think he’d take it that seriously, but you also knew that Osamu took everything- especially food- seriously.

Even still, the drive back to your parents’ was a calm one, like every night adventure. The only difference was the bitter cold in the air, and the soft crooning of songs about Santa Claus on the radio. The only thing was- you just couldn’t stop pressing your thighs together….

“Put it away, sir.” you said jokingly, shifting your current position on the couch. Miracle on 34th Street shown on the small screen of the television as you flicked through what seemed like every Christmas movie ever made with the remote. The feeling of his cock starting to stiffen at your back told you everything you needed to know; that Osamu wasn’t interested in whether or not Santa Claus was real, or whatever the ‘true’ meaning of Christmas was- he was solely interested in the meaning of that which currently resided between your legs.

A sneaky had drifted under your shirt, breath hitching in your throat as his thick fingers rolled one of your nipples, the soft tugging leaving you mewling as the sensation traveled down to your now throbbing clit. You leaned into it for a split second, but you were bought back to reality by the sight of your family’s Christmas photos on the fireplace mantle. There was no way in hell you could get fucked in front of a photo of your grandmother. You swatted Osamu’s hand away.

“We can NOT do this right now-” your words fell on deaf ears as his hand snaked up your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake as he settled them right above your stomach, fiddling with the drawstrings of your shorts.

“My mom and dad are literally upstairs….” The words left your mouth faintly your body lurching toward him.

Again, you tried. A valiant attempt. It wasn’t a lie- they most certainly were upstairs, presumably fast asleep, as they had been up there for almost two hours now, leaving you and Osamu to watch a few corny Christmas movies- or so they thought. But he saw through your objections. Hearing the way your voice softened, seeing how your chest wavered as he got closer and closer to your face, he simply couldn’t contain himself.

“It’s not my fault ‘ya wanted to stay here,” he huffed, large hands seizing your own, pushing away their protests as he passed his thumb up and down your clothed slit. You bit your lip in an effort to silence the moan that was bubbling its way up and out of your mouth. You had started to become feverish, your own state of vulnerability apparent as Osamu used one arm to pin your wrists above your head, sending your lower half flailing and bucking up into his free hand as you whimpered desperately for his touch.

“You want it, don’t ya, little love?” Little love. The one pet name you could never resist. Almost like a switch, you moaned a particularly needy, not-so-hushed “hmmhm- yes, daddy,” that definitely would have blown your cover. Luckily, Osamu’s thick fingers worked their way into your mouth to silence you, your lips immediately wrapping around them and obediently sucking to heed his words.

“Just be s’quiet as possible,” his hushed tone came out in a low baritone. He pressed a finger to his lips, pointing another up toward the ceiling from the couch of your parents living room.

Keeping your arms restrained, your boyfriend’s free hand pushed past your layers of clothes, your saliva coated his fingers, providing just enough slickness to enter your hole with ease, gently curling against that soft spot right inside. You were so warm, so needy, easily molding into his touch as he watched your eyes widen within his. You fixed your mouth to open, but it hung there as his fingers worked, your cunt sucking them in manically.

“F-fuck,” you could barely manage that. “Please I-hmph- please…”

“Use yer words, little love,” he cooed, the tone of his voice was sickeningly slow as he teased you, slowing his fingers down. You bucked your hips in protest, pouting and wiggling underneath him to feel some form of friction.

“Stop Squirmin’.” His demeanor shifted immediately, darkening at your perceived disobedience. The hands that held your wrists met your throat, a half gasp escaping you as he gently squeezed, your face softening into a pout.

“I said- use yer words.”

“Please, please fuck me,” you squeaked. “F-fill me up.”

“Then we gotta find a way t’keep ya nice n’ still. Will you be good fer me?”

You nodded. You always were. Osamu’s ability to render you a compliant, malleable toy for him to fuck was astounding. You could spend the rest of your life being his obedient little thing without a care in the world or a complaint.

“I know ya will,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “My little love’s always s’good…”

You knew you were in for it- but you didn’t expect this. It was a little different from your normal setup, but at the same time, the rush of excitement built in the pit of your stomach just as it did the first time ‘Samu ever bound you. It just so happened that there were some discarded lights nearby the Christmas tree. You could see the glimmer of an idea in his eyes as he plugged them in, smiling as the glow lit up his face. He looked at you on the couch and wiggled his eyebrows- as much as you wanted to laugh out loud, you weren’t in the position to be picky about your rigging tonight. You had to make do.

“It’s…. festive?” You could tell that even he was amused. But amusement aside, the desire that built between you, the stored tension of having not touched each other for almost two days now was clearly screaming to be addressed. His large hands made a bite in the wiring of the lights and they quickly found themselves around your wrists, the illumination beautiful, but also kind of blinding this close to your face. With a kiss to your lips, he moved from your wrists and down toward your torso, trailing an interesting track of holiday cheer into a harness around your chest and tying in your back. Your arms were bent forward at the elbow, snugly enough so that you could wiggle your fists, but your wrists were of no use.

Pushing you onto your knees, you felt the press of your boyfriend’s hand against your back as he repositioned your arms and elbows to place you on all fours. Cool air immediately hit the skin of your lower half as you felt him pull your bottoms off. You wriggled your hips in an effort to help, but instead your flesh was met with an aggressive strike. Managing to catch your discomfort in your throat, a lowered hiss bared through your gritted teeth, soon followed by a sharpened inhale as you felt the presence of him towering over you.

“Been thinking about the way those cute lips were wrapped around that straw all night,” he panted, palming his cock through his sweats. You could see how uncomfortably hard he was- it lit a fire in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t wait to serve him, you couldn’t wait to feel the weight of his thick cock against your tongue- and stretching your pussy past it’s limits.

“I bet’cher sweet mouth wrapped around my cock would look even prettier, don’t ya think?”

His words hit at your core. Your mouth began to water in anticipation as he pulled himself out of his sweats, gently pumping before lining up at your mouth.

Delicately, your tongue swirled down the slit of the head, plush lips wrapping around the pink bulb. Osamu’s hands guided your head down the length, drool sliding out of your mouth and down your chin, where it dripped onto your chest, riddled with bright multicolored light. Slowly, he fucked himself with your throat, allowing you to adjust to his girth.

“Yep,” he exhaled deeply, hissing at how warm your mouth felt around him.

“Ev’n prettier.”

