#fell to my knees on a beautiful day in a busy street… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katyswrites · 7 months

Text

don't call me 'baby'

PART 10 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, mentions of pregnancy/a pregnancy scare, mentions of food and alcohol, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, ddlg dynamics, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 10.4K

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 10 | meet me in the afterglow

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Your walk to work was chilly enough to warrant a coat. That was perhaps the thing you missed least about home in the U.S. - even though the winters certainly got cold here, it was nowhere near the sub-zero temperatures you had grown up with during the coldest time of year. Maybe the only thing you missed was snow - in all of your time living here, you had only gotten a brief dusting once, and it had melted by the following day.

Still, a week out from Christmas, you now needed to wrap something warm around yourself as you walked down the street, heading closer to the city center as your shift was due to start.

You were technically two minutes late to your shift, the coffee shop busy enough to have a line going out the door when you arrived. Yet, your manager Francesco said nothing - a small spark of joy in your day.

You didn’t necessarily need to go back to work - Steve’s money had yet to run out. But, you felt good about earning your own money - and, the less you had to draw on his remaining funds, the less you had to think about him.

You hadn’t seen or spoken to Steve since the night of your argument. Well, that was only partially true - you had received one piece of communication from him. It came a few days later - you had been moping in your apartment, having barely left your room for days, when an envelope arrived. It had his familiar writing and wax seal, with another wad of cash and a letter made out to you:

I promise this is the last you’ll hear from me. I am a man of my word, so I promise to help provide for you until you’re finished with school. I’ll be transferring enough money to your account to cover all of your expenses, so no need to worry about your rent, food, anything of the sort… I really do want you to be able to focus on school, okay? So, please don’t protest, or try to send the money back. Please feel free to use the credit card if you need to.

I’m sorry it ended this way. We both knew it was going to, but I apologize if I said anything out of line the other night. I truly do wish you the best.

Take care,

Steve

Reading it had been a punch to the gut. The formality of it, the finality of it… you would’ve rather that you never heard from him again. You had stashed the letter in a box under your bed, and not looked at it since.

A few weeks after that, you had pregnancy scare. It was silly, really - but, your period was late, and if was the first conclusion your mind had jumped to. You had called Robin in a panic, begging her to come home - she did, with four different brands of pregnancy tests. Those 15 minutes of waiting for results were the most agonizing of your life - then, upon seeing them all negative, you fell to your knees and burst into tears.

“It’s okay,” Robin had cooed, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re good it was a false alarm - you’re probably just late because of stress -”

“I know,” you sobbed. “I just -”

“What is it?”

You then had sat up, chest heaving as you sobbed.

“He’s really gone isn’t he?”

Robin held you in her arms that night as you cried yourself to sleep.

To your knowledge now, he had gone back to the U.S. - was he still in Chicago? Or, did he go back to New York? You realized it was better for you to not ask these questions, or to think of him at all. As the weeks had turned into months, you found yourself thinking of him a little less each day - but you still thought of him. You saw him in the passersby as you walked down the street, in every car window, in every businessman walking through the door to order a coffee. Sometimes, you’d hear a laugh, or get a brief whiff of cigarette smoke, and swear it was him. But it never was - it never would be again.

The days had dragged on, but luckily, you often found yourself too busy to dwell too much on thoughts of Steve. Between work and school, your plate was pretty full. With graduation in mere weeks, you had spent the entire term studying and working on your thesis. Steve’s remaining money, at least, allowed you to work far less hours than you had before - a small blessing, you supposed.

The day was moving pretty quickly, the morning rush busy enough that two hours flew by without much notice. It was only during the afternoon lull that you found yourself able to look up from the espresso machine - only to lock eyes with a familiar face through the window.

Eddie smiled back at you, waving. You couldn’t help but grin, and beckoned him to come inside. He bounded through the glass doors, bursting into the coffee shop with the infectious, chaotic energy he always carries with him.

“Bella, how are you?” he asked, leaning over the counter with a big grin.

“I’m okay,” you said, shrugging.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Just okay?”

“Oh well - you know, a bit stressed with the end of term and all. But, that’ll all be over soon.”

“I’m almost done, too - just finishing up my exams, all of that nonsense.”

“Do you have someone for your thesis?”

You nodded. “Professor Hopper - he’s always had a soft spot for me,” you said, smiling fondly, thinking of the seemingly-gruff.

“I have Clarke - I don’t actually know how much he knows about photography, he teaches chemistry for godsake, but apparently it’s a hobby or something, so he’ll sign off on whatever I do,” Eddie said, laughing.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you - I actually have my own studio space now.”

“What? Eddie, that’s amazing!”

He grinned. “Thanks - I mean, I’m still technically freelance, but I’m hoping once I’m fully graduated more work will start coming in. But for now, I don’t mind having some spare time to practice with the band.”

You did your best to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Right - don’t forget me when you make it as a big rockstar, Eddie.”

He let out a hearty laugh at that, the infectious kind that had you joining in - you hadn’t laughed like that in quite some time.

“You know, you should come by later to check it out,” Eddie said. “I mean, if you want -”

You thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Sure, why not - I get off in about a half hour -”

“Perfect,” he cried, clapping his hands together. “I’ll just wait around then - and, uh, can I get an espresso? Since I’m already here and all.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile.

“Yeah, sure thing Munson - I’ll take my sweet time with it, just for you.”

The end of your shift flew by, and soon enough you were pulling off your apron, linking your arm in Eddie’s as he led you out the door and through the city.

The studio, as it turned out, was only a few blocks away. The space was small, but nice - a big glass storefront allowed plenty of light in, even with the fading sun, indicative of the short days of winter. Some of Eddie’s work hung framed on the walls - city scenes, candids of people on the street, bands in action at his favorite club… and even a few of you, from the project you posed for a few years ago.

“Wow - this is amazing, Eddie!” you exclaimed, glancing around the studio with genuine pride for your friend. You knew this was always the goal for him, what he always wanted to do.

“Grazie mille,” he said, beaming.

“Do you have anything lined up?”

He nodded.

“Some - nothing too interesting. A few weddings, graduation photoshoots, things like that. Oh, do you want to see the photo lab?”

You let him lead the way into the back room, passing through a dimly-lit room with machines and equipment that you were sure you had no idea how to use. Newly developed photos were hanging around on clothespins, or spread across the table in the middle.

“Back there is the darkroom,” Eddie said, gesturing to a small door on the other side of the room. “But yeah, this is where the magic happens.”

“You develop all your pictures this way?” you asked, examining a few laid across the table.

He shook his head. “Not exactly - only the stuff I shoot on film. A lot of what I do is digital, and I edit that on my computer but… I really do love shooting film. I only really do that for specific things. Oh, which reminds me!”

He turned his back to you, rummaging through a filing cabinet until he produced a large manila envelope, extending it to you. You furrowed your brow, confused. You turned it to examine it properly - the only thing written on it was your name and a date, in Eddie’s telltale scrawl.

“What -”

“It’s those pictures I owe you, from your birthday party - sorry, it took me a while to get around to developing them.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you said quietly, gripping the envelope a bit tighter. “Uh, thanks - that was really nice of you, Eddie.”

You were still staring down at the parcel in your hands, your hands shaking a bit - you had completely forgotten that Eddie had been taking pictures all night. Most likely because you had been a bit distracted at the time. But now…

“I think they turned out pretty nice, if you ask me,” Eddie said. “But, you can be the judge of that yourself.”

You pressed your mouth into a tight line, nearly feigning a smile as you finally met his eyes again. He was looking back expectantly, and you realized he wanted you to look at them now.

“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled. “I guess I’ll just -”

You opened it up, sliding out the stack of photos - they were slightly bigger than the ones you had seen from a digital camera, on a beautiful matte paper that you knew must have not been cheap. This, you realized, was Eddie’s belated birthday gift to you.

You thumbed through the pictures - the first few were just candids of your friends on the dancefloor, or deep in conversation around the bar. There were a few of you and Robin, arms thrown around each other and smiling ear-to-ear.

There were quite a few solo shots of you, raising a glass to the camera, mid-laugh, or dancing - somehow, he had made it look like you truly were the center of attention, as if to tell people this is who we were there for!

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, laughing quietly at a few of the shots, including one of Robin flipping off the camera as she kisses Vickie. Then, your smile dropped, because there he was.

Steve, looking as handsome as you remembered, but somehow also a stranger, or like a figment of your imagination. Somehow, a small part of your subconscious had convinced you over the last few months that perhaps he wasn’t real, a true figment of your imagination that had been too good to be true. But there he was, large as life, his arm wrapped around you as you smiled into the camera. You were smiling in his arms, a girl completely unrecognizable in some ways. In another photo, he’s pressing a kiss to your cheek as you laugh - you remembered that one being taken, that’s for sure. You gently trailed your fingers across the picture, as if you were hoping to reach in and pull that happy girl out, just to shake a bit of sense into her. You didn’t even realize you were crying until a fat wet teardrop his the page, rolling down and off the edge.

“Whoa - are you alright?” Eddie asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You jumped, having nearly forgotten that he was there at all. How long had you been staring at the pictures of Steve? For a few minutes, or hours? There was no way to know.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said, the thickness in your voice betraying you. You pressed the heels of your hands under your eyes, willing the gentle tears to stop, sniffling.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked softly.

You laughed dryly, more hot tears welling up as you did.

“Nothing! I - they’re beautiful, Eddie. Really - thank you. You - you’ve really got a talent.”

Your voice wobbled a bit at the end, and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry, I - it’s nothing to do with you,” you assured him. “I just - I’ve been having a hard time lately.”

Eddie cocked his head, confused. Then, his eyes flitted down to the picture in your hands.

“Oh - I’m sorry, I - is this about him?” Eddie asked quietly, gesturing to the photos. You just nodded, avoiding his gaze again as you stuffed them back into the envelope.

“I didn’t know you two had broken up, I’m sorry -”

“We didn’t break up!” you snapped, harsher than intended. “Fuck, I - sorry, that came out wrong. We didn’t break up, because we were never exactly together. It’s just complicated.”

Eddie furrowed his brow. “Yeah, okay - well, I’m sorry to hear about your not-breakup. I guess I’m just a little surprised.”

“Why’s that?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I spent a long time looking at all of those when I was developing them - you know how they say pictures tell a thousand words?”

You nodded.

“Well - I take pictures of a lot of couples - weddings, engagement shoots, all of that… and I’ve never seen two people more in love than you two.”

You felt your chest tighten - maybe you were being a lovesick idiot at your party, but Steve?

You shook your head. “No - Eddie, it… it wasn’t like that. I can promise you that.”

Steve made that perfectly clear.

Eddie shrugged again. “I’m just telling you what I observed, that’s all.”

“Well maybe you should mind your business,” you grumbled.

Fuck. You shouldn’t have said that.

Eddie’s face fell a bit, and he slowly took a step back, hands shoved in his pockets.

“My apologies,” he whispered. He was hurt, that much was obvious. You mentally kicked yourself.

“No Eddie - I’m sorry, I didn’t -”

You sighed, frustrated.

“Things have been, like, really weird the last few months and… it doesn’t matter.”

“I could tell,” he said, voice quiet. “You’ve been.. Distant.”

You nodded, the awkwardness filling the space between you two. You had fucked this up too, somehow.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “Uh, it’s getting late, and dark… I probably should head home.”

“Yeah, okay - good idea, I have some stuff to work on anyway.”

You both nodded, avoiding eye contact as you both headed out back into the studio.

It wasn’t until you were at the door that you turned to face Eddie again.

“The place really is beautiful… I’m proud of you,” you said sincerely. He offered a small smile in return.

“Thanks.”

“I also - the pictures are beautiful. Thank you for these, I - they’re great.”

“I’m sorry if they -”

“Don’t apologize,” you said firmly. “They’re great - you’ve really got a gift, you know.”

You could tell Eddie was fighting a real smile, a small win in your book.

“C’mon, you know my ego’s just fine on its own.”

You laughed, and without thinking, pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry I lost it a little earlier,” you whispered.

“It’s alright,” he said, pulling away. “Heartbreak is funny like that.”

You decided not to bother protesting his assessment this time, too tired to start a fight again just to feel something.

“Right, okay.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take out the photos with… him?” Eddie asked, gesturing down to the envelope.

“No, that’s alright - I’m a big girl, I can go through them. I’m definitely going to hang a few of these up though, so thanks again.”

“Take good care of yourself darling, alright? And come by any time - for any reason.”

It was an olive branch, an assurance that things were okay. You forced a smile, nodding.

“Thanks, Eddie - you’re a great friend, you know.”

You bid your farewells, and left the studio with a strange feeling settling within you. You pulled your coat a little tighter around you, stuffing the envelope underneath as you charged through the chilly evening air to the nearest bus stop.

You didn’t get home until nearly 6pm, the winter sky fully dark by then. By the time you walked a few blocks and up the stairs to your apartment, your face was stinging from the cold, the wind picking up more since that afternoon.

Robin was on the couch, a rerun of Friends playing on the TV.

“Hey! You’re back kind of late,” she remarked.

“Yeah - I ran into Eddie, funnily enough,” you replied, hoping you sounded nonchalant.

“Oh really? How is he? I miss him - we should really make a plan to hang out with him soon -”

“Yeah, for sure,” you said, kicking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the rack. “He’s good - I saw his new studio, it’s nice.”

“Oh, no way! That’s great - I need to go sometime -”

“Yeah, totally,” you said, absentminded. “Uh, I’ve got some stuff to do, but I’ll be out here later -”

“Maybe we can get takeout or something -”

“Yeah, perfect -” you tittered, closing your bedroom door behind you, eyes on the envelope in your hands.

You bit your lip, debating what to do. Part of you considered finding all of the pictures of Steve, and burning them. But, that felt a bit dramatic. You pulled out the stack again, sifting through until you found the shots of him. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at how happy the girl in the photos was - if only she knew how quickly things would fall apart that night. The photo of Steve kissing you cheek was your favorite - it was just full of pure, unbridled joy. The one after that was the one you stared at for quite some time, though. You were looking into the camera, grinning widely. Steve, however, wasn’t - no, he was looking at you. You stared at him for quite some time - and remembered Eddie’s words.

I’ve never seen two people more in love than you two.

You had thought it was crazy - but, in the picture, Steve was looking at you like you’d hung the stars. Like, if he didn’t have you, he’d be lost. He was looking at you with eyes full of love - you just hadn’t been looking.

You gasped, realizing what Eddie had seen that you couldn’t - maybe everything had meant more to Steve than he had let on. No, that was crazy - wasn’t it?

What happened next didn’t have much explanation - it was probably crazy. You found yourself Googling Steve’s company headquarters in Chicago - it couldn’t be this easy, could it? But it was.

A quick call through the directory brought you to his secretary, a bubbly woman who was more than happy to help. You pretended to be the secretary of a business partner you had remembered Steve mentioning, saying how you wanted to send a thank-you gift - it had been too easy to get his home address, really. And, a confirmation that he was back in Chicago.

The next morning, you sent out an envelope, sticking on international postage. You debated not putting your name on the return address, but ultimately decided to include it - he’d recognize the address anyway. When you dropped it at the post office, you walked away feeling a sense of relief - and, perhaps, just a bit unhinged. TIme would tell if anything came of it. But, at the very least, it felt like finally closing the chapter of your life that had been defined by Steve Harrington. And, that was a good thing… right?

********

The day before Christmas Eve, you received great news: confirmation that you had passed all of your exams, your thesis receiving glowing feedback from the professors in your department. Your degree, which studied Art History and Travel and Tourism Management, meant that you would actually be able to stay here - you hoped to work in tourism in some way right here in Rome, or perhaps work in one of the city’s many museums - being bilingual would help, and more importantly, it meant you never had to set foot back in the United States again, if you didn’t want.

Christmas brought its usual cheer and celebration, complete with mulled wine and a potluck dinner you and Robin held for some of the other foreign students you were friendly with, knowing they didn’t have families to go to for the holidays. Your graduation only brought extra festivities, including a speech prepared by Robin given as a toast at dinner, saying how proud she was of you (and, how jealous she was that you didn’t have to worry about schoolwork anymore). It was silly yet sincere enough to make you tear up and pull her into a big hug. Eddie and Jonathan even swung by for a bit, joining in on the celebration until the wee hours of the morning. Robin and Vickie were all over each otherYou ate and drank to your heart’s content before stumbling to bed, leaving cleanup in the kitchen for the morning.

The morning of Boxing Day, it turned out, was actually the afternoon, with you and Robin oversleeping. You, to your own relief, felt tired, but not too hungover - the same couldn’t be said for Robin and Vickie, who stumbled into the kitchen with grimaces on their faces and grumbles as a greeting.

You spent most of the day cleaning up from the last two days’ festivities, washing dishes and clearing away wrapping paper, wiping countertops and vacuuming just enough until your home felt semi-in order.

You were still in your pajamas as it was getting dark again in the evening, a rarity these days. When Robin said she was heading out to dinner with Vickie and likely would be staying at her place that night, you bid her farewell, looking forward to some time alone to fully relax and unwind.

It was several hours later, after scrounging together a dinner of Christmas leftovers and half-dozing on the couch while a movie played, that your doorbell rang. You sat up with a start, your heart jumping at the unexpected intrusion. You stumbled to the door, grumbling about who could possibly be here at this hour - maybe Robin decided to come back after all, and got locked out again? You were ready to playfully ridicule her when you opened the door. But when you saw who was standing on the other side, you froze.

Steve Harrington was there on your doorstep, barely illuminated in the dim light. His chest was heaving, his hair just a bit disheveled. His eyes widened when he saw you, and you imagined you did the same. Your heart plummeted to your stomach at the sight of him, so real and alive in front of you. Were you dreaming? Was this some sick prank?

Neither of you said anything for a moment, two mouths hanging open, searching for the words.

“It’s Christmas,” you blurted out, the first words you’ve said to him in over four months.

“It’s December 26th,” he replied, simply and casually.

“I - well, it’s still a holiday, kind of.”

“Yeah, I know - do you know how hard it is to catch a last-minute flight on Christmas?”

You just stood there in the doorway, unable to think of anything else to say - what the fuck?

“What are you doing here?” you asked, words biting. You were lashing out a bit, but you didn’t care - this moment right now reminded you of a similar one over the summer, when he came to your doorstep to explain how he wasn’t engaged. What was his excuse now?

“Why did you send me this?” he asked, holding up a familiar envelope - the photo.

Why did you? You weren’t certain of that answer yourself. So, you went with the first explanation that came to your head.

“It’s a good picture of you,” you said quietly.

He rolled his eyes.

“Do not - I don’t hear from you for months, then I get this in the mail - on Christmas Eve, mind you -”

“I’m sorry, were you supposed to hear from me?”

“I don’t know!” he cried. “Maybe?”

You scoffed. “You can’t be serious - you made it very clear that you never wanted to see me again.”

“I - what?”

“I wish you well? Take care? We ended things, Steve - what else was I meant to think?”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging.

“I don’t know. I guess part of me - it doesn’t matter. But, what am I supposed to make of this?” he asks, waving the envelope.

“I - Eddie gave me a bunch of pictures he took at my birthday party… I thought maybe you’d want that one.”

He took a tentative step closer towards you, gauging your reaction. You held your ground, not breaking eye contact.

“Is that the only reason?” he asked, voice low.

You felt your heartbeat quicken, your palms clammy - he really was just so handsome. Still, there was something so boyish about him, something that reminded you of why you fell for him in the first place. He had cut his hair a bit, his summer tan faded - and he looked tired. Then again, you probably did too - you suddenly became conscious of the fact that you were in your pajamas, still looking like you had just woken up - you wished you could disappear, never to be perceived again.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “The only reason.”

He was close enough now that you could see his Adam’s Apple bob as he gulped, his eyes glancing up and down your form as he took a deep breath.

“Tell me that, when you sent this, there wasn’t at least a small part of you that hoped I’d respond - that, when you sent this, you hoped I’d call, or show up here. If there wasn’t, I’ll walk away right now, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

There it was - everything laid out on the table. So much was still unsaid - but, it was obvious that he also had been hurting the last few months, that he didn’t want this to end, maybe even nearly as much as you did.

“You really flew all the way here because I sent you a photo?” you whispered.

He nodded. “Of course I did.”

“You realize how crazy that is, right?”

He chuckled dryly.

“Well, they do say it makes you do crazy things.”

“...it?” you asked, voice wavering.

He nodded.

Oh.

“Come inside,” you murmured. “It’s pretty cold out there.”

As soon as the door was shut behind him, he began spiraling into a new explanation.

“I hope you know that I didn’t come here just to - you’re right, it is kind of crazy, but I didn’t know what else to do, after everything that happened -”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to talk at all.”

You both stood there for a moment, eyes locked on eachother. Then, as if reading each other’s minds, you both moved at once - you crashed your lips into his, fast and desperate. He sighed against your lips, pulling you close as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

You felt like crying - you had missed him so much, more than you had realized - his voice, his warmth, his scent - it brought everything flooding back, the feelings you had buried in an attempt at self-preservation. But now, as you kissed him, you felt the tears well up, stinging your eyes as they rolled down your face, hot and fast.

“Whoa - baby, it’s okay - what’s wrong -”

Baby.

“Nothing,” you cried, wiping the tears away. “I just - I really fucking missed you.”

You felt stupid to admit it, but then again, didn’t he come close to confessing that himself just a few moments ago?

“I know, I know, baby - you have no fuckin’ idea -”

Another kiss, passionate and apologetic.

“I didn’t mean any of what I said that night,” you gasped, pulling him closer. “I was just so scared -”

“I know, me too, baby - m’sorry -”

Baby. Babybabybaby.

He was holding your face between his hands now, backing you up until you were pressed against the wall, his lips finding yours again. He titled his head down to nuzzle at your throat, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin there. You tipped your head back, giving him full access to do as he pleased. He kissed and nipped at your neck, until you were moaning and crying out his name, pulling at his coat until it fell off of his shoulders. You twisted your hands in his button-down, his hands squeezing tighter on your waist in response.

“Fuck, Steve,” you breathed. “I’m sorry -”

“Stop with that,” he said, firmly taking your face in his hands again, catching your lips in another gentle kiss. “You’re right, I just realy don’t want to talk anymore -”

Then he was kissing you again, swallowing your noises as you whined his name, fingers gripping his hair.

“Bedroom, now,” you told him. “Please -”

“Yeah, okay.”

He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, both of you stumbling down the small hallway and into your bedroom, Steve slamming the door closed behind him with his foot.

“No Robin?” he asked, lips finding your neck again.

“No - ah! She’s at Vickie’s tonight -”

“Thank Christ,” he growled. “I don’t know how quiet I’m capable of being right now.”

He was apparently as desperate as you were, lips finding yours hungrily as he pulled your oversized t-shirt over your head, eyes practically rolling to the back of his head when he saw your breasts.

“No bra?” he asked.

“I was lounging around, until you showed up -”

“Thank god,” he practically snarled, his hands finding the small of your back to pull you close.

You reached between yourselves, unbuttoning his shirt, fingers slipping as they shook with anticipation. He reached down to help you, until he eventually shrugged the shirt off. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your bare chest to his, nearly crying again from the contact.

“I really missed you,” he whispered, a man ruined. “I never thought I’d be able to have you like this again -”

“None of that,” you murmured, pressing a finger to his lips. “It’s alright.”

You just stared at him, running your hands down his chest as you took a deep breath.

“I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he asked, face flickering with concern. “Oh god, are - are you seeing someone else? I didn’t even ask -”

“No! No, nothing like that,” you assured, biting your lip. “I just - do you remember the night of my birthday on our trip, on the rooftop?”

He nodded. “That was a really nice night.”

“I haven’t been totally honest with you,” you admitted, heart racing as you were ready to lay out the thing you had been terrified to admit aloud.

“About what?” he asked softly, cupping your cheek gently with his palm.

“Remember when I said something in Italian, and you asked what it meant? And I just said it meant I loved the gift, the star thing?”

He nodded. You took a deep, shuddering breath.

“That wasn’t exactly true. I - I said that I was in love with you,” you managed, voice quivering at the end. “That’s why I was so scared - I didn’t realize until I said it… I had broken our rule, our number one rule -”

“Hey, hey -” he cooed, shaking his head. “Did you mean it?”

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah - I still do.”

The few seconds that passed after that had your stomach doing somersaults - what if he still didn’t feel that way, and everything he had said in the doorway was bullshit? You thought you were going to be sick -

But his face softened, his eyes glistening - was he going to cry?

“Fuck the rules. I stopped following those a long time ago,” he said.

Your heart fluttered, your face heating.

“Are you saying -”

“How did you say it in Italian again?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I’ve been slacking on my lessons without you around.”

You laughed. “Oh, um, it’s sono innamorato di te. It translates directly as I’m in love with you, or I’m falling for you.”

He nodded. “Well then - sono innamorato di te.”

You felt like your chest was about to explode, and before you knew it, you were crying again. He was too, you realized, his cheeks glistening with tears as he choked a sob with laughter.

“We could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we both just said that in the first place,” he said, reaching to wipe away some of your tears.

“How long?” you asked.

“Since the night of the gala I brought you to. So… longer. I guess I win.”

You sobbed again, Steve swallowing the sound with another kiss. It’s wet and salty with tears, a mess of apologies and confessions.

“Steve - I -”

“I know, baby,” he whispered, kissing your salty cheeks. “It’s alright - I’m here now -”

The conversation truly stopped after that - you couldn’t keep your hands off of one another, shedding clothes until you were nude and devouring each other with desperation unlike anything you had ever felt before.

Steve was pressing his lips between your breasts when you asked, voice breathy and filled with need.

“Steve - I need you, please -”

“Mm - yeah, okay -”

Before he could move, you were reaching down to grasp his cock in your hand. He gasped, pupils blown as his head thumped back against the wall. The noise that came out of him was unholy, wrecked and ruined as you brushed your thumb along his leaking tip.

“Christ, baby -”

“Can I suck you off, please?” you asked, desperate to make him come undone.

“Honey - you can’t - I just, I wanna fuck you so bad… I won’t last if I let you get your mouth on me, baby.”

You pouted, even as your heart raced with the thrill of knowing you’d have him inside you again.

“Next time,” he said, “I swear.”

A promise of a next time, of a thousand more times - you started kissing him again, lips bruising his - losing yourself in any drink or drug would never compared to losing yourself in Steve Harrington, you decided.

“Get on the bed,” he muttered, gently pushing you back. You did as he asked, falling back onto the mattress gently as he joined you, face hovering inches from yours.

His hair was a mess, pupils blown and lips glossy. He just shook his head, as if in disbelief.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he breathed.

You felt your face heat, and you buried your face in your hands.

“Shut up.”

“About you? Not likely.”

Before you could come up with a clever remark, he was kissing your neck again, his lips traveling down slowly between the valley of your breasts, taking his time - he was going to leave bruises, you already knew.

But he didn’t stop, traveling down, down, down -

“What are you -”

“I never said I didn’t want to taste you first,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I miss having my mouth on you so fuckin’ much -”

“Fuck,” you gasped. “You’re unreal -”

“Says you,” he retorted. Whatever you planned to say next died on your lips, anything resembling a coherent thought dissolving as his lips found your cunt.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, back arching as his tongue swirled around your clit.

“Just as fuckin’ sweet as I remembered,” he whispered, his breath against your pussy making your chest heave.

He licked a stripe along your slit, making your back arch off the bed, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Be loud for me, baby,” he murmured, lips finding your clit again. You did as he asked, moaning and crying out his name as he devoured your pussy, eliciting desperate sounds from you as your fingers wound themselves in his hair. He groaned as you pulled on his locks, encouraging you to continue doing so as he opted to slide a finger inside you.

“Fuck - Steve! Ohmygod, fuck -”

You felt him smile as he lapped and licked at your folds, adding a second finger and beginning to pump them in earnest, finding that spot inside of you too easily.

You were crying out, bucking your hips against Steve’s lips, like putty in his hands. For about ten minutes you were completely his, mind numb with pleasure as he took you apart with his mouth. You let him, feeling the blunt fingernails of his free hand digging into your thigh, pulling you as close as possible.

“Steve - I’m gonna - I’m so close, y’feel too good -”

Encouraged, he picked up the pace a bit, sending you completely over the edge. When you came, you saw stars, grinding down on Steve’s mouth and fingers. You were screaming, and he helped you through it, nuzzling against your core as you pulsed around his fingers. Your hand left his hair and found his temple, gently coaxing him closer as you rode out your orgasm.

You were still breathing heavily as he kissed his way slowly back up your body, worshiping every inch of skin he could find. YOu didn’t let your eyes open again until he was face-to-face with you, chin glistening with your release as he wore a smug grin.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmured. “Tasted so good… you came so hard for me -”

“Mm -” you hummed, pulling him down for a kiss. You tasted yourself on him, the sensation completely euphoric.

“Do you need some time?” he asked gently.

You ran a finger over your clit, still sensitive and puffy, and shook your head.

“No, I’m okay - I actually really need you to fuck me.”

“Thank god,” he said, exasperated. “I don’t think I can go another second without fucking you -”

“I know -”

“I would dream about you, you know - all the time. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with a hard-on, of a mess in my boxers like a fuckin’ teenager -”

“I know what you mean,” you admitted, recalling a few times you had thought of him as you touched yourself since he’d left.

“Please tell me you’re still on the fuckin’ pill -”

“Yeah, I am - God, Steve -”

“I know, I know - ready baby?”

You nodded, locking your eyes with his as he positioned himself above you, pushing inside of you ever so slowly. You could tell he was holding back, doing everything he could to not enter you in one rough movement. You winced at the stretch, nearly forgetting just how big he was. He kissed apologies across your face, gasping as he felt your warm walls envelope him.

“Fuck -” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “I can’t believe I went so long without this - you feel so fuckin’ perfect, baby - such a tight, perfect pussy -”

“You feel so good,” you breathed, digging your fingernails into his shoulderblades. “Steve - I’m so full, please fuck me -”

He did as you asked, rolling his hips against yours, eliciting a groan from both of you. He was still holding back you could tell - but you didn’t have time for that, not after months of missing him, of missing this -

“Let go, baby,” you whispered. “Please -”

“What did you just call me?” he asked.

“I - baby,” you repeated. You realized you never had before - was that wrong?

“Say it again,” he breathed.

“Baby,” you breathed, gasping as he thrust into you a little harder.

“Baby, please - fuck me, let go,” you cried.

It became fast and hard quickly, the desperation you shared impossible to mask. The slapping of his hips against yours was positively dirty, Steve’s arms caging you underneath him as he pounded into you. Your hand snaked down between you, your own finger finding your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, continuing his relentless pace. “Touch yourself for me, just like that - M’not gonan last long, I’m sorry, you just feel too good -”

“It’s okay,” you assured, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I want you to lose it.”

He groaned, the room filling with the sound of slapping skin and moans, your names on each other’s lips.

Nothing else mattered, not when Steve was making you feel like this, not when he had flown across an ocean on a whim, a desperate hope to just see you again, even if only for a moment. You suddenly became so overwhelmed with love for this man, this person who had turned your world upside down - it was indescribable, impossible to even express. So you just held him tight, burying your face into his shoulder.

“M’close - I need you to come with me, baby - can you do that? I know you can, you’re always so good for me -”

You nodded, unable to formulate words anymore.

“I fuckin’ love you,” he cried, hips stuttering, his thrusts growing sloppier. “So much, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you - I love you, baby -”

His words sent you over the edge, white-hot pleasure surging through your body as you screamed his name. The feeling of you clamping around him sending him into his own orgasm. He spilled inside of you, your name on his lips like a prayer. He practically collapsed on top of you, the feeling of his heartbeat against yours feeling like home, like it was always meant to be this way.

Your breaths were labored, sweet kisses peppered across skin. Neither of you spoke for quite some time. After he rolled off of you, he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as physically possible.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, slow and gentle. It was only when you pulled back, brushing some of his sweaty hair away from his face, that you broke the silence.

“I love you, too,” you murmured. You brushed your fingers along his face, and he caught your wrist, pressing kisses to your palm and knuckles, as if determined to worship you every chance he got.

“I want more than an arrangement,” he whispered. “I don’t want rules, or a deal, or -”

“Yeah, that was obvious,” you replied, chuckling. “And, me too.”

“And, you were right - you have school, and I never wanted you to think I just wanted you like a trophy or something - you have your own life, aspirations, and i know that - I just like spoiling you, but I never wanted you to give up who you are,” he said, face soft. “I need you to know that.”

“I do,” you murmured.

You really did.

“Besides, I graduated.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What? When?”

“Officially? A few days ago.”

He smiled, soft and sincere - part of you was worried he might cry again.

“Congratulations - I’ll have to take you out to celebrate.”