His motions sped up as he bobbed your head up and down, the slight saltiness of his precum going down easily, leaving you practically begging for a full load. You always craved him on your tongue- he tasted much better than any diner milkshake could. The soft gargling of his assault on your throat slowed to a stop as he pulled you off, leaving you gasping for air. Licking the drool from the corners of your lips, Osamu kissed you passionately before throwing your bound body onto the couch.

You clenched haphazardly around his cock as soon as he entered you, head flying forward with the force of his thrusts. His arm held you upright, parallel to his chest as his cock pistoned in and out of your hole.

“‘S-sa-ah!~ ‘Samu- ffuck!” Your eyes snapped shut as he fucked into you. His breathy grunts resounded deep in your ears, sending jolts of molten lust down your spine, chest heaving as you tried keeping your voices down. Your hot, wet cunt sucked him in deeper and deeper each time he entered you- your urge to milk him for everything he had was only made more apparent by it.

“I can feel you baby,” He purred into your ear. “So fucking wet.”

Osamu released you from his hold, letting you fall forward into the couch, one hand pushing your head into the cushions, the other roughly kneading at the flesh where your ass and hip met, digging his nails into the flesh as he began to carnally pound into your pussy. Each stroke hit your sweet spot with a ridiculously precise skill. Your muffled sobs echoed into the cushions of the couch as he drilled you, never once slowing the rate in which his hips snapped into yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if the smacking of his skin against yours woke your parents at this rate- you couldn’t be bothered to care with your orgasm this close to the horizon.

Somehow you managed to free a hand from your twinkling ties, immediately pushing it to your clit to rub it feverishly. The squelching started up shortly after, your ears beginning to ring as your throat squealed itself raw into the deep void beneath you. Osamu pulled you back by your hair, pressing his lips to your ear and clasping a hand to your mouth.

“Keep rubbing that pretty pussy, sweet girl, so fucking close to cumming fer me, aren’t ya?”

You could only whine in response. He softened the hand on your mouth, muffled words spilling out.

“I’m gonna cu-ah-cum! Please let me cum!”

“Hmmm? Gonna cum? Did I hear ya right, little love?” He knew what he was doing, egging you on like this.

You were mere milliseconds away from losing it, the edge pulling up to you so close that you could barely collect yourself as you began to feel yourself slip over it- eyes whiting out as Osamu gave you the go-ahead.

“Just let me c-” he finished your sentence for you.

“Cum.” It was a simple word, a simple command. But the way it hit your ears: the way the low growl tore through your body- you didn't stand a chance. The warm wetness of your release sprayed against his abs, trickling down your thighs and pooling into the upholstery. Your eyes crossed, face contorting further into lewd bliss as a scream tried to escape your mouth- but only silence hiccuped its way out.

“Good fucking girl- now take this, baby. Take it all…” God, he was the devil.

Fucking you through it- your boyfriend chased his own high, cock twitching inside as the vision of you wrapped in lights blurring into colorful stars as he spilled into you, his load coating your insides with a mass of sticky, soothing heat. You both collapsed into each other, bodies writhing as you caught your heavy breaths.

As he slipped out of you, Osamu lifted your hips to his mouth, sucking in the mixture of his and your own release, savoring it on his tongue. Your puffy, fucked-out cunt spasmed at the contact, the sensation overwhelming as you tugged at his steely grey locks, snapping his head back.

“Hmmph- s’too much ‘Samu!” Your thighs clamped together as soon as he released you.

Humming a soft apology, he moved up from your lower lips to the upper ones, pushing his tongue past them, spitting arousal across your tongue. You swallowed the mixture greedily, smiling against his lips. You could still feel ropes of cum pouring from your spamming hole and leaking onto your thighs.

“Whaddaya think?” The words were slurred against the skin at the crook of your neck while he peppered your skin with kisses.

“Delicious.” You looked at him with a smirk, mind still hazy as your body shook its way through a few more aftershocks.

“Told ya I could make a better milkshake.”

As he said it, laughter broke out between the two of you. Your chest struggled against the harness, as it was still pretty tight. Osamu unplugged the decorations, gently untying you as snow fell outside your living room window, the faint jingling of bells filling the room again as the tv light illuminated you both.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @ukeis @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

#cheese on’s greetings #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #osamu smut #osamu x reader #daisy’s red light district 🚨#haikyuu headcanon #hq headcanons #hq writing #haikyuu writing #haikyuu fic #hq fic

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babytaes · 3 years

Text

afterglow

➳ summary: You, too, lived in a colorless world, trying to connect with it. How long would you have to wait for that one to brighten it up and let you see the real world?

❥ pairing: wonwoo x female reader

❥ genre: angst, fluff, kinda soulmate au.....?

❥ word count: 7k (sorry, mans is my bias and I had to ;)

❥ warning: mentions of death.

➳ part of the song series

↳ Imagine a world like that,

We go like up 'til I'm 'sleep on your chest

Love how my face fits so good in your neck

You had a twin brother who was everything to you. Everything was always you two, from the endless amounts of laughter to the sneaky efforts to take Christmas cookies early in the morning.

With him, everything seems to be so colorful; in your lifetime, everyone was given a companion who may be a friend, sibling, or lover. It was simply something that you treasured. As a result, the alternatives were numerous.

You had no idea how much his life meant to you. He was your second half, and now you'd been split in half, with one gone and the other remaining.

Months passed, and your relationship with him became increasingly dimmer and dimmer. The brilliant hues faded in and out, with black and white patches becoming more prominent.

That awful day, unfortunately, was the last time you saw color. His light had faded from the world, and all that was left was black and white.

With him gone, your entire life seemed pointless, even your day-to-day existence. No splash of color to brighten things up.

“Y/N, I'll never forget you, big sister. Thank you for the enjoyable and considerate memories, and don't let this stunt your growth, please do that for me. As the beeper went off, he began to cough incessantly.

“Helpppp anyone.” As your parents draw you back into their arms, you hear many doctors rush into the room.

There was nothing they could do; his hue had vanished from this world. When you opened your tear-streaked eyes and examined your hands, you noticed that the formerly vivid cream palms had turned gray.

As if all colors were abruptly bleached out of the world, revealing a universe of whiteness—the rainbow, flowers, trees, and art, everything freshly bleached and pearled. The last vestige of color had vanished from your life, and you had been broken since then, heartbroken over the loss of your dearest friend.

“Y/n, hey you're good, we could use your help.” As you glanced to the side, you noticed that one of your employees had just spilled some water from the mop bucket.