“Mm - sounds good to me. How long - when are you here until?”

There was still life to reckon with, after all - living on two different continents, jobs, obligations - the kind of thing that could ruin this. But, he just shook his head.

“I bought an open-ended ticket. So, until whenever you want.”

“I - what? What about work?”

He shrugged. “Turns out, when you run the place, you can get away with that stuff.”

Your jaw dropped.

“What? Are you serious?”

He nodded. “Brenner’s out. I’m in - youngest CEO in the company’s history.”

You laughed, pressing your palm to your forehead as you stared at the ceiling in disbelief.

“Steve - that’s amazing. But how -”

“Shhh - we’ll figure everything out later. But, let’s at least ring in the new year together, yeah?”

You nodded cautiously - he really was here, now, and wanted to make it work.

“Okay,” you said. “Sounds good.”

“Hey - you know what’s really pissing me off, though?”

“What?” you asked, wary as a pit of dread formed in your gut.

“I have to thank Eddie fucking Munson for fixing this.”

You laughed, a real, hearty laugh, and in that moment, you realized things were going to be okay.

******

That night, you slept better than you had in months, safe and warm in Steve’s arms. That was, until you woke to Robin’s scream the next morning, both of you shooting up in bed with a start.

“WHAT IS HE DOING IN YOUR BED?” she cried, shielding her eyes. “God - I wish I could bleach my eyes - motherfucker -”

Then, the door was slamming shut, Robin bemoaning her luck as she bolted down the hall to her own room.

You felt your face heat with embarrassment, sinking under the covers.

“Well - I guess I owe her an explanation -”

“Later,” Steve saidly, shaking his head incredulously. “For Christmas, I’m getting you a fucking industrial lock for that door!”

Then you were laughing, blissful and unable to control yourself, Steve joining you. He kissed the giggles away, pulling your body to his, and not much talking happened after that.

It didn’t matter what real life held after this - because Steve was here, and he was yours. Wherever you ended up, you realized, if you were with Steve, you would be home.

He was here to stay.

author's note: Hi y'all - thanks for your patience! This story isn't quite done - there will be an epilogue posted tomorrow. But, that's essentially the conclusion of don't call me 'baby' - I told you it would be a happy ending! Shoutout to @is-writing for some help with this. And of course as always, Em, without whom this fic wouldn't have happened. Comments, reblogs, and messages are always welcome - keep an eye out for the epilogue!

#steve harrington #steve harrington/reader smut #steve harrington/you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington/reader angst #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #dcmb fic

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loviatarsluv · 2 months

Text

Would That I (2)

“True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me

That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree

Must be felled for to fight the cold”

(all credits to the op of this gorgeous pic of my wizard <3)

pairing: Gale x f!tav (my own oc, Elara)

(takes place in an AU where the absolute and the cult basically don't exist so this is non-canon compliant, I guess)

rating: sfw, this one is pretty much purely fluff and angst

CW: yearning and pining, gale being very sweet and the gentleman he is, nasty drunk man saying nasty things, slight s*xual harassment, hurt/comfort, gale being protective, tara being tara

in summary: Elara and Gale plan to go to the market and spend the day together, which is cut short unexpectedly. nothing is ever easy for the two of them, it seems.

a/n: I’m torturing myself with this tbh I love a slow burn but GOD I just wanna write sweet romantic smut about the wizard already!!!

word count: 7.8k

Springtime in Waterdeep had to be one of the most breathtaking things she’d ever seen.

The way the dogwood trees bloomed and blossomed in gorgeous shades of pink and pastel hues, the way the flowers that had been dormant during the colder months were now full of life and bursting with color, the way the sun shone so much brighter and the breeze felt like a warm but gentle embrace.

Everything seemed to come alive with a brand new vigor— the streets were full again, the sounds of children running and playing as well as the Waterdhavian locals just existing and enjoying the sunshine for the first time in months echoed off the sides of the stone buildings that lined the streets. The faint melodic strumming of a lyre could be heard not too far from the Dekarios residence, as a bard occupied a spot just outside one of the nearby taverns and busked for coins throughout the day.

She caught the end of a familiar tune as she approached the large window in her bedroom— a song that she remembered her mother singing to her before bed. One of the last vivid memories she had left of her.

Elara hoped maybe they would pass the bard on their way to the market so she could toss them a few gold pieces.

She gazed out over the expanse of the ocean and hummed along to the song until its eventual end, smiling somberly to herself and adjusting her dress to ensure it was perfect, before pulling on her boots and grabbing the basket she uses to gather fruits and vegetables at the market.

It had been quite a while since she’d been able to wear her favorite dress, and today was the perfect weather, the perfect day, for her to finally bring it out again. She paces past the full length mirror in the corner of the room, stopping briefly and double checking her reflection. Her hair was mostly loose, half of her dark waves flowing along her shoulders and back and half of it tied back with a silver pin that adorned the shape of a mermaid, to keep it out of her eyes. Her dress fell right around her knees, the light blue fabric having small golden flecks throughout it as if stars were scattered across it. The neckline was low but not incredibly revealing, and it fit her waist and shoulders perfectly. She always felt so beautiful in this dress. It was her mother’s before she passed. One of her only other memories of her mother was seeing her twirling in the mirror as she tried the dress on for the first time.

She always hoped that she could be as beautiful as her mother was when she got older. She wished that she could’ve been around to see her in it as she wore it now, but somehow whenever she put it on, she could feel her presence in the room. She could almost still smell the roses and sandalwood that used to linger on the collar of the dress.

Gale waited patiently for her downstairs as she got ready for their outing, busying himself by sitting at the table and reading the local news. He had to admit that he was quite elated to be accompanying her to the market today— feeling a sense of relief when she said yes when he asked her the day prior after her previous denial of his last invitation for an outing. He hoped she wasn’t doing it out of pity, but figured if she truly didn’t want to go that she would’ve just said so or made another excuse.

He essentially jumps at the sound of her footsteps bounding down the stairs, standing quickly and straightening his clothes before she appears from the staircase, adjusting himself and ensuring nothing was askew or out of place. He smooths his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear and adjusts his sleeves just before she emerges from the staircase.

He had to remind himself many times that this excursion was nothing more than a quick trip to the market— but it did little to quell the sweat beads rising in his palm and the buzzing in his stomach. He hadn’t spent a lot of time with her that felt like they were both choosing to. It almost always felt like they just happened to end up in the same room as each other by chance, rather than choosing to be in whatever room the other occupied just to be near them. If it were up to him, he would remain at her side every moment that her eyes were open and even while they were closed. But it wasn’t up to him. Not entirely, at least.

He was only waiting for the right moment, or any sort of notion that she was even slightly interested— then, he would— well, do something. He hadn’t really thought that far yet.

Now may be an apt time to start, though.

“Sorry I took so long, I had to make sure I had everything so we can stock up and last us a little longer.” She says, gesturing to the two wicker baskets draped over her arms.

So this is what bards sing about so wistfully. This is what the love-stricken authors had in mind whilst they wrote hundreds of pages of longing and languishing— the beautiful girl that could make an entire room full of people’s heads turn in her direction just upon her entry, with long silken hair and stars in her eyes and on her dress.

He’s rendered completely speechless, which was not a common occurrence for Gale. His heart flutters and pounds as she smiles at him expectantly, awaiting him to let her know that he was ready to leave as well.

She notices him staring and glances down at herself, frowning. “Is it too much? It’s just so nice out, I thought, what better day for my favorite dress?”

He’s completely transfixed by her, he almost doesn’t catch her words before he finally returns to reality after soaring through the clouds. He shakes his head almost in disbelief.

“Not at all. You look… radiant, Elara.” He says, his voice low and reverent, as if he were admiring a painting hung in a gallery.

A blush rises to her cheeks as she tries to fight off the widest smile she’d probably ever smiled. “Thank you. You look… handsome.” She replies, mimicking his phrasing and making him chuckle quietly.

“Why, thank you, my lady,” he says with a bow, then holds his hand out as an invitation for hers. She timidly places her hand in his, and he presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Shall we?”

She’s taken aback by the gesture, her already intense blush only becoming ever more prominent and persistent, the heat in her cheeks beginning to feel as though she may burn up before they even make it outside.

She nods slowly, then follows his lead out the door, her hand lingering in his until they reach the front door steps. She takes a few steps ahead of him and tries to steady her breathing, as he quickly casts Arcane Lock on the door before rejoining her.

They walk side by side in silence for a little while, both of them happily drinking in the sights surrounding them. Elara is still buzzing from Gale’s earlier comment and the sensation of his lips against her skin lingered on the back of her hand— they were so soft. Like rose petals. She could hardly focus on anything but their softness, even while the scratch of his beard tickled her skin.

Radiant. He’d never complimented her like that before. In fact, she wasn’t sure anybody ever had. Not anyone that ever mattered enough to remember at least.

But Gale— gods, she’d write it in the stars if she could. She would paint the night sky with each syllable in only the most dazzling of stars, the brightest she could find— so that every night she could remember the way it sounded dripping from his tongue like honey.

A single word had never filled her entire body with a warmth that the sun could never provide. She felt as though she could fly if she really wanted to.

Radiant.

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever asked you, but how have you enjoyed Waterdeep?” He asks, slowing his pace slightly to accommodate her, her legs being shorter than his so her shorter strides made her fall behind.

He had asked, a few times. But that was months ago when it was all still new. Plus— her answer had changed considerably since the last time he asked.

“I love it. It is so beautiful here. I certainly don’t miss Rivington.” She jokes, a soft melodic giggle following. Gale’s heart flutters.

“There’s nothing quite like witnessing the changing of the seasons in Waterdeep. I’m happy to provide that experience for you, even under somewhat strange circumstances.” He replies, gesturing to the air around them.

She smiles sheepishly and averts her gaze to the cobblestone beneath her feet as they continue to walk. “Thank you, for that, by the way. For… letting me stay with you. I know it’s not ideal, to have essentially a stranger in your home, and I don’t know if I’ve ever properly thanked you for it before, so,” she rambles, trying with everything in her not to look at his face out of fear of what she might see.

He places a soothing hand on her arm, his fingertips featherlight against her flesh as she slowly runs them along the length of her bicep before returning to his side.

“No need to thank me. Your presence has been a delightful change around here, one that was unexpected, but welcome nonetheless.”

When she finally breaks and looks up at him, the warm and mirthful smile on his face nearly turns her legs to jelly, but she would happily melt under the sunshine that was his gaze.

Before she can attempt to craft a response to him, a commotion is heard ahead, and both of their attention snaps to it. A crowd has begun to form near the front of the nearby tavern, and not a single intelligible word could be made out of the raucous whooping within the crowd of presumably day drunk patrons and bystanders craning their necks to watch whatever was taking place in the center of it. She furrows her brows, suddenly remembering the bard she heard that morning, and hoping they’d been able to avoid the commotion. She watches closely for a moment before she feels Gale’s guiding hand on her back, urging her to go in a different direction, any other direction.

“Come, let’s push on. Tara will be waiting for us, and trust me when I say she is not the most pleasant when she’s been kept waiting,” he says, his voice low next to her ear. It was a throwaway excuse to pull her away from the ruckus and to safety to avoid potentially getting swept into a hysteria she needn’t get swept into.

If her mind hadn’t been so preoccupied by whatever was happening in front of them, she’d have been blushing furiously at the position of his hand, just above the small of her back. Something to try not to think too much about later.

Her eyes flick to him for an instant before she hears what sounded like a lyre being smashed against the side of the bricked building. Her head snaps in that direction, and the crowd parts in just the right way for her to see a young tiefling crumpled to the ground with his face in his hands, and an older human man above mocking him, gripping part of the smashed instrument in one of his fists.

Her face twists to a deep grimace, and before she can stop herself her feet are carrying her forward, her pace quickening. Gale calls to her from behind, his voice distant and nearly inaudible over the loud pounding and drumming of her heart in her ears. The crowd has begun to disperse only slightly, but a handful of people still linger and are either cheering on the older man or encouraging the tiefling to stand and fight. The tiefling’s shoulders shake and tremble as he cowers away from the inebriated brute towering over him, bellowing nonsense.

The man stands above what she can now see is merely a child, no older than thirteen, shouting taunts of profanity and cruelty that she tries her damnedest to disregard so as to not use her very limited knowledge of magic to send him onto his ass as she approaches the child, kneeling before him.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft so as to not startle him. She places a gentle hand on his arm, coaxing him into looking up at her. “Are you okay?”

Before he can respond, the booming of the perpetrator’s slurred mockery echoing throughout the small alleyway interrupts them both.

“Oi, missy! Careful, the little foulblood’ll snatch yer coin purse when ye ain’t lookin’!”

He looks at her with desperate eyes, his yellow tinted irises beginning to gloss over again as new sobs begin to wrack through his fragile looking body. “I didn’t— I swear, I didn’t do a-anything.”

She searches his face for any sign of deceit, noticing the faint scar that ran along his cheek from his eye to the corner of his lip that looked like it had only healed somewhat recently. His body language resembles that of a frightened pup in a cage and his tears seem genuine, so she offers him a reassuring smile. “I believe you.”

“‘M talkin’ ta ye, missy! Ye got shit for manners too?” The man yells again, the sound of the broken instrument clattering to the ground following it.

She continues to ignore him, her stubborn nature refusing to let this drunkard intimidate her as she assumes that’s exactly what he wants, he wants to feel bigger than himself, and thus why he was picking on a child and a woman— easy targets for his drunken tirade.

Her ignorance sets the man off into a blind rage, and she barely has a second to comprehend the situation before she hears a grunt of fury and large hands crash into the side of her body, surely bruising her ribs with the force it took to shove her to the ground, nearly knocking the breath from her lungs. She yelps as stone scrapes across her bare arm and the side of her head collides with the ground. The tiefling jumps backward and out of the line of fire of the older man’s warpath, eyes wide and boring into hers in terror.

“Elara!” Gale calls out, pushing through the now dense crowd frantically.

He finally makes it through, and the very second his eyes lock on her as she attempts to sit up, blood running down the side of her forearm and one hand clutching her ribs as the other presses over the tender spot where her skull met stone, fire burns through his veins. He’s at her side in an instant, gathering her up into his arms and holding on to her tightly.

“Are you alright?” He asks her, his voice cracking with concern.

She nods, then glances between him and the child backed against the wall, her main focus still on ensuring his safety. She motions to the child for him to stand with her, and Gale steps in front of them both protectively as he turns to face the drunkard.

“‘S that yer boyfriend, eh, girly? Wanna know how it feels t’ be with a real man?” The man cackles, stumbling forward as he belly laughs at his own vile taunts.

Gale’s composure is slipping and he feels heat in the center of his palm as it begins to emit a faint and crackling orange glow. His fingers twitch against the effort it takes not to hurl a fire bolt right at the bastard’s cocky face, but it seemed he wouldn’t have to as the man notices the faint glow of fire in Gale’s palm and begins to back away, fear etching into his weathered and sunburnt features.

He raises his hands in surrender, then quickly rounds the corner and dashes down the alley without another word, and the wizard relaxes his hand, dispelling the cantrip from his palm.

The air is still crackling with tension as the three of them try to steady their breathing, Gale in particular finding it difficult as the sight of her on the ground and her sweet face that, prior to this entire encounter, had been adorned with a smile that could stop a charging Minotaur in its tracks, twisted in pain and a gash on her arm. Not to mention the disgusting comment that foul—

Deep breaths.

The crowd slowly begins to disperse, some eyeing Gale wearily as they begin to back away, some pointing at him and whispering to their counterparts, no doubt recognizing him as the great Gale of Waterdeep. Eventually they, too, depart, leaving only two of them and the tiefling who was still cowering behind Elara, gripping the back of her dress as if he would fall through a crack in the ground without her anchoring him.

Gale spins around and cups Elara’s face gently, his umber eyes teeming with distress and a bit of anger as they scan her face for any further signs of injury or harm. Her icy blue eyes were glossy but he could see the restraint as she held back any tears from actually spilling.

Gods, she has the most beautiful eyes.

“Are you well? Did he hurt you? Is your head okay?” He asks frantically, the words tumbling from his lips in rapid succession as he gently turns her head to check each side of her face.

She swallows hard and tries not to get lost in the way his strong but elegant hands feel on her skin as he fusses over her, and places her hand over one of his in an attempt at calming his distraught babbling.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she shushes him, placing her other hand on his arm. “Everything is fine.”