As you approach their side, you assist them in mopping up the mess while sweeping aimlessly across the floor, making sure to get every spot. Due to your new life of no color it reflected on your life emotionally.

As the days passed, you became increasingly depressed and unmotivated. There wasn't a single day when you didn't feel mopey or lonely. It wasn't like anyone could help me; it was just the challenge of living a life without color.

Although you sincerely desired to overcome this phase of your life and simply find the right person to fill that void, life did not work in your favor at the time. Everyone around you seemed to be looking for or had already found their "person."

All you wanted was to find the person who could restore your hope and love, which had been taken away when your brother died. Your parents did everything they could to assist you, including setting you up on strange and ineffective dates that just added to your unhappiness.

Nobody could replace that color that your brother provided for you, or maybe someone could?

"I'm off," you remarked as you pulled off your apron and clocked out in the back. As you stepped out the door, you heard a flurry of goodbyes before closing it behind you.

The world never shifted when the clock struck five.

As you strolled down the crowded streets, the sky before and above you remained grey, never letting up that cloak of shade. A melodious music gradually pours into your ears as you go down the bustling sidewalk.

You follow the dazzling yet tranquil sound of the guitar aimlessly as you imagine music notes flying through the fall air. You cautiously open your tired eyes and spot the crowd to figure out where these tunes are coming from.

Looking up, you spotted a swarm encircling a male, but you couldn't tell who it was. However, it was the music that drew you in; you'd heard that melody before. Even if you weren't musically inclined, you could hear that tune anywhere.

It was his, the one he wrote for you.

You dashed outside to see your brother strumming a tune on the grass with his guitar. Your brother possessed a talent for music. It is a condition that many people are born with, and you were fortunate that your brother was one of them.

He didn't go a day without making up or humming something he'd learned. It was frustrating to hear it every day, but it was still lovely to witness his enthusiasm for it.

“Hey, what are you cooking up this time?” As he began to strum the guitar, he turned around and grinned at you. You couldn't understand what he was mumbling, but it sounded lovely as his fingers casually slid across the strings.

“I don't have the lyrics yet, but I'm sure they'll come. You laughed and nudged his shoulder.

“Just don’t go play at 3 in the morning. Okay?”

“It's not my fault that's typically when the inspiration comes,” he grumbled as he rolled his eyes.

As you raced away from him, you swiftly took his guitar, saying, "Well, I guess that inspiration will have to wait." He leapt from his seat and dashed towards you, yelling your name.

You had no idea that would be his final song; you regret not listening to the finished product; you never knew if he finished it. However, when you got closer to the enticing sound, you observed a young man strumming a guitar, and your ears perked up.

A slender man with long fingers and a quirky side smile, perhaps a musician, delicately touched a golden acoustic guitar, playing her ever so elegantly. You stand there, enthralled by the song, as his hands strum and tug the steel strings of the guitar. You take a cautious step closer to him in order to get a better look.

Allowing the music to take control of your body, you take a deep breath and allow an ounce of hope to creep in. From miles away, the formerly lovely and alive girl could be seen racing to you as you opened your arms to her.

You tried desperately to reach her before she vanished into thin air. The glint had disappeared. As you slowly open your eyes, you notice the man stop playing and gazes up at the audience.

As a smile crept across your face, the edges of your lips began to curl up. You'd forgotten what a smile looked like; you hadn't seen one in a long time, and it just felt natural. Even though he was gone, you could sense his presence. As you began to back away from the mob, tears began to flow freely from your eyes.

As you faded from his view and moved away from the crowd, the boy cast a peek at you. You swear you saw a glimpse of color rushing through your orbs, even if it was just for a split second. You couldn't tell if this was a joke or a new experience for you because you were more terrified than excited.

Could you trust that vision? Would they leave your life like he once did or would they stay? (IT)

Although you wanted to stay and figure it out you had somewhere to be and you didn’t want anyone to waste that special time.

(1 hour later)

Opening the rusted gate and looking at the wrought iron fences sends shivers down your spine as you are whisked back to that tragic day.

As you headed towards the pit, a crack formed in your heart. As they lowered his casket into the black abyss, the steady steps of feet carried it there. Countless shadowy figures form a procession, speaking in unison to pay their respects to the one you cherish. Your inner essence is corrupted by despair, and your heart bleeds like a river inside. Nothing could ever make you feel better.

As they began to fill the hole with dirt, tears welled up in your eyes, prompting you to lower your head. He didn't want you to be sad; he knew his time was coming to an end, yet he felt so safe in his final days.

He wasn't going to abandon you; he'd promised you that he'd left you something to aid you along the path. Even if that were the case, you never discovered it after four years. You rummaged through his room and tore it apart.

You quickly recognized that he was either joking or that the drug had taken effect in his brain and he was talking gibberish. In any case, you made a pledge to visit his grave every day from that day forward to keep him company and to keep yourself sane.

---

Clutching onto your bag, the leaves crunched beneath your feet as you peered about. You see specks of people strewn throughout the cemetery as you hear some speak in low whispers. It didn't take you long to find his gravestone.

You noticed the dead flowers drooping over as you took them out of their vase beside the tomb. Replacing them always brought joy to your heart as the sight of a fresh bouquet of flowers brightened the somber ambiance, which contrasted with the mold-infested tomb.

Taking out your cleaning supplies and speaker, you start working on his tomb while listening to his favorite music. As you hummed along with the song, your soft-bristle brush softly scrubbed the headstone in an orbital motion from bottom to top, carefully avoiding the fissures.

As you finished the soap, you began to rinse the stone as dirt and debris began to fall off the tomb. Although you couldn't determine if everything was off, you could plainly see the phrases and symbols, which was a good hint to stop cleaning everything off.

You wanted to do more for him and not leave any dirt on the surface. But because everything was gray, you couldn't tell, which made you sulk as you put down your brush. As you check the clock on your phone, you exhale a sigh of relief.

7:23p.m

Looking around, you noticed the stragglers had dispersed, leaving you alone as you gazed up at the sky.

“I hope the sunset looks beautiful today, I do miss it.”

The late evening sunset was the one thing you missed more than your brother; you had always admired how everything just flowed and fit together in the evening sky. It's almost as if someone began painting and simply let their hand float through the air.

As you turned to face his tomb, another smile appeared on your face, prompting you to go into your bag for something. As you placed down a cup for you and him, you chuckled at the bottle revealed beneath the sky.

“Lucas, here's to another day. It's been difficult in recent years, but today was a good day. I sensed your presence through the music of some random person; it was strange, but I'm glad I was there to see it. So thank you,” you say, raising your shot glass in the air and taking a sip.

As you heard a voice, you wiped a stray tear from your face.

“I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“Shit, what the hell,” you cursed the dark figure, startled and terrified. Who is there? As you squint your eyes at him, a male emerges from the shadows.

It's him.

----

You cough as you stand up and face the nameless man, he extends his hand as his glasses slide down his narrow nose, “Hi I’m Wonwoo.”

You take his hand in yours and shake it slowly, his grip firm until you let go.

“Hi..wonwoo? “I'm Y/n.” As the boy grinned at you, your voice was barely audible.

He takes a careful step alongside you and sits down close to your brother's grave, placing a case beside him. As you enlarged your eyes and sat down next to him, still observing him, the atmosphere felt reassuring but strange.

“I apologize for startling you; I didn't know that you were there. I’m not sure if your brother mentioned me but I was his friend, we used to write songs together.” As he turned to face you, you noticed the tall man attempting to cross his legs.

You shook your head as you began to gather your belongings, unsure of who this man was. For all you knew, he may be lying to you, so you needed to get out of there as soon as possible. You rose up and began walking away after securing the zipper on your backpack.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave. I can come back another time. I am truly sorry if I interrupted anything."

“No, it's fine,” you say with a shake of your head and outstretched hands.

“Are you sure?”

You walk away again, nodding your head as you hear his voice and a familiar tune.

You came to a halt in your tracks as you slowly turned around to face the boy after hearing a faint melody. As your ears perked up, you heard a low voice.

‘I stand still before you before me. I’m okay, not okay..” The lyrics faded out as you started to find your bearings again as you made your way out of the cemetery. As you stepped toward the road, you strapped your bag on, making sure you had everything you needed.

A girl out on a walk is something you can see every day, yet you were unique. You walked as if you and the road had reached an agreement, as if the concrete was more than eager to support your feet.

The road understood you.

*Ping*

The light of your phone lit up as you clicked on the message.

Mom: Hey sweetie, I dropped off some food at your apartment and did some tidying up. Get home safety.

You: Thanks mom.

Her message brought back memories of days when you and her would cook together and simply bond over the end result. You missed it. Because you live in different places, you don't get to see your parents very frequently, yet they always made time for you.

I wish you could do the same; home is just too much for you to stomach, and you'd rather avoid it.

You reach the corner street after a few more steps, ready to begin your one-mile trek home. As you look back after exhaling a sigh, you hear rumbling on your feet. An automobile approached you, its bright headlights blazing directly at you.

You shifted to the side, squinting your eyes at the sight, and wonwoo greeted you again before you realized it. He grinned at you with his dazzling whites as he bent his head down.

what is with this guy?

Hey, hop in, I'll give you a ride. It's becoming late, and I don't want you walking through here.” As you took a step back, wary of the stranger, he moved his hand closer to you.

“Um.. No-no I’m okay. However, thank you.” As you heard his engine trailing behind you, you began to walk faster. He followed you for a few seconds longer before you came to a complete halt and stared at him.

Through the windshield, you could see him smirk as he waved his hand to you.

“It'll be a lot faster, and if you're worried I'll kidnap you or anything, don't fret. I'm allergic to cats, and I'm a cat person myself. As a result, I assure you that I will not harm you. I just wanted to help a friend.” You moved over to his car, smiled a little, and hopped in, securing yourself with your seatbelt.

“If you do anything I have some bleach and I’m not afraid to use it,” he chuckled at you as he started the car and proceeded to exit the cemetery.

“You’re funny.”

As you gave wonwoo your address he proceeded to drive out of the rural neighborhood as you put your head on the window. You didn't realize it at the time, but you could feel his penetrating glances.

The car was quiet as the low sounds of music vibrated through the car. When you weren't driving, car journeys were the best since they enabled your mind to fantasize and paint over the enormous landscape you were seeing. That haven you built in your imagination calms you and makes you feel protected. The place where you may get away from reality.

As soon as your eyes close for the night, you hear him humming a familiar tune. Rather than remaining silent, you begin a conversation with him, inquiring as to how he learned the song.

“So how did you meet Lucas?” As he laughed, he cast a peek at you.

“Well, I met him at a college party a long time ago and discovered he makes music, so we used to meet up at a friend's studio and just create.” You lightly chuckled as a tear fell down your face as you nodded your head.

It was good to hear other people talk about your other half; it was almost as if he was there with you right now.

You were worried when he gave you brief glances since his eyes were off the road, but as he spoke, you felt protected because he spoke highly of your brother.

“Well, I'm not sure if he mentioned you, but the last song we were working on was one he wrote for you, and he said it was a gift.” As you turned to face him after hearing that final statement, your eyes widened.

“He—he said those exact words, a gift?”

As he rounded the corner and approached your apartment complex building, he shook his head. You could see his shoulder resting on the window sill as he put the car in park.

You hesitantly walk out of the car, stuttering as you gather your belongings, and turn to face him.

“Thank you for the ride; did Lucas mention anything else about the song?” “He wasn't quite finished with it, but he did give me and my other friend some crucial stuff to get it done,” he said as you pressed your face closer to the window.

Your heart began to race as you realized that things were beginning to turn around for you; perhaps this wonwoo boy was destined to be in your life. Lucas' way of demonstrating that he took great care of you.

“Would you like to work on it together sometime?”

Inside, it felt as if the creatures were finally waking up from their rehabilitation and making their way into the real world. Even if it took a while, this new form of relief made you feel alive again. You were adamant about working more to reclaim your color.

In some way, wonwoo was the key to it all.

“Yes, a hundred times yes,” you answered, smiling like a kid in a candy store as you handed him your phone. “Just let me know when you're free.”

Wonwoo returned your phone to you, which you joyfully accepted and placed in your pocket. As you walked to your door, you waved your hand at him and cried out to him one final time.

“Thank you”

“For what?” As you entered the flat and locked the door behind you, you waved your hand at him. You let out a sigh and shake your head as you slid down to the floor.

“What a day”

---

(4 weeks later)

It seemed like you and wonwoo had entered a very unique connection in the last few weeks. He made every effort not to cross any boundaries, both physically and emotionally. Regardless of the fact that you were his closest friend's sister, he was always respectful to you.