Gale frowns. “It is most certainly not fine, you hit your head and you’re bleeding. We should head back and clean that up, I’ll just run to the market tomorrow—”

“Gale.” She coos, cutting his rambling short.

He stops, his entire body stilling and a heat creeping to his cheeks. Reality washes over him again as he blinks out of his worrisome daze, and realizes his hands still on her cheeks, and her hand over his— oh, hells, her hands are so soft, so warm— and slowly begins to pull away. She nods her head in the direction of the child attached to her hip, reminding him that they had company still. He takes a deep breath and glances around, likely looking to see if he catches a glimpse of that bastard and hoping that he was still within range for him to send a witch bolt his way. He’s unable to hide his disappointment when his search is fruitless.

The child’s eyes widen when Gale turns once again to face them and sighs deeply, his shoulders sinking low when all of the air exits his lungs, his body seeming to shrink with his posture. He slams his eyes shut tight, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking slow and steady breaths to calm himself.

“Mystra, give me strength.” He murmurs under his breath.

Elara ignores the disgruntled wizard at her side, leaning down slightly to be closer to the smaller tiefling’s height.

Elara smiles reassuringly and places her hands on his shoulders. “I’m so sorry about that. Are you okay?”

The child stares up at her, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the man brooding behind her.

“He’s with me, it’s alright.” She says, making her best attempt at a soothing and calm tone despite her voice wavering.

The tiefling’s eyes dart to the wreckage that is left of what was once his instrument, and his frown deepens. “My lyre…”

She follows his gaze, wincing when she sees the extensive damage. She could tell instantly upon inspection even from a distance that there was no repairing it, and it would simply need to be replaced. She offers him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder. What was once what appeared to be a beautiful instrument, was now shattered into several jagged pieces, sprawling across the ground around them. She frowns, feeling regretful for its owner but also for herself— an echo of a memory from this morning when she heard her favorite song being strummed by it reverberating in her mind.

“What’s your name?” She asks him.

He bounces back and forth heel to toe, his hand behind his back timidly. His peach-tinted skin contrasts the dark mop of curls atop his head, with two small horns peeking out of them. He’s quite slender, but still has the tiny bit of pudge that a prepubescent child would have, his cheeks round and youthful. He reminds her of one of her adoptive cousins that she’d only seen occasionally when her aunt would make an all too rare appearance— she hadn’t seen the rest of her family since she was around his age.

“Dex.” He says meekly, his face downcast and defeated as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dex. I’m Elara, and this—” she motions to the man behind her. “is Gale.”

Gale’s attention snaps to her at the sound of his own name, clearly having been mentally elsewhere during the entire exchange. He meets the uncertain gaze of the child, and bows slightly, offering a warm smile. Dex smiles back, a small chuckle leaving his lips at the gesture.

“Thank you, for helping me. I’m s-sorry you got hurt,” he points to her bloodied elbow and forearm, reminding her of the stinging sensation biting at her nerves shallowly within her skin. She winces but tries her best to disregard it.

“I think I’ll live. I’m sorry about your lyre.” She says, motioning to the scattered wooden debris and frayed strings.

He shrugs. “I’ll live.”

She chuckles, her smile widening. Gale watches her with this unfamiliar child that she had no real reason to be so kind to, other than just out of the boundless kindness of her heart, and feels that warm twinge in his chest he’d grown all too familiar with since she made her grand entrance in his life. His heart skips several beats and the urge to whisk her away and kiss her on the stoop like he’d previously imagined becomes harder and harder to resist each passing second.

“Well, Dex. I think you’d best get going home. It’ll be dark before too long and I’m sure your parents will be worried. Hm?” She tries on her best schoolteacher voice, placing her hands on her hips.

Dex sighs, his entire body shrinking at the mention of his parents. “I don’t want to go home without my lyre… they’ll be furious at me.”

She pauses for a moment, then shoots Gale a pleading glance, hoping he has any bright ideas that could magically fix everything for this poor child. She looked at him as if the child were a lost kitten that she was begging him to let her bring home.

He looks toward the sky pensively for a moment, appearing as if he were doing calculations in his head, then wordlessly and effortlessly waves his hand in a flourish, whispering an incantation that reassembles the lyre with a purple hued fog of weave.

Dex’s widened eyes sparkle with glee as each of the fractured pieces of the instrument rejoin as if they’d never been apart to begin with. The lyre floats toward the child, basked in violet and sapphire light, landing gently into his still shaky grasp. Gale smiles and nods at the boy as the light fades, his eyes gleaming with a hint of pride.

“Weeping bleeding hells! How did you do that?!” He chirps, turning the lyre in his hands and inspecting each and every inch of it in search of any cracks or imperfections, then smiling a wide toothy grin, his pointed teeth peeking over his lips when there is not a single dent or scratch to be found.

Gale chuckles, then pats the boy on the shoulder. “Stay out of trouble, young man. Hopefully next time we see you will be under better circumstances.”

The young tiefling glances back to Elara, the exuberant expression on his face contrasting the tear stains still present on his cheeks. Before she or Gale have any time to react, he throws his body between them, wrapping his tiny arms around the both of them as best as he could manage, and nuzzling his face into Elara’s arm.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” He says as he pulls away and turns to leave, glancing over his shoulder and waving to them one last time before scurrying off.

She watches the boy disappear into the distance, skipping along the cobblestone streets with a childish glee that fills her with a wistful sensation— to be that young and for everything to be so new, for something as simple as a fixed lyre to make her completely forget any hurt or pain that had befallen her. She envies him, silently, as she watches him run home to his parents surely to regale everything that happened to him today, just as she wished she’d been able to every time something exciting happened to her during the day.

Gale notices her sudden shift in demeanor, then places a hand placatingly on her uninjured arm.

“Elara?” His voice is gentle and tepid, cautious. “Allow me to help you with this,” he says, motioning to the still leaking wound on her arm. “Let’s head back.”

She sighs, turning to him but unable to muster a genuine smile, still taken by real memories and those that never came to pass. Her lips curl, but her eyes remain glossy and sullen. She nods, the motion small and nearly imperceptible. Without another word, they head back to the tower, her arm never leaving the comfort of Gale’s hand as they walk.

Something so simple, something that could mean nothing. But to her, it meant everything.

The scent of balsam and sandalwood fills the room as Gale’s adept fingers gently clean the scrape on her arm, his eyes narrowed and his brows knitted together in deep focus. He pestered her until he could coax her into sitting right in this seat where he could tend to her, much to her protest as she insisted she could do it herself and that he needn’t worry about her.

Stubborn wizard, she grunted as he gently guided her to sit. He did not regard any of her disgruntled murmurs, her insistence that she was fine and not to worry.

Just as she’d helped that boy on the street, he felt the least he could do is take gentle care of her the way she would anyone else. He wondered if anyone aside from Alastor had ever done so for her, her insistence on taking care of it herself giving him pause. Had she always had to pick herself up? Had no one ever swept in and dusted her off when she fell?

He would. From now forward. Even if it were something as small and simple as rubbing balsam on the angry and gashed skin of her arm and wrapping it with the softest cloth he could find. He would be that for her. He would be anything for her, should she ask.

It wasn’t lost on him how intimate of a gesture it was, to treat another’s wounds, either— he couldn’t deny that he simply just wanted to care for her in a way that felt deeper than just feeding her and providing a bed for her to sleep in.

“That was incredibly admirable of you, back there. Stepping in like that. That boy won’t soon forget what you’ve done for him.” He says, his tone reverent and almost thankful.

She smiles a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “He seemed like a sweet kid. And I would hope someone would do the same if it were me, in his shoes.”

She says it, but she realizes that Gale sort of had done the same for her— the way he stepped in and made the man back off. The way he stood in front of them protectively, blocking them with his body as if he were willing and ready to take whatever blows aimed at her in her place.

“He’ll remember you, too,” she continues, her breath slightly catching as he begins to wrap the cloth around her arm, and wincing as the fabric brushes against the tender skin. “You kind of saved him twice. Saved him from a drunkard and an angry lecture from his parents.”

He chuckles, shaking his head causing a stray strand of hair to fall into his eyes as he does. “I suppose so. You took care of all the heavy lifting, though. I just helped with the clean up.”

She fights herself and her need to push that hair out of his eyes. Would that be too intimate? Would that push things too far?

Her eyes lock on the strand as she speaks. “You did your own heavy lifting, for my sake. Thank you. For stepping in. And for this,” she motions to where his hands are gently tying off the ends of the cloth. “Even though you didn’t have to.”

He finishes tying a very delicate but sturdy bow, then sits back slightly, still close enough to see every detail of her face as clearly as he could see his own in a mirror when he was close enough, and eyes her for a moment, a smile ghosting on the edges of his lips.

“To do something for someone doesn’t always have to be borne of necessity or desire for reciprocity. I wanted to.”

His face was so close, she could nearly feel his breath whispering across the flushed skin of her cheeks. She wants to say thank you again, but finds that every single word in her vocabulary has escaped her as she basks in this closeness and the way she can see the reflection of the flickering candle beside her in his dark eyes that still managed to seem so bright with the way they twinkled as he looked at her.

Had he always looked at her this way? Why did this feel so different?

“Can I ask you something?” He breaks the silence but not the tension as their gazes stay locked.

She nods, still trapped in the daze of the intimacy of the moment.

“Earlier, I couldn’t help but notice— and feel free to disregard my asking, if I’m overstepping— you seemed a little… off. When the boy ran off. You looked pensive.”

She swallows hard despite her throat feeling dry, her entire body tensing at his questioning. The emotions of the day had fluctuated so immensely and the mention of the culmination of it all in that moment only serves to bid them to return in full force. A pit forms in her stomach and she feels the urge to retreat.

“Perhaps a story for another time. I’m… it’s alright.” She tries to maintain composure, despite her words wavering upon delivery. She offers Gale that same smile from before— the one that never quite reached her eyes. He frowns, but nods.

“Understood.” He says simply, their faces still dangerously close. He moves one hand to comfortingly cover hers as it rests on her knee, patting it gently. “I'm always here to offer an ear, whenever you need.”

The warmth of his hand and his words radiates throughout her entire body, down to her bones. She notices the strand is still hanging in front of his eyes. She doesn’t hold herself back from brushing it away this time, her fingertips lightly graze his forehead as she tucks it behind his ear. Her hand lingers near his face for a while, but not nearly long enough, before she drops it back to her side.

Gale looks taken aback by the gesture, quick fire flickers of shock, trepidation, then elation flashing across his expression. He smiles a smile that sends a shiver through her, his eyes dropping to her lips and the gap between them suddenly seeming so much smaller.

Oh.

It was getting smaller, as she realized that the magnetic pull between their lips was getting stronger as they both began to lean in, her body taking the reins as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening and determine if she were dreaming or not— was this just an infatuation induced hallucination? Had she finally lost it?

“Mr. Dekarios?”

The sound of Tara’s voice calling from down the hall cuts the moment short, both of their heads snapping in the direction of the sudden intrusion. Gale sighs, his head falling in evident disappointment. He glances at her, her eyes wide and her cheeks a bright rosy red that makes his heart flutter.

“To be continued, perhaps. I should—“

“No worries, go ahead. I’m going to go rest, my head is killing me.” She waves him off, attempting to hide her own disappointment and slight shock.

Gale stares at her for a moment, the desire to kiss her still lingering but ebbing as he sees her pulling away, suddenly feeling as though he’d done something wrong. He opens his mouth to ask, but before he can she’s standing and quickly darting across the room and into the hall, stopping just at the doorway and peering at him over her shoulder.

She sighs, placing a hand on the doorway and using it for support, her legs feeling as though they may give out on the spot. “Thank you, again.”

He watches helplessly as she disappears into the hall and the sounds of her footsteps fade slowly, preceded by the sound of a bedroom door clicking shut. His eyes pinch shut so tightly that it nearly hurts, and he sinks back into his chair, wishing a blackhole would form underneath him and swallow him. He could conjure one, if he wanted.

He heavily considered it.

“Mr. Dekarios, fix your posture! Your back already aches enough as it is,” Tara remarks as she strolls into the room, blissfully unaware of the havoc she’d just wreaked on his sanity.

As per usual.

There were a surprising amount of cracks in the ceiling above the bed in the room that she stayed in.

Everything else in this tower seemed nearly pristine aside from appearing well lived in and well loved, Gale evidently cared greatly about his surroundings. The home was cluttered but organized to his exact liking, perfectly tidy but still cozy and comfortable. Anyone who entered would feel at home.

She felt at home, more than she wanted to admit to herself. She tried to continue to remind herself that at some point she would have to leave and move on. But as she lay in this bed— this large, ever so comfortable bed— gaze trailing along the strangely cracked ceiling of her bedroom, she wondered what the ceiling of his bedroom looked like.

She was certain there were no cracks in his bedroom ceiling. There couldn’t be.

Today had been immensely overwhelming in terms of her feelings toward Gale that had been simply burning embers and were now alight in full force— him having stoked the fires tenfold with his seemingly innocent touches and his evident care for her that he put on full display multiple times throughout the day, all culminating in an almost-kiss.

They almost kissed. He almost kissed her.

They were so close. She could still feel the heat of his breath against her cheeks and the skin of the back of her hand tingled with the sensation as if his hand remained there still, his thumb rubbing languid circles against her wrist. In fact, every part of her skin that he’d touched today still felt as if it had been electrically charged, still buzzing, and her stomach aching. She missed the feeling of him already and it was only a mere whisper of a taste rather than an entire bite.

It wasn’t entirely her fault, obviously, that it never came to pass— Tara had a way of having serendipitously terrible timing. She wasn’t always sure that Tara didn’t know exactly what she was doing, and she wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case this time.

It was endearing, most of the time.

But even if Tara hadn’t interrupted— would she have really kissed him? Would he have really kissed her? Or would some other force of nature and horrible timing pluck them out of each other's grasps yet again?

She thinks maybe he would have. She hopes.

Now, she’s not sure she’ll ever get the chance to.

Guilt began to gnaw and claw at her insides furiously as she remembered the way she’d exited the study— hurried and curtly— and the way hurt and confusion etched into his features as he watched her leave. She couldn’t explain why she left that way, she truly didn’t know. She wished she did. She wished she understood why she ever ran away from Gale in the moments when they felt the closest. The moments she had longed for for so long— so why wouldn’t she let herself enjoy them?

It wasn’t that she was inexperienced in the romance department— she’d had a few partners here and there, mostly in school, and one since then that lasted a couple years but ultimately just didn’t work out— and if she’s being honest, she’d never been nervous around another person the way she was around him.

And strangely enough, she felt very comfortable with him most of the time— aside from the occasional flips her gut did when she glanced up to see him at his desk, deep in thought and quill in hand, glasses perched just on the end of his nose as he read whatever scroll or tome he was fixated on.

He’s an easy person to just exist with. That is, if you aren’t hopelessly enamored with him.

Gods.

She clenches her eyes shut and pinches the bridge of her nose— another habit of Gale’s that she’d picked up— wishing the large quilt and plush mattress beneath her would just swallow her. Just take her away from it all and save her from having to deal with the consequences of her own idiocy.

Knock knock.

“Elara?”

The sound of Gale’s voice on the other side of her door lurches her from her thoughts and her body up from the mattress. She quickly hops off of the bed and approaches the door, her hand hovering over the handle.

“Yes?” She asks, turning her head so her voice appears further away than it actually was.

She hears what sounds like feet shuffling aside from a brief pause, before hearing a long and defeated sigh.

“Can we talk?” Is all he manages, dejection evident in his tone.

She reaches for the handle again, turning it slowly and pulling the door just enough to see him through the crack.

He looked the way he did when something was weighing heavily on his mind or vexing him— she could tell he’d been raking his fingers frantically through his hair as it was uncharacteristically messy and unkempt, his robes were nowhere to be seen, and he stood only in his white wrap shirt and his breeches.

Not now, brain. Not now.

“Everything alright?” She asks, trying to hide the sound of her swallowing the massive lump in her throat.

He shakes his head, placing his hand against the wood grain and gently pushing it, opening it further.

“The very question I came to ask you,” he retorts. “May I?”

She nods, backing away from the door to give him enough room to push it the rest of the way open, her heart thudding a million a minute. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his expression nearly unreadable. For as expressive as his eyes were, she had such a hard time understanding him or trying to sort out what mental storm was brewing in his head.

“I could not bear resting my head upon my pillow and or fathom sleeping a wink tonight without knowing whether I’ve done something to upset you or not. If I crossed any lines today, please do tell me, and allow me to offer my most sincere of apologies for—“

What?