Even if that is what he sees from his perspective, you felt more alive when you were with him. Although you could still see gray and couldn't bask in all of his glory, it gave you hope that one day, whenever that time came, you'd be able to see him and everything else.

That was something you lacked previously: hope. Everyone around you including your parents could see a significant change in your life.

“Hey, honey, how's it going at work?” Before taking your purse, your mother kissed your cheek and opened the door for you.

As you met her at your old house, a smile emerged on your face. It was your first visit home in a while, and seeing you there brought joy to their hearts, despite the difficult years you've had.

“Everything has been going well, and I just wanted to drop by and see how you're doing. I miss seeing you and dad.”

“Is that my beautiful daughter, am I seeing things right?” your father exclaimed as he emerged from the back. As a tear trickled down your cheek, you watched as he raced over to you and hugged you.

As he stared at your face and admired it, the hue in front of you remained gray.

“Such lovely brown eyes," It pained your soul that you couldn't remember what they looked like since gray dulled everything and made you forget.

“Thank you, dad, but instead of fawning me, let's play some games. Just because life is bleak doesn't mean I can't be your ass at Monopoly.”

Your mother, gasping at your remark, watched from the back, her eyes welling up with tears as she marveled at a sight she hadn't seen in a long time.

“Moooom, don't start sobbing or dad will start crying,” you said as you turned around.

She comes over to your side and wraps you and your father in a hug, sandwiching you between them. It felt good because you were missing these times with your folks. You couldn't stay at home when your brother died; you had to leave and get away. Everything was just too much for you as things started to remind you of him.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“I'm really proud of you for coming here and having the confidence to do so. I understand how difficult it must be for you, but thank you.” Through the loud sniffles between you all, you started to feel warm as you wiped your tears.

“All right, no more crying; let's get down to business.” You dashed over to the couch and snatched up Monopoly from the board game box, motioning for them to join you. They chuckled as you began to pull everything out as they made their way over.

As loud yells and laughter echoed out throughout the home, the night was fresh and enjoyable. There were times when you were terrified you'd lose, but you couldn't let your champion status lapse.

Your mother said, "Noo, you're cheating."

“No, I'm not; there's a house there, and you need to pay up or I'll put you in jail.” Between the two, your father snickers and keeps his mouth shut. He was well aware of the rules.

“All right, but that wasn't there before.”

With a chuckle, you shook your head and held out your hand, saying, "excuses excuses."

As you turned off your alarm, it rang at 8:00 p.m. You wouldn't have realized the difference between night and day if it hadn't been for alarm clocks. You jumped up in triumph after placing one more piece on the board.

“And that's why I remain Monopoly's ruler.”

You witnessed your parents give up as they lifted their hands in surrender. They both remark, "Fine, you win," as they begin to clean up the mess. Taking the stray cups and bowls from the tables you set them in the sink as you turned to watch your parents.

It's been a long time since you've been back here, and you've certainly missed the atmosphere. Lucas wouldn't want me to miss out on this opportunity.

“Why don't I come on weekends and bring back board game nights?” As your parents turned back, you uttered, "Next time, I'll bring a friend."

“Oh, it would be wonderful; the more the better.”

As you walked back over to them, you hugged them as they kissed your head.

“You go, we'll take care of this; the drive back is long,” your father remarked as he took your bag and handed it to you.

“Thank you guys, and I love you and the night we just had.” As you approached the door, you waved goodbye before closing it.

“No thank you, love,” your mother said as she and your father watched you leave the home and get into your car.

After one last look at the house, you back out of the driveway and go down the street, looking forward to the day ahead.

Studio day!

You yawn as your body startles you up after taking a deep breath of fresh air. As you slowly open your eyes and look out the window, you breathe a sigh of relief. Something felt different. The chirping of the birds outside made you feel cheerful, not sad.

As your vision remained a little lighter, you began to blink your eyes faster. It wasn't your typical gray morning, and you thought it was growing lighter. The gray was gradually dissipating. You grinned as you considered your color returning.

What prompted this?

It didn't matter because today was dedicated to finishing your song; you, wonwoo, and his friend Mingyu had completed all but the title. You stretch one more time before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When you get to the mirror, you take a look at yourself. The person in front of you had radically transformed; she had forgotten about her flaws and insecurities, and her heart now held more love. This woman didn't pick apart everything that was wrong with her; instead, she supported herself.

She was unrecognizable, and the old girl in the mirror was finally slipping away. You began to smile more frequently and laugh a little more, and the air around you became warmer rather than frigid. Someone's love had seeped into her heart and begun to unfreeze its hardness.

And that person was wonwoo, which you didn't realize until you looked in the mirror. If you've observed it, chances are that others have as well. And you were grateful for his help in getting you out of that gloomy situation. You were able to regain your trust and begin letting people in again, which made you pleased.

Lucas would be incredibly proud of you, and you didn't want to disappoint him again. You intended to honor his memory and keep him alive in your heart, rather than allowing the past to plague you and prevent you from living your life.

He would have wanted that.

As you stepped inside, you turned on the shower and stripped off your clothing. You had to find a method to repay wonwoo for his compassion. You would not have gotten this far without him and his musical gift, and you were grateful for him.

"I could take him to our place," you offer as you turn off the water and grab a towel from the shower.

“Yeah he would like that.”

----

Work seemed to fly by as your mind raced at a hundred miles per hour. You had everything planned out and had recruited the support of your parents to help you set up.

Your manager tapped your shoulder and asked, "Hey y/n, you okay?" As you dropped the pencil, you flinched.

“Oh sorry, just spacing out.” He shook his head as he spoke out, “For the rest of your shift you can take off if you want, we’re going to close earlier than usual. If you're leaving, clean out the coffee machine and be on your way.”

You enlarged your eyes as your jaw dropped, and you raced into his arms, squeezing him tightly. Your boss chuckled awkwardly as he gently pushed you away from him. For some reason, everything seemed to be working in your favor today. As you rush to get ready, you begin working on the machine, your smile never leaving your face.

You sped to the back room, clocking out and placing your apron into your locker, as you were done in no time. As you walked to the front, you waved goodbye to your manager before heading to your car in the parking area.

“What's the matter with her? That's the first time I've ever seen her that happy. Hmm”

And with that you were on your way to your parents house as you sent a quick text to wonwoo. As you grinned as you placed your phone in the dash holder, you came to a stop light.

You: Hey cancel today's session, I have a place to go to. It may also provide us with better title recommendations. You down??