“Gale—“

“—ever making you feel uncomfortable or uneasy in any way, I would never want to jeopardize the friendship that I feel we have formed over the course of your time here—”

“Gale, hold on—“

“—if I’ve done something to potentially sour anything, just know it was never my intention—“

“Gale!” She raises her voice in a final attempt to catch the rambling wizard’s attention, crossing the space between them and placing her hands on his shoulders.

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders tense and she can feel the way his body trembles slightly.

“Relax, please. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable. Ever.” She coos, rubbing circles with her thumb into his shoulder.

A few days ago, a gesture like this would’ve made her entire being feel as though she were on fire— but after today, it felt right. After receiving such care and comfort from him, the least she felt she could do was to return it in kind.

He stares at her incredulously, as if he simply just doesn’t believe a word she’s saying.

“You don’t have to spare me, Elara. I saw the way you looked when you left the study. I never want to make you feel that way, ever again.” His face softens as he speaks, the pain of potentially slighting her in some way weighing heavily on his chest.

She blinks a few times, then that gnawing guilt returns with even sharper teeth, maybe some claws too. She pinches her eyes shut and releases a long breath from her nose.

“It wasn’t you. Truly. I just— there is a lot on my mind right now, and I don’t want to burden you with any of it. It’s okay, really.”

It wasn’t a lie, at least not entirely. There was a lot on her mind— even if most of it was that of a certain brown eyed wizard who happened to be standing in her doorway, looking like that.

A great portion of it was her family, though. How much she missed them all. Her uncle, she had begun to miss terribly. She wondered what antics he was up to, as his vague letters did little to quench her curiosity. She hoped he was safe, wherever he ended up or wherever he was heading to.

She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her mother’s lap and tell her all about Waterdeep and her lovely tour guide and everything she’d done since she left Rivington. She wanted to hear her father go on and on about how he must meet this man that occupies his most precious and only daughter’s thoughts. She wanted to introduce him to them. They’d love him, she thinks.

No, she knows they would.

His eyes find hers in the dim candlelight, searching them for something, anything that could answer at least one of the myriad of questions he wanted to but couldn’t find the nerve to ask. The pale blue moonlight filters in through the large window on the other side of the room, almost haloing her and basking her in an ethereal glow.

“It’s not a burden if it’s taken on willingly,” he retorts. “I care for you, Elara. Allow me to lighten your load.”

If the room had been any quieter, she swears the sound of her heart booming through the smaller space would be deafening. “It’s not important. You have many other things to concern yourself with, I don’t expect you to—”

“The only thing concerning me presently is—” he pauses. You, is what he wants to say, but can’t seem to wrench it out of himself. “What is important to you is important to me. I meant it when I told you that I would be here for you, no matter the situation.”

How this man has not been wed yet, is beyond madness to her.

“Gale…” it comes out more as a plea, as she feels her resolve to maintain composure weakening bit by bit as the conversation continues. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. And really, she felt now really wasn’t a very opportune time for an orphan sob story. Not exactly the most pleasant thoughts to have to sleep on. She knew from experience.

His shoulders sink. This was one of several attempts now that he’d made to break down the walls she had built up, and he was beginning to feel like the villain rather than the hero coming to rescue the trapped maiden from her tower.

“I do apologize. I fear I’m overstepping once again. Here may be a good place to leave this conversation for now. I’ll let you rest.” He resigns, his words betraying the sullen expression he held.

“Gale, no, I didn’t mean—”

He holds his hand up to stop her. “It’s quite alright. Get some rest. Goodnight, Elara.”

Before she can stop him, he turns to leave, pulling the door shut behind him.

The room suddenly feels several degrees colder than it had prior to what had just occurred. She feels as though all of the oxygen had been sucked from her lungs and every bit of strength had been sapped from her body within a split second— emotional fortitude included, as tears that had been begging to be shed that she had been neglecting for longer than she could confidently say finally began to fall, slipping down her cheeks and wetting the collar of her night shirt.

Her head falls back as she makes eye contact with the ceiling once again, gaze finding a large crack just above where she stood. It looked fresh, almost. Like it had occurred within the last day or so.

She wondered if he noticed it while he stood in the doorway.

She wondered if he was in his room, staring at the ceiling of his own bedroom, checking for cracks.

“Goodnight, Gale.” She whispers into the darkness of the night.

tags: @goddess-bound @mirandpeglell @celestialowlbear 🩷 (thank u guys for ur love I hope u like this chapter!!!!)

this is part two of a series - ✧ (chapter 1)

#gale dekarios fic #gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios fanfic #gale dekarios fanfiction #gale dekarios #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldur’s gate 3 fanfiction #my fics #wti

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thefallennightmare · 1 year

Text

Moment of Weakness-seventeen

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Notes: I have no idea why this one was so hard to write! It could be because I have my mind working on overdrive for my Winter Soldier story I've got planned. BUT, the real freaking drama is about to happen so buckle the fuck up.

Tags(closed): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @unaxv @alana4610 @broadwaybabe18 @themayzittcha @playboystark @raajali3 @ozwriterchick @ragamuffin285 @screamingdying @themorningsunshine @kenziekugler22 @calwitch @sebastianstansqueen @stanaddict @stucky-simp03 @sleyeveryday @loustan90 @lyra-black13 @valsworldofcreativity @cjand10 @tesseract69 @batprincess1013 @subwaysurf45 @arsonfrogger @yoruse @5moremin @lipstickandtanqueray @mandijo17 @joannaromanoff @justsebstan @winters1917 @elizacusi-blog

Monday morning came before I was ready to face it, but I knew that there wasn’t any way I would be able to stay home, avoiding my problems, for much longer. My mind had been jumbled with thoughts of Bucky and Steve which made my decision way harder than I would have liked it to be. What did help, however, was that I didn’t hear from either of them the last couple of days, both giving me space when I needed it most.

Now, the half block walk from where I parked my car to the office building gave me time to think even more about the two men.

Steve.

He was a breath of fresh air, something different and inviting. He never once judged me for what I was doing with Bucky. He never said he knew but didn’t have too. Steve was nice from day one when I started, and our relationship grew slowly over time and it would be stupid not to give him a chance.

Bucky.

Bucky was everything that I had been wanting for so long, he’s the one that my heart yearns for when I’m not around him. He’s the one that I think of the second I put my head down for the night and the second I rise from the bed.

While there was chemistry when Steve and I kissed, it was always different with Bucky.

My heart rate would accelerate, pounding all throughout my body while my knees would go weak, unable to stand. There was so much fire and intensity with something unknown hidden behind every one of Bucky’s kisses. I couldn’t explain it, it merely kept me wanting more.

However, there still was the fact that Bucky was married and unable to fully commit to me one hundred percent while Steve was ready to give himself to me; in more ways than one.

In the end, someone was going to get hurt and I was willing for it to be me so neither Bucky nor Steve would fall prey to it.

As I turned the corner, Barnes Industries coming into view, I felt a burning gaze at the back of my head which caused me to turn on my heels. Eyes scanned the busy street, other people getting ready to start their own workday, and when no one seemed out of place, I continued the short walk to the front door.

Only now, the burning intensified, and I quickly spun around, this time catching a petite woman dart down the alley a couple feet away from me.

“What the fuck,” I muttered with furrowed brows.

When I turned back around, I collided with a large chest, feet stumbling back, and I prepared myself to fall onto the concrete. Strong arms wrapped around me, catching me before I fell.

His eyes bored into mine and my body went rigid with fear.

“Cl-clint.” I stammered.

Clint helped me stand up straight and made a mockery of dusting my shoulders off.

“You should really watch where you’re going, Y/N. You never know who you might run into, literally.”

My lips were pulled in a straight line, too afraid to speak a word, and I did the best I could to move past him through the crowded streets. Two gazes were burning a hole into the back of my head but I didn’t bother to look back and see, knowing who one of them belonged to.

“Shit.”

“Oh fuck!”

A small scream fell from my lips when I collided with yet another body, only this one I felt safe in their embrace as his vibranium hand captured my lower back. Bucky’s blue eyes watching me with concern.

“Doll? Are you alright?”

I shook my head, blinking away a few tears that pooled in my eyes. Bucky looked around before pulling me further inside of the building, helping me sit in the chair at my desk.

He kneeled in front of me, placing a hand on my cheek. “Hey, what happened?”

“I felt as if someone was watching me when I was walking in. I got distracted trying to see who and ended up walking into Clint. There’s no way that he would be in your neighborhood for the hell of it, right?”

Bucky’s shoulders went rigid, a low scowl on his lips. “Only to scare you.”

I shook my head. “I thought you paid off the hit?”

“I did,” he nodded. “Maybe he’s trying to scare you.”

“Well, it worked,” I sniffled.

With both of his hands around the back of my neck, he placed a small kiss on my forehead, the action calming my shaking bones immediately.

“Maybe I should go home. He doesn't know where I live,” I said.

As soon as the words left my lips, I couldn’t help but question that statement. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he knew where I lived.

“I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here, that way I can make sure you’re safe,” Bucky replied.

I nodded, knowing he was right.

We stared at each other, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as Bucky began to lean in closer and even with the fire burning low in my abdomen, I let out a small cough to put some distance between us.

“I think I’m going to make some coffee, get my mind off what happened.”

“Sure,” Bucky gave me a forced smile and slowly pulled away. “I’ll be in my office and have the door open if you need anything.”

I didn’t bother to see the small look of hurt across his face as I removed myself from his grasp.

Who was that woman? Something about her screamed familiar but I never got a good look at her face.

I mulled those same thoughts in my mind as I stood in front of the coffee maker, teeth caught between my teeth, trying to figure out who that mystery woman was that darted into the alley when I caught her following me.

“Maybe she works with Clint,” I muttered to myself, pouring a rather large cup of coffee.

My third one in a few hours.

The morning slowly spilled into the early afternoon and I had done a great job in avoiding Bucky and Steve, not ready to face the latter. Though, I knew that at some point I would have to talk to him, to let him know how I felt.

“Hey,” a soft voice sounded behind me.

Fuck, I didn’t mean right now.

I sighed, giving Steve a small smile. “Hi.”

“Bucky told me what happened,” Steve said while running a hand through his hair.

“I’m okay,” I assured him, noticing how worried he was. “Clint didn’t hurt me.”

“I promise you; I paid him off. Bucky handed me the money and I brought it to Clint’s house. He gave me his word that the hit is off,” he assured me.

I gave him a firm nod. “Steve, you don’t need to prove yourself. I believe you.”

His shoulders relaxed a bit before I felt his fingers grasp at my own, pulling me towards his office. “Can we talk, in private?”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I knew that this conversation would happen eventually and now would be the best time to get it over with. No more avoiding it.

“Sure.”

I let Steve gently pull me into his office and once the door was closed, he motioned for the couch that sat in place on the other end of the room. We both sat, with some distance between us.

He ran a hand over his beard and let out a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize. You’re going through a lot right now and I shouldn’t have added more by kissing you.”

I place a hand on his knee. “I wanted that kiss just as much as you did, Steve.”

His face brightened. “You did?”

“Yeah. We’ve been doing this dance for months now, it was only a matter of time.”

Steve sighed. “But-.”

My heart stung when I realized he had a hint of what I was going to say, his tone of voice sounding so broken.

This time I linked our hands together. “I don’t think it’s fair to you to be with you if I’m not 100 percent committed to you. You don’t deserve that.”

Steve’s blue eyes twinkled under the light from his office. “But you do?”

I blinked, a bit caught off guard, and didn’t know how to answer him only because he was right. Why did I deserve to be with someone that wasn’t committed to me?

“I can’t explain it,” I admitted with a shrug. “There’s something about him that it’s hard to let go.”

Steve lifted my chin when I looked down ashamed. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Y/N. I’m used to losing girls to Buck.”

“Do you hate me?” I asked with a shaky breath.

“I could never hate you.”

We gazed into each other's eyes and even with the magnetic pull I felt bringing me in closer to him, I fought against it by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“You’re a good man, Rogers,” I breathed against his skin.

The bright glow of the moon spilled through the large windows of the building and with a low breath, I packed up my things purposely taking my time. I had to leave, go home for the night, but I was afraid of walking to my car alone with what happened this morning.

Steve had left a few hours ago, with a quick wave but broken eyes, and it did nothing to mend the hurt I felt in my stomach. It made me sick, knowing I caused him that pain.

I glanced over to the office behind me, the man lounging on his couch with his head resting against the back of it, eyes shut in quiet solace.

We spent the majority of the day avoiding each other but now that I needed to ask him a huge favor, I wasn’t quite sure on how Bucky would answer.

A gentle tap sounded on the frame of his door causing him to open his eyes, small smile pulling at his lips.

“Headed out?” Bucky nodded to my purse and jacket.

I nodded. “I know I’ve been avoiding you all day so feel free to say no.”

With his own nod, I continued. “Would you mind walking me to my car?”

“Of course, doll.”

Bucky’s smile warmed my heart, and I waited patiently as he slipped on his leather jacket. “Ready?”

“Yea,” I smiled.

The cold night air wrapped around us and I made an effort to bring my jacket closer to me, in hope of creating some sort of heat. Bucky noticed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder to pull me closer. The warmth that radiated from him quickly spread to my own body and I silently moaned at the feeling.

“Bucky?”

My voice was quiet but he still heard, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “You alright, doll?”

We came to a stop in front of my car and I avoided leaving; not before telling him exactly how I felt about everything.

My palm rested against his cheek, his plump lips pressing a kiss upon the skin there and the butterflies that laid dormant the last few days began to flutter to life.

“I don’t want to get hurt,” I made known.

Bucky nodded in my grasp. “I don’t want to hurt you, doll.”

“I like you a lot, Bucky.”

He quickly brought me closer to him, our nose grazing against one another.

“The feelings are mutual.”

His voice was deep which made my core itch with desire.

Bucky began digging around in his pocket and placed a small, white card in my hand. As the words burned into my brain, my lips curled up in a smile.

Matt Murdock. New York’s Best Divorce Lawyer.

“A divorce?” I questioned, with so much optimism.

He answered my question by capturing our lips together, his own feeling so soft and tasted like the bourbon I saw him drink earlier in the night. Our bodies molded together, as they always did, and I nibbled on his bottom lip when he pulled away.

“I’m hoping by the end of the month she’ll be served with the papers.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “You’re really leaving her?”

Vibranium fingers tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “For you, Y/N. I’d do anything for you. The mere thought of possibly losing you to Steve was a wakeup call. I can’t lose you and I will do anything to keep you.”

Our lips met in yet another heated kiss, Bucky pushing me up against the cold metal of my car and I looped my fingers into the belt loops of his pants to bring him closer to me, needing that reminder of how his cock felt pressed against me.

We were so engrossed in each other, our possible future together, that neither of us felt the burning eyes from the figure that lingered in the darkness.

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan #moment of weakness-mob!bucky barnes

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rreskk · 1 year

Note

Can you make a Trevor x fem!reader smut/fluff where reader has always had a crush on Trevor but never actually told him because of her shyness and fear he would reject her (and T on the other hand has always been teasing her), so Trevor catches reader, ahem, "having fun with herself", and ends with a dommy T and fluffiness afterwards (love you and your fics❤)

---A/N: Of fucking course!! :)

Summary: He interrupted your 'you' time.

TW: Smut

“You’re so beautiful for me…” He grinned and ushered while eye-dropping your body. His hands staining your hips and waist, them bloody nails leaving behind red marks of his touch. You dropped down onto his lap and strangled his erection with the ass he fancies the most.

“Yes, Trevor, yes.”

“You fuckin’ saint… I want to fuck you so hard,” The intel of his desires shaped the way you grinded his thigh. Trevor embodied you with his arms and tagged you closer to his warm chest.

“Trevor…”

“You’ll be screaming my name, baby. Everyone on this street will know the dirty angel I’m fuckin’.”

You whimpered until the lips of his ghostly body shuts you up. The force pushed you against his bed, the man hovering over you with hunger in his devilish eyes. You reached out and…

Your bedroom door opened.

You were lying there on your bed, fingers tangling below with your panties fully exposing your wet pussy. Fantasizing and masturbating of Trevor was completely disengaged when a limb shadow cooled your hot body.

You opened your eyes.

“Jesus Christ!” The husky voice laughed.

You gasped and held a hand over your naked breasts.

Trevor stood over you with a cat-like grin. His eyes scanned your physique until you immediately hid under your covers.

“Trevor!” You yelled in shock, “W-What are you doing?”

He depicted you as dumb with the raise of his eyebrow. He slurred out a pesky finger and pointed at you.

“You… Missy, was calling my name.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I went to give you a visit and walked in. I then heard you go; Trevor! Oh, Trevor! Yes, Trevor yes!” His smile was growing wider.

You could die. You were so embarrassed.

“You could of knocked!”

Trevor gasped offensively, “Excuse me, sugar. I thought you were screaming for some help. It’s not every day I hear someone say my name so… Passionately,” He snickered. You were going to return his smart talk but the man leaned closer to your sweaty face, “But you were calling me for another reason, mhm?”

His darkened eyes was hard to resist. How could you deny something he saw? You were caught red-handed and to your luck, he’s… Aroused by it.

“It was always banter when I accused you of liking me,” He cackled, “But little did I know, baby. You wanna know something?”

You whispered timidly, “What?”

“I jack off to you everyday as well.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Dead fuckin’ serious. I keep you around for a reason…” Trevor soon glanced down at your collarbone, “And fuck… You give me the best orgasms of my life.”

Your unfinished business began throbbing again. You uncomfortably shifted in your bed and he struct you with his psychotic toothy grin.

“I came just before you could finish, babe?”

You nodded.

“Hmmmm… Good, good. Get rid of the covers. Lemme see you.”

Obeying, you slowly pushed the sheets off your body and you watched Trevor grope his bulge. His head fell back and he released an animalistic groan.

“Fuuucck, sugar. You are too damn sexy,” He stepped closer and licked his teeth, “Darl, get on your hands and knees for me.”

The demand was compulsory. Wobbling to reach his standard, you faced away from him so Trevor could gain the VIP sight of your ass. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to speak.

“Mhm, you are making Uncle T very… VERY happy.”

The praise was followed by the contact of his finger tracing the roundness of your hips and ass. You knew he was close to you as he was heavily breathing.

“You know,” Murmured Trevor, “This day should of come sooner.”

He properly reached and exacted himself right behind you. His hands began bruising it’s place on your stomach, inserting one finger to tickle your nipple and squeeze your breasts… His clothed crotch was grinding itself against your naked ass, yearning.

“I know.”

He chuckled, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Trevor stroked down your stomach until his hand returned to your hips.

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same…”

He stopped touching you.

The motion was eruptive and sharp. You inhaled in case you’ve accidentally hit a sensitive spot in his unpredictable nature.

“Didn’t feel the same?” He repeated.

You lowered your body and turned around, facing him with concern.

“I don’t know. I thought I weren’t your type.”

“My type?” His face cracked with disbelief, “What the fuck? What do you think my type is?”

There was only wrong answers as you had no idea.

“Shit, Trev… I don’t know.”

Trevor clicked his fingers at your failed attempt of answering. You sighed.

“Wrong. My type is anyone with huge tits and juicy ass, yeah?”

You nodded.

“WRONG!” He lashed out. The aggression was real and you flinched at the pitch of his voice, “I fuckin’ love some big tits but my type? My type is anyone who’s real, loyal and compassionate.”

“Right…”

Trevor extended his arm and your face was soon being caressed by him.

“You are my damn type, sugar. I ain’t no male prostitute… Well, I am… No. No I am not. I’m just a male slut. But! But I have a standard… And you are exactly my dream girlie. Sexy, loyal, a little bit timid BUT I will boost your damn confidence, lady.”

It was comforting as he’d express his admiration through his own words… And vocabulary. It was special considering it came from him. And you appreciated that.

“Now…” He removed his hands from your face and proceeded to study your body, “Let’s see…” His composure was stiff when thinking to himself, “Get on your back. I wanna make this special for us.”

As you rested against the mattress, Trevor was quick to throw off his shirt and took a few seconds to unbuckle his black belt (struggling due to adrenaline). The gasp that left your lips when he pulled down his trousers AS WELL AS underwear… He was hard. VERY. The cock was twitching and was so erected it almost touched his stomach. Trevor held it as he crawled over to you on the bed. He forced your legs over his shoulders and gave you a subtle look.

“Imma make sure you ain’t gonna forget today.”

You smiled at him. Knowing the impact of his largeness from looking at it, you gripped your bed railings for support. Trevor smirked.

“Oh, you ready… My sweet little-“ His nostrils flared and he pushed into you mid-sentence, “M-My sweet little… Fuck, sugar.”

You groaned when he began thrusting into you. The pressure your body needed; Trevor being there to save you.

“You are so loose for me, ay? You’ve been horny for a long time, baby. I can tell.” He giggled crazily before slapping his groin against your thighs.

Your legs tightened around his shoulders, almost suffocating him. The muscles in your thighs grew larger as you’d flex them whenever he thrusts. Trevor was staring down at your tits. They jiggled and wobbled so animatedly. It was like he was hypnotised.

“Fuck, Trevor!” Your fantasy has come true. You were moaning his name like you were before, in your dreams. Breathing for air was hard considering he left no time, he just kept on pushing and drilling inside of you. The drugs that gives him speed clearly is taking an effect as he’s so rapid.

“Yes, [Y/n], my God. You fuckin’ GODESS!”

Flexing your thighs again, Trevor averted his eyes from your tits and turned to the legs that were restricting his breathing. His tongue fell out of his mouth and began licking exotically across your skin. As he’d ruthlessly fuck you, the slimy trail of his saliva on your legs that glistened in the light followed up to where he turned licking into kissing.

“Yes, Trevor!” You pleaded.

He attacked you with his lips. Your thighs and calves were left in red and brown bruises. It was so beautifully presented. After admiring his work, he grew tired and leaned closer, dropping them from his shoulders. Trevor was doing snake press-ups over your nakedness. His strong arms helped him thrust in and out so effectively. You couldn’t help yourself and reached for his neck, pulling him closer.

“Hmm, I’m here, baby,” Trevor purred at the sudden closeness, “I ain’t leavin’ your pretty face out.” A soft touch of his lips molested the inner circle of your neck. However bad you wanted him, it was never enough.

“Harder, Trev.”

He perked his head up, “Harder, you say?”

You nodded frantically.

“Ohhh, I love your style, baby,” A snicker was all you heard before he increased his speed. His face was inches above your breasts as he’d focus on giving you it rough and hard, “F-Fuck… You horny as fuck, babe. I fuckin’ LOVE IT.”

Now you were at risk of hitting your head on the bed railings. It was glorious. You could almost see stars until…

“M’okay… [Y/n], I gotta-“ Trevor pulled out in time for his cum to demolish your bed covers. His face was crunched with ecstasy and his arms were shaking out of weakness. You were so close that seeing him collapse onto your breasts did it.

“Trevor!” You choked out. The clogged up climax that had been distressing you all day was finally out and it dribbled down, mixing itself with Trevor’s fluids.

His body was practically meshed with yours. He was panting like an animal, his hair dampened with sweat and mouth wide open, projecting his intoxicating breath upon your chest. You rubbed his back and was washed over in relief. You couldn’t believe your dream had come true.

#trevor philips x reader #trevor philips/reader #trevor philips #gta 5 #gta v #grand theft auto 5 #grand theft auto v

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that-one-random-writer · 1 year

Text

City Of Love Part 1 [complete]

Kind of an AU drabble multi part words: 1,037

Summary: You are a famous fashion designer, Jake is an actor. You style Jake for a photoshoot for his cover on Vogue magazine. It set you up for a night in Paris.

Warnings: 18+ for language and NSFW content, smoking a cigarette.

A/N: I am feeling writers block in my current story, Caution to the Wayward Son. I wanted to write something that might trigger some brain activity.

My Masterlist. Part 2

Your skin had the ultimate comfort of the white, down duvet. The crisp pillows held your head in a perfect mold. You lifted your head, and your feet fell flat against the smooth hardwood floor as you turned. You stood up and slipped your arms in your robe. Your body is embellished with black lacy lingerie with a mesh robe lined with fur.

You glide through the airy room. You stop in front of the glass doors to your balcony. Your assistant, Naviair, opened the door for you, and you stepped onto the balcony. Naviair handed you your morning coffee. You sat with a cigarette in your hand and lit the end, puffing smoke into open air above the streets of Paris.

Your assistant joined you on the balcony once your cigarette was out. He sat at the table beside you. He pulled out your schedule book. "Navi dear, why must our lives be so busy? Can't we just take a day?" You tossed your head back, wishing away your busy schedule.

"Darling, you know you run important roles in this industry. You are an elite designer. You can't just run willy nilly across the city." You pulled your knees up, watching the busy streets. Your mind frolicking in the city.

"Commençons" 'let's begin' he spoke in his native tongue. You nodded, and he began your schedule. "Hair and make up will be here in an hour. You have to get ready for a shoot for Vogue. You will be preparing the designs you created for the cover." His hands were thrown into the air dramatically. "Jake's Rise To The Top"

You lean back into the chair. "The one with the hot actor?" You gasp, Naviair looking you up and down. "Yes, and if you show up like that, I think he might be a little too excited to fit the pants. Now let's go, you have an outfit to style for yourself." He offered his hand to help you stand. You lifted with grace from your seat.

Naviair led you into the closet. "What shall I go for today? Maybe Versace? Louis Vuitton?"

You choose a white top with gold embroidery. It has a strong angled shoulder line that cuts into the skin on your shoulder, and your back is bare as a statement. The bottom is high waisted pants with black and gold. Your waist is cinched with a black wide belt. White and gold red bottom heels with a black pair of sunglasses.

"Good choice. So chic. Hair and make-up are here." Naviair takes your hand.

You lean into the stylist chair. The cold leather tensing your skin. Two stylists begin working.

"So we are thinking some dark, with a little gold and a bright red lip." The makeup artist prepped your skin. "Yes, please use the new color that Navi picked up a few days ago."

"For Hair, I'm thinking curls for femininity to peak through. Contrasting with the masculinity in the pants." You nodded, agreeing. "I couldn't agree more." You allow them time to work.

You emerge from the chair once they are complete with their art. Your feet clacking against the wooden floors. You grab your folder for the styles for today's shoot. Thanking the pair while leaving the room.

The car rides past the busy city and stops at the studio. Your chauffeur opens the door. Flashes blare through your dark tinted lenses. Naviair held your hand, helping you up the stairs avoiding the paparazzi.

"Bonjour, right this way." The attendant led you to the back. The attendant knocked in a pattern, the doors slid open. You move to the center of the room elegantly. "Oh, tres belle" 'very beautiful' "Please come, we have the sets you ordered right here." Your head of correspondence called to you. You lifted your glasses from your view, pulling out the articles of clothing.

You followed into the room where Jake was taking practice shots. "Jake, is it?"

Jake's eyes left the camera lens and met with a beautiful woman. "Yes, ma'am."

Jake's voice was rough in all the right way. "I'm ready for you now." Jake stepped down. Following behind you. You both step into the dressing room. You hand him the clothing. "Oh, um, thank you..." He trailed. He expected you to leave the room, but he was in france. Once you turned to the mirror glancing over your makeup, he decided you weren't leaving, kicking off his shoes, and he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. His strong shoulder peeked through the top. He slid the top off his arms, tossing the shirt over the chair. His pants unbuttoned and slipped down his toned legs. He paired the shirt and pants together over the chair. He grabbed the new outfit and turned around the pants gliding over his legs. You turned admiring his muscled back. "What are you thinking?" His gaze caught yours in the mirror in front of him.

"Nothing safe for work, I assure you." Your cheeks threatened color under your makeup. "I won't tell anyone..." His rough tone teased. He turned facing you. "Maybe another time?" His arms slid through the shirt. You stepped closer to him and slowly buttoned the shirt. Your hands wrapped into his collar, positioning the corners and creases.

His calloused hands gripped your soft touch. "Dinner tonight?" His confidence lured your eyes to his.

"I have to check my schedule, but I would love to." Your face just inches from his. He handed you a card. "My personal number is on the back. Call me when you decide." He slipped on his shoes and made it back to the shoot.

"Naviair..." You called out for your assistant. "Yes, amour?" Love. He spoke out from the hallway. "What is my schedule for tonight?" He opened the schedule book. "You have a meeting with Pierre." You spun on your heels and walked out from the dressing room. "Can you reschedule?"

He smirked. "And what should I tell him?"

You looked him up and down mimicking his smirk. "Something has come up. He will understand. Now come Navi. I have something to get ready for. My work here is done." You look back at the photoshoot, Jake is pushing his hair back with his hands holding his jacket over his shoulder.

Naviair commented, "Chef's kiss, he looks incredible. You've done it again." You both made your way out the door. "Was there ever any doubt?" Your looks of showed pride.

I do not give permission for my stories to be posted anywhere. Stealing stories makes you a c u next tuesday.

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theanimekid · 2 years

Text

Blood and Gold

“Gold is forever. It is beautiful, useful, and never wears out. Small wonder that gold has been prized over all else, in all ages, as a store of value that will survive the travails of life and the ravages of time.” — James Blakeley

“And now, born from the ashes, she’s a warrior in bloodied black.” ― Amie Kaufman

TW: Blood, angst, mild cursing

Pairing: Samuel Seo X Thicc Reader

A/n: I am pretty sure no one in the lookism fandom thought about a chubby reader, good thing I came along

Overview: Being the adopted daughter of a household of men, a server at your father's club, and a bouncer, and encountering your boss all in one night.

Chapter 1: The bloody club

A bit of Background information:

You didn't live in a remarkably regular home. Your parents were constantly arguing every day for what seemed like forever. Your father was a drunkard, and your mother tried her best to put food on the table. But when you heard them argue time and time again, You couldn't take it anymore, so you ran.

As far away as you can, away from it all. But the conflict was born in humanity, and it is impossible to escape it. You lived on the streets. And finding food, home, money, and clothing. But it wasn't easy, only leaving home at 5 years old, it was something you must acclimate to. For months, you lived in harsh conditions, stealing food from stores and taking clothes from any nearby neighbors, it became a daily routine for you.

Everything changed within one instant.

You run down a busy street with food in hand, barefooted and with a ragged hoddie and pants while the shopkeeper was pursuing you from behind. " Get back here, you little brat!!!" The storekeeper blurted angrily. As he was just about to seize you by the shoulder, but you were a fast one. Making a sharp turn into the closed street corner, the storekeeper fell into one of the trashcans. Injuring himself as you thought you got away from that guy. Someone pulled you from almost killing yourself because a car nearly hit you on impact. You looked behind at your rescuer, the elder man wearing a suit and tie along with a long black coat and suitcase. You stared at him for a second before the streetlight turned green and people started walking. The old gentleman tugged you along with him as you were struggling to break free. " I've been looking for you for quite some while," The old man spoke calmly, his voice sturdy and firm, "My men told me they had some trouble with a small lassie. So, I considered I attend to the matter myself, but it seems fate got us together. Heh… How peculiar." He chuckled as the two of you walked to the other side of the avenue.

" So... 'm in trouble or something Mr.?" You emitted quietly as he barely let go of your hand. He got on one knee and gazed into your eyes, gentleness and forthright. He shook his head, " No, you're not. as of matter of fact, I want to take you home with me."

Has he gone mad? why would he take in a street rat like you... let alone a chubby one

Even after all the trouble you caused... What's going on in this old man's head?

Before you could get away from the man, a limousine pulled up in front of him. " Ah, look like our ride Is here." He clamored merrily as the driver opened the door for him. He got in before turning to you, "well, you coming in or what, my adopted grandchild?"

===================

And that's how you were adopted by an old man, became a server and bouncer at your grandfather's party joint: The Bloody Club. It has gotten the name because of the fighting that had happened there, and possibly you being in the middle of it. As a bouncer, if they start something, you gotta break it up, or otherwise, it'll escalate.

As you were serving some people on the lower floor with one of your younger brothers, the music was blasting, and lights flashed throughout the party. People were dancing, drinking, and talking loud as hell. You did a slight mini hop as the DJ played your favorite song. " Heyy, your favorite song's on." Your brother yelled as he served the beverages to the women in a facade of him, plainly trying to get in bed with him. He is attractive, after all. All the men in your family are, and you are too.

Clamoring started to draw your attention to the dance floor. Two intoxicated males with tattoos are about to start a brawl. You sighed as you went down into your skirt sack and grabbed your Golden knuckle braces, with your full nickname spelled on them: Bloody Baroness. You went from behind the counter and to the dance floor.

" Go raise hell, Baby Baroness." Your Younger brother hollered. As he was going to cover your shift.