Wonwoo:) Yes, that sounds excellent; the studio can become claustrophobic. Send me the address and a time frame for my arrival.

You: *address name*. Bring your guitar and meet there in 2 hours.

Wonwoo:) Oh okay. Can’t wait to see you there!

(read 5:45 p.m.)

Even though you weren’t nervous you wanted everything to be special, wonwoo deserved it for all that he has done for you in the past weeks.

You let yourself go as you blast songs down the road, pressing play on your playlist. You didn't notice it at first, but the color was gently sneaking in as you drove around. As creams and beige colors drifted in and out, the outsides of your eyes began to lift.

As you turned off the headlights and opened the door, it didn't take long for you to arrive at your destination. You smiled as you got your belongings from the car and made your way up the hill, finding your parents already set up.

You drop your belongings on the blanket and walk up to hug them, saying, "Hey guys." As they begin to chat with you, they embrace you in a friendly hug.

“So we set up all of the essential elements, such as lighting, a seating area, and refreshments in the cooler and basket.” As she began to indicate the various components, your mother explained. As she brought you around the hill to the tree, she took your hand in hers.

“You remember when you and Lucas did this?” You laugh as you remember that day as you place your palm on the antique carving.

-- “Noo I'd like to go first; you always go first.” You sighed as Lucas took up the knife and began carving his name into the tree.

“You better not cry and tell mom,” he remarked, turning to face you and seeing your glum demeanor. As you passed past him, you stood up straighter, rolling your eyes at him and snatching the knife from his grip.

“I'm not a baby like you,” you say. As he huffed and hurried toward mom, you heard him scoff.

“Mommmm y/n referring to me as a baby. And I'm not one of them. You stood there watching as he stomped his foot and landed on Mom's lap. Your father chuckles, rubbing his back and shaking his head at his wife.

As you return to the blanket, you cross your arms and say, "Well, then, quit acting like one."

That erupted in an outburst as he started to whine on mommy lap.

He did, in fact, act like a baby. Wiping a tear from your eyes as you chuckle, you hold your mother closer as you kiss her on the forehead.

“Hey we have an hour left before wonwoo get here, I'm going to head to the house to clean up. If he arrives early, keep him entertained.” As she watches you descend the hill, your mother shakes her head.

As you pull out of the parking lot, you put your foot down on the accelerator and drive over to your parents' house.

(45 minutes later)

Wonwoo approaches the destination, looking out the windshield as he spots some lights on the hill. As he steps out of the automobile, he notices two people moving around. He smiles as he collects his guitar from the rear and walks up the hill, noting the serene atmosphere.

“Those should go over by the tree and make sure they don't fall.” Wonwoo enters the place, his eyes widening. Fluorescent bulbs fanned out along the tops of the trees, each with a different picture on it, surrounding him.

As he looks down, he notices a blanket with a speaker playing music and the champagne.

Your parents finally turn around, gasping, when your mother rushes over to welcome him, saying, "Forgive us, we didn't hear anything, you must be wonwoo." That's y/n father over there, and I'm y/n mother.” As she introduces you to your father, she smiles and gives you a motherly look.

On this magnificent evening, only a few minutes had passed when you approached the hill once more. You take a brief glance in the mirror before applying some Chapstick. Rubbing it in you open the door as you look up on the hill, you hear conversations as you panic up the hill.

“So this is y/n, she was quite the messy twin when she was a baby-”

“What are you doing, Mom?” You walk over to her, ashamed, and place yourself between you and wonwoo, speaking quietly to her.

“I said to entertain him not embarrass me.”

“Oh, you're overthinking things; did you know he's friends with Lucas?” You chuckle as you grab your father and mother and begin bickering as you force them out of the location. As they descend the slope, they wave goodbye to you and wonwoo.

Taking one look at him, you notice his amusing state; he was cheesing so hard that his rosy cheeks were visible.

“Sorry about them.”

“It's fine; all parents do it.” They simply adore you.” You cross your legs and shake your head as you sit on the blanket, passing him a wine cup.

“To another wonderful day and a wonderful friendship.” Wonwoo takes out the champagne from the cooler as he opens it and sprays the excess in front of you.

“Ahh, you're spilling it” As you giggle at his action, the extra juice pours on your face. You reach for a napkin to wipe the wetness off your face as he takes one in front of you.

“Here, let me take care of it.” He leans in closer as he wipes the liquid from your face before resuming his seat. As your stomach begins to become a #1 gymnast, that simple action sends you spiraling.

“Th-thanks”

He smiles as he pours you a drink for both of you, and as he does so, you grab his guitar box and pry it open, admiring the golden beauty inside. Picking it up, you begin strumming a few chords of the nameless song while moving your head to the beat.

“Wow, you're actually pretty good.”

“I did have a good teacher, Lucas taught me a few things, but I only recall a few chords, so it may become irritating after a while.”

Wonwoo hands you the glass as you take it in your hand, and as you take a sip of the bubbly drink, you hand him the guitar.

As you take another sip, your spirits lift as you stare out at the scenery in front of you. You hear wonwoo begin to play the tune while you stare off towards the colorless world.

“Ruinous imagination consumes me. Makes me dream sweeter dreams, I close my eyes but thoughts of you. Bring noisy night, to you & me, real and dreamy.”

You sway back and forth as his voice soothes your body, his palm brushing over the guitar while his eyelids close, taking in the lyrics.

As you look up at him, you say, "Thank you." It's unavoidable, but tears stream down your face with no attempt to wipe them away.

“Th-thank you foreverythingyouhave-“ you say quickly and brokenly.

“Hey hey, calm down, I can't understand what you're saying,” he says as he scoots over to you and pats your shoulder. You both laugh as you start over, this time with more poise.

“I wanted to express my gratitude to you for genuinely improving my life. You probably don't know, but my relationship with Lucas was incredible; we were never apart, and when he passed, I couldn't live without him. I've struck rock bottom a few times and done some unfathomable things that I'm ashamed of, and I'm sincerely grateful that I've survived another day.”

Wonwoo drew you into a hug and caressed your back as he ceased patting your shoulder. As you sob into his shoulder, the tears begin to flow again.

“Sorry for interrupting, but it seemed like you needed one,” he says as you continue, releasing leave of you.

“To put it simply, you have brought me so much joy and optimism that I am overwhelmed. It's not the same without Lucas, but I'm grateful you entered my life at this point. So thank you; I don't know how to express my gratitude.”