You moved some of the people to the side as you went into the conversation, " Oi, How about you two take this outside? Don't make it a scene." You reasoned as the two men stared at you with malicious intent and fever drunkness. " And doe a little girl like you gonna do about it?" He said soberly as he reached in his pocket. " I'll have to use force and kick out." You forewarned.

He yelled as he got the blade out of his pocket and attempted to swing, but you ceased at mid-mark, crushing his wrist as he screamed," Don't provoke it further. I'll get messy." You stared into his eyes with the intent to knock his sorry ass out.

Until he knew what happened, you threw him across the entrance door as he ranged flying in the air. The audience gasped and mumbled, how the hell, did you do that?!

The other man went to whack you with his left hook, but you avoided it. He sent numerous punches as you kept dodging each one of them. As if you can glimpse the moves before he strikes them. In his last strike, you grabbed his arm and gave a couple hits of your own to the face and stomach as the gold braces put an indent into his body. He collapsed and puked up the liquor he had. " So, how was your trip to Punch city?" You asked as you walked around him.

" No-N-No way, I Ain- Urghh" He stopped mid-sentence as you kicked him in the face. " I'm sorry to say this..." You snarkily replied. As each blow went to finish him off. " You. Are. Already. Finished!" You grunted as you sent the final blow to his gut as he collapsed to the floor with bruises and blood on his body.

You looked around to see that before you intervened, they'd broken a couple of things before you came over here. You looked at the currently; unconscious man's gold watch and a couple of rings, one of them being a diamond ring. You grabbed the man's expensive watch from his wrist. And the rings on his fingers, "I'll consider this as payment for the repairs." You smiled as you told the guards to get him out of here. While the guards went to remove the man from the premises, you walked backward until you bumped into someone. " And here I thought you might need some help. looks like I'm not needed." He chuckled. You turned around to see who you were going to apologize to see the elevated muscular man who was littered with tattoos. Possibly from head to toe, He wore a black shirt that was buttoned up to his chest, showing more of his tattooed chest, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, and puffing out a cigarette from his mouth.

You scoffed, " As if I need any help from a stranger. Also, I live with a family of boys at home. I've never seen you around here before. You new?" You questioned.

He inhaled the cigarette from his lips and puffed a wave of smoke from his lips. " The name's Samuel, baby girl." He reached out his other hand to shake hers. " Y/n L/n."

You walked back to your bar with your brother, wrapping up his shift and yours. The people from the club began to head out of the building. " Should I tell gramps about getting repairs, or should you?" Your brother asked as you stood cleaning up the broken glass off the floor. " Nah, I'll do it."

As you were about to wrap things up, you grabbed your phone from out of your pocket, till a clattering noise echoed below you. You looked down to see a business card wrapped in a small sheet of paper. You quatted down to reach it and unwrapped the sheet of paper:

" Your grandfather told me that you were thinking about studying for business, so I requested him that you should work under me. I'll see you tomorrow."

Number: ****-*****-*****

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

A/n: Part 2 might come around in September of next weekend

#lookism #looksim x reader #lookism samuel #samuel seo #samuel seo lookism #samuel seo x reader #lookism fanfic #lookism x reader #Samuel Seo lookism x reader #lookism headcanons #lookism smut #samuel seo smut

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simpforchuchu · 2 years

Text

Baji x Draken's Lil Sis x Draken x Mikey

A/n: Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: gang stuffs, violence

A beautiful day wasn't supposed to end like that, was it? A scene like this when everything was going well...

You hated it. Today was your 1st anniversary with Keisuke. Even though your brother pretended not to know, you knew he did. But you still weren't ready to tell him. You couldn't have known Ken Ryuguji's reaction.

You were walking holding Kei's hand. Your floral blouse, denim shorts and colorful bracelets...

No matter how tough your brother was, you were his most precious and he would not neglect to buy you the bracelets you loved so much at every opportunity. He was someone who showed his love like this.

"It really upsets me to meet in secret with you babe. But it's also very reactionary to meet him. What am I going to do?" You laughed at what Kei said nervously. And you took his hand and turned him towards you. You stood on tiptoe to caress his face and smiled.

"Then let's tell him today. He already knows. I know that. I'm sure he'll laugh it off."

Kei laughed and shook his head. But right after, he suddenly let go of your hand, and you turned to him in surprise and looked at that hateful expression on his face. Then you looked where he was looking.

Dozens of gang members were right in front of you. You were not afraid of anyone, your brother raised you to protect myself. But what if something happened to Kei?

Kei quickly took you behind him and told you to run. When you said you wasn't going to run, he turned to you and smiled.

"Darling, I'll just make them look bad and come to you okay? Please go and hide now. Don't come out until you hear my voice, okay?"

You didn't even get a chance to shake your head. When someone suddenly wanted to hit Kei, he kicked him and knocked him down. And he turned to you and shouted.

"Stay back y/n!"

...

The fight was going on. You were watching them from a distance. But it was clear that they weren't playing fair.

"Keisuke!"

He cried out in anger as he grabbed his head and fell to his knees.

"Y/n! Run and don't look back! Don't show up until ı come for you! I beg you, go!"

You wanted to cry when you saw how helpless his voice was. But he wanted you to hide.he said he was coming to you. You quickly ran into one of the alleys and hid and looked for your brother. one, two and he answered

"Y/n, I have some business with Mikey right now-" "Nii-san, help me!"

Draken froze when he heard your cry. He dropped the key on the ground in fear.

"What's going on my angel? Y/n, are you okay?" You tried to speak by crying

"Nii-san... Keisuke... They blocked our way-" Draken raised his voice in fear.

"Where are you? Are you okay y/n? Where's baji?" It was so hard to talk through your hiccups

"He told me to hide, he said he's coming, but I'm afraid Nii-san. They attacked with sticks, Kei was injured."

Although Draken was somewhat relieved to hear that you was fine, the danger was still not over. "I'm coming my angel, calm down okay?"

...

After a while, you heard someone enter the street. When you peeked behind the container and saw that 2 people were dragging Baji and looking for you, you covered your mouth with your hand to avoid screaming.

"Y/n! Where are you? I won't hurt you so much if you listen now and be a good girl!"

You were trying so hard to keep your crying voice from being heard and you wanted to sob even more with that helpless voice you heard.

"Y/n! Don't go out, beautiful! I'm fine, don't worry!" And one more punch....

You had to do something, you had to save him, you had to stall.

You couldn't hide any longer, as you stepped out from behind the container in fear, Baji looked at you in fear.

"Y/n! Get out of here, now!" You smiled at him and walked towards the leader. After a few steps you stopped in front of the leader.

"Leave him alone."

Everyone was surprised by your cold voice. Your voice resembled your older brother. The boy across from you frowned and laughed out loud. "Why should I leave?" You smiled and nodded "You call yourself a man? He would have killed you all if you hadn't attacked him with sticks." The leader laughed and slapped you angrily. While Baji shouted in anger, you smiled and squeezed the piece of glass you hid in your hand.

You were waiting for the right move. When the leader wanted to hit you again, you caught his hand and with a sudden movement, you cut his face with the glass in your hand and kicked his stomach.

While everyone was staring at you in shock, others were coming towards you to stop you. At that moment, you heard the sound of an engine and you smiled at the familiar engine sound. Yes, it was the sound of your brother's engine.

As he got off the engine, he angrily turned to those around him. He was knocking everyone down.

When he saw that you was fine, he lifted the Baji from the ground and supported him. But there was something that neither of you expected.

The leader you just knocked down suddenly pulled you to him and wrapped his arm around your throat.

"Don't come near, Draken, or I'll break the princess's little neck." Baji was looking at you in fear, but your brother was quite calm. Within seconds, you heard a voice and there was no one holding you anymore. You coughed a little when your throat was released and looked back.

Mikey looked at you with a big smile and slowly came towards you. He hugged you as you tried to restrain your breathing and smiled.

"I'm glad you're okay y/n-chan!" You hugged him and you started crying. You were scared. You were scared for yourself and for Kei. Mikey stroked your hair and whispered in your ear.

"Is there anyone else you want to hug, y/n-chan?" You chuckled and you broke away from him and ran to Kei. He slipped out of Draken's grip and hugged you tightly and smiled when he saw you started to cry again.

"Okay, I'm fine... don't be afraid... we're both fine. Besides, they can't do anything to me, okay?" You smiled and looked at his face and chuckled "They can't do anything to me either, do you know my brother?" You both chuckled and looked at Draken as he shook his head with a laugh and called out to Baji.

"If you upset my sister, I will kill you, Baji!"

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onmyyan · 2 years

Text

Wingless

A/N: Not edited* sorry this took so long I kept rewriting it and I settled on this version I hope you enjoy!! It was a super fun request 🖤 I tried to stay true to the request but if there’s anything you dislike I can take another crack at it!! @pinkgoldweebgirl

Request: “Hey! I’m new in this request thing but can you make a fic where yandere batman falls for reader, but here’s the twist. The reader was a hashira (random demon slayer🤠) on her past life and still have those slayer skill-sates (even a katana!) so naturally she’s very very fast and also say really smart, now my request is a fic where batman tries to capture her! Sorry if it’s too weird and random, but I hope you will find this request entertaining.”

T/W: canon typical violence, Yandere themes, Gun violence(no one is shot but someone is threatened) blood

You’d never given much thought to your past lives, much too busy with the current one and the problems it offered, it only took being relentlessly persuaded by a man you had no hope of escaping for the thought to truly cross your mind. To tell this story right we have to go back a week, specifically back to the day you’d been unfortunate enough to get caught in the middle of a drug deal.

See every Gothamite knew the risks of traveling the grim city. If you were out in public there was a very real chance you wouldn’t make it home, and as dramatic as it sounded it was an easily accepted truth. You don’t ever really think about those kinds of things until you have to.

All you wanted was a bag of skittles and a little fresh air, the project you’d been working on all day had left your joints locked up and you feeling stuffy. Like most artists you pulled inspiration from within, specifically the vivid nightmares that had long since plagued you. Vicious man eating monsters with the most hauntingly beautiful abilities would haunt your nights, but they made great art pieces so you figured the bags under your eyes were a decent trade in for every commission you got, your boss had been riding you about your latest piece, saying the gory snapshot of an ancient battle wouldn’t sell.

The short walk to the small bodega across the street from your dingy apartment complex was a welcome reprieve from the stress of it all, it was a trip you’d made a thousand times, so you really weren’t expecting to stumble into such a shitshow.

The second you realized what you’d walked in on you spun around hoping to walk away without the two men noticing, the cold barrel of a gun was pressing flush against your neck put a stop to those plans.

From the frantic conversation you could pick up through your ever growing haze of fear, the gunman was paranoid, not willing to risk the deal going south, while the man he was selling to didn’t want your blood on his hands.

As horrifying as the situation was, you felt calm, eerily calm in fact. You’d never been so close to death, and yet your body knew what to do. As if muscle memory, you began to take deep, steadying breaths, despite the very real risk to your life, at ease you remained. It felt like you were waiting for something, a moment, what would happen in that moment you had no idea, you simply knew it was coming, and when it did you’d be ready. At the peak of their argument, the gunman pointed his weapon at the other man, his unoccupied hand held you against him by your throat.

With a surprising amount of grace you spun yourself out of his harsh grip, twisted the arm touching you out of socket and switched positions, now you had the gunman on his knees, kneeling in a cloudy puddle. It was like you were watching yourself move from a third person perspective, his armed hand was held by your own in an iron grip, pressing the deadly thing into the skin of his cheek, just as he’d done to yours. He tripped over his words, just as shocked as you were by the turn of events, the broken apologies fell on deaf ears, as your mind buzzed within your skull, attempting to process what had just taken place, and you were not the only one, the infamous guard of Gotham himself had witnessed the whole ordeal, he had watched, seconds away from intervening when you moved, now he’d seen people move fast, faster even, but there was something about how you moved, the practiced ease in which you flipped the scenario to your favor, that had his full attention. It reminded him of a bird- no a butterfly shooting off from a flower, with an unexpected, ever delicate, speed.

He made himself known, his ever imposing form blended seamlessly with the shadows, his hands raised high in an attempt to ease your shaking form. The second man tried to run at the sight of him, but a batarang to the back laid him out, leaving the remaining three of you in a tense stare down.

“I’m sorry for running late. I’m glad you’re okay, and I know you’re frightened but I’m here now, so I need you to give me the gun.”

Your trembling body seemed out of place considering it’s current position, in fact you seemed more terrified than the man crying out below you, now begging the Batman to save him, Bruce could laugh at the irony, instead he inched closer, moving ever so slowly until he was close enough to see the sheen of unshed tears in those pretty (e/c) eyes of yours. If he wasn’t on the job he’d be laying on the Wayne charm as thick as he could, but no, he had to meet you as The Bat.

So he gently pried the weapon from your smaller hands, and despite knowing better, in that moment all he wanted was to truly feel them, with no gloves in the way. He was once more pulled from his mind as the still kneeling man began to grovel. “Please man- I wasn’t gonna hurt her. She was about to shoot-“ Bruce gave a well placed kick to the side of the scumbag’s abdomen, sending him flying into the side of the stores garbage bin, right where he belonged in Bruce’s opinion. The man was out cold, and probably needed a hospital, but the only thing The Bat cared about right then was sweet little you, shaking like a baby deer, those big beautiful eyes of yours stared ahead, no doubt in shock from the situation.

With a practiced ease, the dark knight gently ushered you out of the dark alleyway. His large hand stayed planted in the small of your back, his towering figure made you feel safe on the short walk back home. He didn’t say much, beside asking for the occasional direction, he escorted you like a guard dog would, had you been less out of it, you would have questioned his actions of letting himself in, making sure you were secure in your bed before he silently left through your bedroom window, the long stare he’d given you went unnoticed in your dazed state, a stare that, had you caught, would have chilled you to the bone.

For you that was the end of it, sure you stopped going out at night but you were trying to move on for the most part. For Bruce it was the beginning of the end. He went home that night completely out of it, his thoughts raged like an angry sea, consuming him with wave after wave with thoughts of you. It took him mere minutes to find every bit of information the world had to offer. (Y/n) (L/n). You were a good citizen, payed your taxes on time, the occasional speeding ticket, nothing major stood out to him, which in an of itself pushed him further off the edge.

A good, honest person like yourself shouldn’t live in such a crime riddled area, but where could you go to truly be away from it all? He knew you’d never move out of that shithole on your own, as much as he enjoyed what art of yours he could find, with what your jackal of a boss payed you, moving somewhere safer wasn’t in the cards. Key word being wasn’t, because Bruce came to a few conclusions in his investigation.

1. You were one of the few people in Gotham that hadn’t been tainted by it’s filthy hands, but who knew how long that last? Well he did, and he didn’t like your odds.

2. You weren’t helpless. Not completely. He was witness to the power you had, however brief it was, and he just knew he was the one who’d bring out your full potential.

3. Based on the deep dive into your browser history, he knew exactly what you’d be looking for in a partner. Someone strong, who could care for you in ways you didn’t even know you wanted, someone who could truly provide while you created whatever you dreamt up in that sweet little mind of yours. He could do that, and more, easily.

He settled himself with these thoughts as plan after plan flashed through his mind. He wasn’t delusional, he knew you’d run if he came in too strong, so he settled on the slow and steady route. Well, slow by his standards anyway.

First he pushed Wayne Enterprises to buy the company you worked under, with a few well placed signatures he had your apartment complex as well, and that was just day one. By the end of the week he’d woven himself into every aspect of your life. You had yet to notice all his hard work but he wasn’t upset with you. No, he knew you’d have shown your appreciation if you were in on it all.

Meanwhile you’d been having even more intense dreams, the flashes became moments, and those moments played out like a movie, it all felt so real, the blood on your face, the weight of the blade in your hand, the woman that kept showing up in these dreams made more appearances than ever. Her dark eyes held such care for you, it often made you feel this haunting melancholy, like you were looking at a some long lost friend. You were in the studio today, your boss had sent a confusing email earlier that had something to do with new company policies requiring more in-house work, hence your slightly uncomfortable self now painting in the otherwise empty building. The pale woman was adorned in a beautiful, white, insect patterned haori. The outline was mostly done, you were so focused on getting her eyes right you completely missed the entrance of your new corporate overlord.

“Late night Ms.(L/n)? It shows how much you care about your work, how much passion you have for it.” The deep voice spoke yanking your from your thoughts, you jumped in place, dragging a long line of purple across her face. A quick burst of emotions flew through you from fear to anger, completely bypassing the confusion at his sudden appearance.

“It’s gonna be even later now- sneaking up on someone is a real dick move.” You rubbed a paint covered thumb against your temple, now turning to meet the jerk, only for your face to fall.