You come to a halt as he looks at you through his round spectacles, and as you become concerned, you begin to look down.

“Sorry if I just spewed all that out.”

“No, it's fine.” I truly appreciate it, and I'm glad I was able to restore a sense of hope in your life. I may not be Lucas, but I will do my best to pay tribute to his memory.

You smile as you feel a wave of self-assurance and an overpowering sensation of bravery wash over you.

When you bring wonwoo closer to you and kiss him on the lips, everything inside of you turns on, and your body begins to feel alive again, exactly like it did before.

“I'm sorry I should have asked you first-“ You release him and lean back as you watch him.

He silenced your words with his lips as his hands wrapped around your neck.

Everything comes rushing back to you in an instant, like a blanket being pulled off of you. As you open your eyes again, you let go of each other. The difference this time is that you can see him.

As he smiled at you, you could see his cheeks flush with scarlet. You can see his silver rings around his slender fingers as his hands slip away from your neck.

You slowly turn around to face the sinking light on the horizon. As if a million scarlet petals have ignited, the sunset blooms on the horizon.

You expected the tears to flow this time as you stood up and walked closer to the cliff's edge. As you stared at the gorgeous view in front of you, you undoubtedly looked a mess.

You collapse to your knees and exclaim, "I can see it!"

Wonwoo approaches you slowly, bending down with you and holding you in his arms.

“See what?”

As you held him again, your snot-filled tear-streaked face turned to his.

“The color has returned, and I can see it now.” As he gasps, he pulls you back.

“Wait, are you serious, what color shirt am I wearing?”

“IT'S GREEN, YOUR SHIRT IS GREEN!!” Wonwoo scoops you up and spins you again in an instant. You lay another kiss on his lips as you chuckle into his lips, unsure of what to do.

The clouds floated into my life, not to bring rain or storms, but to add color to the sunset sky.

He picks up the polaroid camera off the ground and takes a candid shot of you. After he pecked your cheek once more, he smiled as he wanted to remember this special day.

You send wonwoo off to find a knife from the basket as the photo develops. You observe him as he runs around the area like a child, and you smile as the photo develops.

You've probably seen images where the background is blurred and the only thing in focus is the subject of the photograph. That was us. Every other detail became hazy as I concentrated on every facet of him.

You didn't realize how fortunate you were until now; he was the special someone you had wished for eons ago.

Everything felt even better when your color returned, and you knew deep down that everything was going to be well.

It was all because of wonwoo.

Your brother left you a gift, the lovely gift of music, which was seen via wonwoo.

Yes, your brother had been your best friend, and yes, he had left you. But, as you found a great friend, the life he presumably wanted for you had only just begun.

You hoped that with him, you would be able to treasure the love you had just as much as you did while you were together.

“Hey, wonwoo, I have a song title, also follow me.”

As he began heading toward you, he turned around and looked at you. You've both arrived at the same tree that was planted many years ago.

He gives you the knife as you start placing your name under your past self. As he watches you cry, Wonwoo does the same.

*Forever, Y/n, Wonwoo, and Lucas*

As he finishes up, you grab his hand and stroll back to the blanket setup. He takes a seat beside you and wraps his arm over your body.

“So, what are your thoughts?”

“Bittersweet, that's the title,” you said as you turned to face him.

“I love it,” he says as he pulls you closer to him with a nod of his head.

And with that, your brother's memory was carefully preserved, shared, and intended for all to hear.

“Lucas, I'll never forget you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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#seventeen #svt #seventeen jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt wonwoo #seventeen fics #seventeen writer #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen series #seventeen x reader #soulmate au #wonwoo fluff #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen masterlist #babytaes works

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sirensmojo · 3 years

Text

"Crossroads" - Michael Gray x Reader

Warnings: Big fluff.

Summary: You visit Michael in the hospital for the first time in years after his departure from your village.

*Masterlist*

A/N: this is my first Michael Gray fic, plz take that into consideration...

“There’s a girl asking to see you, Sir.” The nurse informed Michael, “Do you accept the visit?”

“Who is it?” His eyes lifted up from the white bedsheet he was staring at, blankly.

“A certain Y/N.”

At the announcement of your name, his dull eyes lightened up, but it didn’t last. His mind suddenly got clouded with the hundreds of questions he usually was asking himself when alone.

Were you alright? Did you get out of town as you promised each other, were you still visiting his “mother” on Wednesday's afternoons, were you angry at him for leaving you?

“Yeah, let her in.” His answer was full of apprehension, making the nurse unsure of letting you in. She stayed there watching as the man shifted position, trying to get comfortable as he knew your reunion wouldn’t be easy. “I said let her in,” Michael squinted his eyes at the nurse seeing she was still there, and that’s when she got out.

He exhaled deeply, mentally preparing himself but he couldn’t escape the tremendous flow of emotions washing over him.

You were his first love, the first girl he ever saw as a woman, even if you were still quite young. He just couldn't ignore the way he felt when he used to be with you, even after all this time, even after going out with other girls, your face never left him.

“Michael.” You hesitantly entered, unsure of the fact coming in here was a good idea.

You were in town for quite long now, but never took the time to search for him. Not because you didn't care, it was the opposite.

He had never kept from you his wish to leave your little village and you thought that maybe having you in his life now wouldn't bring him anything but memories of a place he wanted to forget.

But as the time passed, you realized you couldn't get him out your mind, no matter how hard you tried. No matter what you did, it all came back to him in the end.

His smile, laugh, touch and love, you missed everything.

You knew very well the Peaky Blinders, just like every Birmingham residents, and you knew he was one of them.

You used to tease him back then about him leaving the village after burning it or something, and here you were, him being part of a gang. This couldn't fit your Michael best.

He was a very intelligent, talented, kind and good person, but you always knew that deep down, this tranquillity was hiding a darker side, a deeper meaning of who he was.

It wasn't a surprise at all for you when you heard about his new life, you were even quite happy that he could express himself and evolve in a favourable environment.

He seemed preoccupied with something but his eyebrows unknitted at the sight of your face.

Your finger waved curls were perfectly falling on each side of your head, and Michael’s eyes were falling over your olive designed dress, tassels falling right under your knees.

He always loved this green on you, and that only hit you now.

The aggressively sexy green dress you told him you would, one day, wear in the streets so everybody could be shocked and talk about how a woman should dress.

If you remembered this detail this morning you wouldn’t have come in this dress. Now, Michael was looking at you with those gleaming eyes and you knew that when his eyes will lift up to yours, you’ll find in them the same sparks behind his iris as when you were younger.

Maybe coming in here truly was a bad idea.

“Y/N,” he kept a stern face but you were reading him like a book. His hands were clammy, his jaw clenched, his shoulders tensed along with all his muscles.

You could see he was as nervous as you, and you also knew that if you could read him that easily he probably could do the same with you.

Michael was sitting on his bed straight like an “I”, and that’s only when you sat at his side that he leaned backwards on his pillows.

That idea of knowing each other despite time and distance was what helped you to breathe out the air you didn't realize you were holding, leaving your chest less heavy.

You didn’t dare to stay in his eyes, too occupied searching for your cigarettes anyway. You got one out of their case and handed it to the man that was shamelessly staring at you.

“You changed.” Were his first words, and you couldn’t blame him.

Michael grabbed the cigarette and stuck it in between his fine lips before you came lightening up the tip of it for him.

When he left you were still growing up, rough look and only wearing the elegant blue pants your mother accepted you to wear. You were obsessed with pants and used to always argue about the fact women couldn’t wear them.

“Not a bit, and you haven’t either.” You teased him. It was obvious he changed, even the way he was talking was different, and you couldn’t even imagine what else in him had changed if the external changes were that evident.

His eyes drifted to you once again, what a surprise it was for him to see you dressed up as you were with your high heels.

Men have looked at you before, but the way Michael laid eyes on you was different, you found fondness in it, perhaps love? Because after all, there was still love between you, right?

Else his chest wouldn't raise that quickly and he wouldn't flutter his eyes when you would catch him staring at you.

He chuckled and offered you a warm smile before puffing on his cig. He got lost in thoughts for a moment, doing the french inhale.

Nevertheless, Michael seemed so much more distant than what you remember. Either he was staring, either he was blanking looking into the void.

He never talked too much either, but presently his silence could kill you. You just wanted to feel his hands all over you again, but you couldn't jump on him as if your story happened yesterday.

The atmosphere tensed, “I knew you would start smoking.” You let out in a huff. “Mrs Johnson was so wrong about you, it wasn’t me corrupting you, you always had it in your blood.” You concluded, the words escaping from your mouth as you were failing to stop them.

You got a cig for yourself and Michael watched you carefully, following each of your movements as if you were to disappear in a cloud of smoke if he’d just blinked.

“No,” He clenched his jaw and shook his head as his eyes darkened, "I found it here."

"Find you?"

He nodded slightly as puffing on his cig. 'You don't ask why I'm here?" He raised a brow towards you.

"I read the news, you're a peaky boy now." You winked at him.

"It's not what you think, Y/N." He was chuckling, shaking his head to both sides.

"Well, my Micheal wearing suits and being part of a dirty business, that's what I think and that's what it is. And that's sexy." You were so concentrated imagining him in his suit you didn't realize you called him yours, but Gray noticed it, which led to his lips stretching into a smile.

"I knew you were about to tell it." He flicks his fingers, looking at you with squinting eyes.

You took advantage of that exchange to look at his face, examining each of his features and internalizing everything you missed during these years apart.

"You're sexy Michael, deal with it already." You stated outright.

You always liked that about him. He wasn’t talking much, not with his words at least, but his eyes bore enough emotions by themselves. If they could talk they would spill hundreds of words on the paper with no difficulty.

"Yeah? Well, I prefer when you tell that in other circumstances."

His words echoed in your head and you didn't know if he was making a sexual reference or if he just woke up the horny you.

You tilted your head to the side a second, puffing on your cig before the tip of your fingers instantly reached for his soft skin. You were rubbing the side of his face gently with your knuckles when you remembered something.

“I left the village over a year after you, my mother died and I just couldn’t stay there, you know.” Talking was your way of coping with the fact you were reunited with your teenage love.

“I’m sorry.” His facial expression changed, he now understood why you were here. Not that he was unhappy about your visit, but he wouldn't have thought you’d ever leave this village.

“Everything I know is there” was the answer you gave him every time he encouraged you to go to the cities to try to make a living out of clothing. London, Birmingham, whatever, as long as you would be able to be who you wanted to be, and live your passion fully.

You wanted to make clothes and Michael had always been your number one fan, solely because he was the only one to see the gorgeous dresses you were sewing, but still your number one fan.

“I’m currently working to be able to own my workshop. So everything’s fine.”

He peeked at your lips while you were doing the french inhale, but ended up staring at your lips as if they were mesmerizing him.

You ignored that as well as you ignored all the signs he still felt things for you since you came into his room.

“Michael, the reason for my visit is family. I Know you found your biological mother and all, but you got another family out there, right?” You got up and joined the table to crush your cigarette into the ashtray, a vain attempt to prepare you for what you were about to announce. “Mr Johnson’s gone... I heard he died in his own bed.”

You threw him a glance, you wanted to know what he was thinking at this moment because his face was unreadable. Even though you knew him more than he knew himself, you grew apart from each other, and here was standing in front of you, a version of Michael you did not know.

He was blankly looking at the void in front of him, fisted clenched around the sheets.

You got closer to him, putting down the ashtray on the nightstand and sat down at his side again, but this time you slipped one of your hands into his as your other one, slowly turned his head towards you, so you could look at him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered as you were nearing your face to his.

It’s when you felt a little squeeze on your hand that you completely dared to give yourself to him, leaning a slow kiss over his lips.

You then pulled away, but before you could go anywhere, you felt his free hand at the back of your head, pulling you closer for another kiss, this one being feverish.

Of course, he was still loving you. It couldn’t be any different.

His hand shifted from your head to your cheek, his thumb rubbing it softly. His tender fondles contrasted perfectly with the roughness of his kisses. They became needier and needier, as if he waited to do this for a long time.

You both finally let go of the other’s lips when your lungs were screaming for air, your lids directly opening into the other’s eyes.

Here we go again, that twinkling light dancing at the back of his deep blue eyes.

“Something actually changed there,” You caressed his lips with your index, “I didn’t remember your lips tasting this way, neither you being that much of a good kisser.” Your suave voice murmured inches away from him.

You were so close you could feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin of your lips.

“Well, teach me.” His voice aroused something inside of you, and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together.

PEAKY BLINDERS TAG: @retromafia

(ask me if you want to get in one of the tag lists)

#Michael Gray x Reader #Michael Gray #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine

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