Because of course you just said that to Bruce fuckin’ Wayne. He quickly dismissed the horror on your face by giving you his most sincere look. “I’m so incredibly sorry. I’ve been a fan of your work for a while now- when I read your name on the employee roster I couldn’t help myself.” His velvet like voice paired with that criminally fine face had you thinking some inappropriate work place thoughts, and he was a fan?! With a cough you pulled your mind from the gutter to take his outstretched hand, quickly pulling away when you realized how dirty your own were, at least you tried to pull away, but his larger, warmer hands held firm, he never broke eye contact as he spoke. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive such a bumbling fool. I got a little too excited earlier.” Heat crawled up your neck, mind running a mile a minute as you processed all he threw at you. He brought your paint dried hands to his lips to press a searing kiss to the back of them.

“It’s all good aha! Paint can always come off! That’s what my gram used to tell me when I drew on the walls-I don’t know why I just told you that uh- sorry I’m (Y/n)- well you knew that but- Hi. Good to meet you Mr. Wayne. Officially that is.” His smirk seemed to deepen, his eyes drank you in, a dangerous glint had you take half a step back, but in a second it was gone, as if it never happened. He was setting off alarm after alarm in your mind, but he also had this inexplicable magnetism to him, so strong it kept you from making some halfhearted excuse to book it to your car. Before you could come up with a non rude way to ask why he was here so late he answered, as if reading your mind.

“I’m glad I caught you here on my way out. I was just thinking my foyer needed a new piece, something raw, real, maybe a little dark. Would you be interested in coming by to see the space? You’d be compensated for the visit, even if you decide not to do it. No pressure.” He spoke smoothly, like a true businessman, he took small steps around both you and the messy art space, like a shark circling its prey.

You swallowed thickly, mind racing at the opportunity, you knew this could make or break your career, and as he’d very publicly bought this company you knew he couldn’t do anything to you that wouldn’t be noticed. His eyes looked so dark under the studio lights, the blue almost invisible with how blown his irises were. “Of course I’ll try to make it but my butler Alfred will probably be the one with you while you’re working.” He said once more reading your body language, the assurance of another person made your shoulders drop, he bit back a grin, knowing he had you in the palm of his hand.

The man before you had made you feel a lot of things, in the short time he’d been in your presence, but the good outweighed the bad and feeling the pressure to respond then and there you gave a breathless “Yes.”

And the deal was done. Only you had no idea this would be a one way trip.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere dc imagine #requested #yandere batman x reader #yandere bruce wayne x reader #Yandere dc #yandere dc x reader #yandere batman

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goodstories08 · 2 years

Text

Boy Bi

Johnny Cade X Male Reader

Request: No

Description: Y/n was Bobs younger sibling, which didn’t mean much beside that they were rich. The two of them never really talked much and didn’t have the best relationship. Johnny Cade however couldn’t resist the urge to ask the younger boy out, even if he was struggling with his sexuality. He always liked girls but now he had a thing for guys too. Y/n was intimidating cause he was a soc and the brother of Bob out of all people, but one day the two stumbled upon each other and fell in love.

“Dam what a catch,” Dally hummed as a skinny blonde girl walked by. Johnny looked to her discretely, not wanting to be couch by starting. He thought she was attractive but nothing too special, “Yea I guess she is.”

Johnny looked to his shoes and kicked a pebble across the sidewalk. As he lifted his head he noticed a bright blue mustang driving down the street, he also noticed Y/n, Bobs younger brother. His smile warmed Johnny, a bright red color creeped up Johnny’s tan face. Y/n was looking out of the window scanning the streets till he saw Johnny. Y/n waved causing Johnny to feel butterflies erupt in his stomach. He nervously waved back before catching up to Dally.

“You got it bad don’t ya Johnnycake?,” Dally mumbles while sticking a cigarette in his mouth. He flicked open the cap to his lighter as Johnny’s eyes grew wide. “W-what do you mean?!” Dally laughed a bit as he shoved the lighter back in he’s Jean jacket, “I haven’t seen your face that red since the time we saw those girls at the drive in the theater.” Johnny looked down and sighed, the truth is he didn’t understand why he blushed at Y/n’s smile, or crave his attention. He wanted to be with Y/n, in a way that was more than friends. He wants to be able to protect and hold the smaller male in his arms, and tell him he loves him.

“It’s alright you’ll figure it out bud,” Dally said as the light signaled for them to cross the busy street. “Y-yea I guess,” he mumbled while laying his hands in his signature dark denim jean jacket.

———————————————————————

Johnny lay on the jungle gym staring up at the stars, humming a song. Dally had a party at Bucks and Ponyboy had to be home before his curfew otherwise Darry will kill him so he was there alone.

He had his arms under his head as he watched the white specks in the sky twinkle, forming shapes and patters. He jumped a bit when he saw a dark figure walking toward the playground. There was a low crying noise escaping from the shadows mouth as it came closer to the timid greaser. As it came into the light Johnny was immediately relieved. It was Y/n, the shorter boy didn’t notice Johnny and just fell against the metal jungle gym.

He sobbed as he pulled his knees to his chest, tears dripping down his beautiful face. “H-hey are you ok?” Johnny piped up causing Y/n stumble toward, “W-WHAT! Oh wait it’s just you. Johnny right?”

He nodded and looked down to the boy, “Why are you crying?” Y/n looked back down to the grass and felt himself choking up on his words, “M-my brother Bob, he came home drunk and was angry with our parents a-and well he took his anger out on me.” Y/n turned his head to reveal the bruise on his left cheek. Johnny felt himself getting angry but he couldn’t understand why.

“It’s ok,” Johnny comfortingly said while slipping down the jungle gym to lean against it beside Y/n. The shorter male leaped forward into Johnny’s arms, both were blushing messes but Johnny held him to try and calm him. Y/n felt so comfortable in the moment, Johnny’s scent, it was intoxicating. It smelled of hairspray, cigarettes, and cheep cologne but somehow it made the hug more calming.

“Thanks Johnny,” Y/n said as his lip quivered a bit. Johnny looked to his jacket and began to take it off since he wasn’t too cold. He pulled it over Y/n, who tried to protest, “No Johnny It’s ok, I’m fine.”

“No your literally shaking, I insist,” Johnny said, the younger male sighed and let him wrap the jean jacket around his shoulders. The two sat and looked to the stars, staring into the sky as shooting stars started to pass. “Make a wish Y/n,” he said while looking to the other boy. Y/n closed his eyes as a single tear escaped, “Done.

As time passed tiredness slowly came over the two. Johnny looked around the empty park, happier than ever for the others presents. He felt the butterflies there but they were nice, he widened his eyes when he felt a bump on his shoulder. He looked down to his left shoulder and smiled as he watched the smaller boy make himself comfortable. He fell into a deep sleep, Johnny was too scared to move so he just held the boy in his arms. It felt so right in the moment, Johnny smiled and soon fell asleep as well. The two were wrapped around each other, oblivious to the challenges they would face as a couple.

#johnny cade #x male reader #the outsiders #gay #lgbtq

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shallyne · 2 years

Text

Dancing in the Moonlight

Had this idea last night after I posted my first one shot. Two in one day after I said I won't post anymore? Wow! Same thing as the last two times tho: don't be mean. Thanks!

TW: none, pure fluff

After a nice date Feyre and Rhys are strolling through Velaris and they end up in the Rainbow, where Rhys asks Feyre to dance.

For the first time in what felt like forever they finally had a quiet evening for themselves. Rhys decided that he wanted to take Feyre to a little restaurant along the Sidra. It was a beautiful, warm evening and the dinner was great. After dinner they decided to take a walk along the Sidra, just enjoying the silence for once. Feyre usually loved having a full house, full of laughter and little squabbles between the family but the last months got so hectic that Rhys and Feyre more often than not just fell into bed and slept. Exhausted. Feyre had her usual High Lady duties, plus her art studio. Rhys had his High Lord duties he had to attend and he often traveled to the illyrian mountains to oversee the training for the females along with Cassian. They both visited other courts to stabilize relations. On top of that Feyre and Rhys are training everyday on the House of Wind again. She needed that, that was definitely not something she wouldn't compromise. It's a great bonus that she can spend time with Cassian in that time, which isn't something she can do that often these days due to their busy schedules.

Feyre and Rhys turned around a corner, into the rainbow. A light summer breeze ruffled Feyres hair and tugged on the skirt of her knee length, light blue dress. The back was low-cut so the tattoo of her bargain with Bryaxis was fully visible. It was a light dress, perfect for a hot summer day. Rhys wore his usual black clothes, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, showing his strong, tanned forearms. How he didn't sweat was beyond Feyre.

Rhys turned his head to Feyre, took her hand and smiled. "Are you alright?"

Feyre chuckled. "Yes I am alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You got so quiet in the last few minutes and your mental shields are up. I don't have a clue what's going on in that pretty head of yours, Feyre darling."

"I was just thinking how nice it is to finally spend a quiet evening with my mate." Rhys smiled. "and then you began talking." Feyre added, laughing. Rhys chuckled, pinching her in the side. She patted his hands away. "Why? Do you want more action? I can push you in the fountain over there."

Rhys laughed, putting his arms around Feyre. "Maybe another time." he answered.

They continued to walk together in silence. Comfortable silence. The Rainbow was still full at this time. Rhys didn't lie when Feyre first came to Velaris, many people slept through the day to enjoy the beautiful nights. Feyres steps slowed when they walked by a musician. A beautiful green skinned woman, wearing a light brown dress. She played a beautiful song. So beautiful that Feyre didn't even realized that she fully stopped and watched her. She didn't realize until Rhys said "Dance with me."

Feyre whirled around to face her mate. "What?"

His grin grew wider. "Dance with me, my love."

She let out a nervous laugh. "Here?" In the middle of the rainbow?

He just nodded and reached out to take her hand. After a second of contemplating, she took it. "I hope you don't mind me stepping on your toes." Feyre said, looking around her. Nobody else seemed to mind that they were about to dance in the middle of the street. Rhys's voice grew softer. "You can step on my toes as much as you want, just focus on me."

Feyre turned her head back to Rhys and smiled. She smiled wide as she said "Alright." and as they began moving, she did. She only focused on Rhys. His eyes were so bright, he seemed so happy. "I am, Feyre. I am so happy to be here, with you. I am so happy that I have you and that we can share this moment." Feyre felt her eyes burning. Rhys was right. So she let go, she didn't care if she took a clumsy step here and there, she just enjoyed this carefree moment with Rhys. The only ones watching were the stars and the moon. They laughed, Rhys twirling her in the moonlight.

Feyre send a prayer up to the stars that night. Praying for many many more nights like this.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #Acotar fanfic #feysand fanfiction #Feysand fanfic #Feysand fic #Acotar fic #Acotar one shot #Feysand one shot #Feysand #Feysand fluff #feyre archeron #feyre #feyre cursebreaker #rhysand #rhys #high lady of the night court #high lord of the night court

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artdecosupernova-writing · 10 months

Text

Small Stories Hour: Ballad of Kid Corduroy

Dainty Delinquent

↳ The small fire outside of camp popped and crackled, providing warmth and light. Russell cast his gaze from that fire to the wagons and the tents, among which the rest of the Family began, one by one, to retire. Jack and EJ disappeared into a tent together, Akaya and Noya settled down in a lean-to, and eventually Works cranked up the sound emulator for Cady and rested at the edge of her bedroll in his own lean-to until she drifted off.

Russell caught Works' eye across the camp. Works quietly shrugged and offered him a small smile. Russell returned the shrug but didn't smile back.

He lost himself in the fire again, still shaken from having seen who he'd thought quite deeply was Phil Foster roaming the streets of the last town they'd passed through. His body had begun to hurt again, all of his muscles and joints, inflamed anew as if he'd just endured everything all over again. The fire helped his knees somewhat, though each time he closed his eyes he could see Foster's nasty, grinning face, his sharp upturned nose and greasy black hair.

"May I?"

Russell startled out of his thoughts and peered up at Works approaching and motioning to a spot beside him. "Uh…oh, sure. Yeah, go ahead." He ran a hand down his face and sighed. "Thought you'd be tired, though."

Works sank down onto the ground and folded his legs beneath himself. "I'm very tired. I feel as if I've constantly been doing something without proper rest for the last three days."

"I think you were. Your nose'd been buried so far into that notebook of yours I was sure we were gonna lose you at some point."

Works produced the block of wood and knife he always had with him in case he couldn't keep his hands or mind busy. He was halfway done with what appeared to be a small carving of a bear, reaching its blocky paws out from a wall of aspen he'd yet to pare away. "Have I ever told you the story of how I was briefly arrested for public indecency?"

Russell blinked hard at his carving, watching for several silent seconds the blade of the knife slicing through the wood. The back of his neck started to sweat. "…What the hell did you just say?"

"It was a misunderstanding," Works said. "This was in Texas, some time after I'd escaped from that gang of criminals that held me hostage against the local sheriff."

"They'd shot you," Russell remembered, alarmed.

Works nodded. "I was a week or so healed. It took a long while, but that's not the point." He waved away the memory. "I hadn't acquired a horse yet and I was wandering around, trying to find a stable or someone who would be willing to sell a horse to me. I'd two dollars to my name, so that was unlikely to begin with, therefore I'd planned on spending it on clothes I sorely needed in any case as the ones I'd had on me were falling apart at the seams."

Russell narrowed his eyes under the brim of his hat. "…I see where this is goin'."

"Oh, I don't think you do." Works glanced at him. "I made it to a very small livestock town. Imagine my luck and excitement—surely someone there desperate enough could sell me a horse and clothes in one fell swoop, or at least help me accomplish this elsewhere. If I had to work to pay it all off, I was prepared to do that.

"Coming into town I met a young lady who offered to sell me some clothes for a third of my money as long as I could give her the frayed and dirty clothes I'd been wearing."

"What?" Russell blurted. "Who agrees to a deal like that?"

"A man who's still somewhat delirious from exhaustion and hunger," Works replied. "I followed her into a hotel. She showed me the clothes…they were beautiful. Expensive and luxurious. Nicer than anything I'd ever worn in my life up to that moment. My eyes were starry and I hurried to give her my clothes.

"She took them and the nice clothes and ran. By the time I'd realized she was gone, she was halfway across the street." He paused, staring into the fire, a grin threatening to break through. "…I ran after her, almost entirely nude save for the bedsheet I somehow thought to tie around my waist, and hollering and cursing and scaring the locals. I caught up to her behind a house and tried to fight her for my clothes."

"An' you bein' nearly naked is what made the law go after you?"

Works laughed. "Actually! Um..." He used the handle of his knife to scratch an itch on the side of his head. "Actually…when the law caught up, she and I were…becoming acquainted. In a nearby shed."

Russell let out an unexpected bark of laughter he had to stifle with the back of his hand so he didn't disturb anyone else. "McCoy!"

"She was delightful and I was exhilarated. I regret nothing besides the location." Works flipped the carving in one hand. "We were both arrested but the sister of the young woman posted my bail the following morning, explaining that her scams were not a new occurrence. I was fed and clothed for free, and the sister sold me Spotted Oakley for my two dollars."

"Gol-ly!" Russell whispered, removing his hat to swipe the perspiration from his brow. "I'd no idea you'd be such a true delinquent, Works."

"Is that not normal?" Works teased.

They spent the next two hours talking and laughing, admiring the sounds of nature, and when Russell awoke on his bedroll when the sun began to creep up, he felt lighter. The air smelled crisp and his heart felt full.

He caught sight of Works in his lean-to, flipping through his notebook, and he lifted his head when Russell propped himself up on his elbow. They met eyes.

Works smiled at him. Russell gave him a small, shy wave, something in his chest warming at the sight. He smiled back.

#small stories hour #Ballad of Kid Corduroy #TAtK #pair: High Rise Cowboy

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marctheshark9 · 2 years

Text

Rain showers bring flowers. January, February, March and April, were tough. May and June were filled with highs and lows, but growth isn’t all smiles and rainbows. There’s pain and suffering. They’re accompanied by loneliness and constant worry. You are not alone, God is with you. Seek him and he will guide you through the showers and to your flowers.

I started writing this on May 10th. I thought I was going to be done by June 1st, but my laptop charger broke. I couldn’t work like I wanted to. My deadline is July 1st. Yesterday was hella busy so I’m dropping right now on July 2nd.

Plans change, but my goals remain the same. I want wealth, health, and security in all aspects. Freedom is what I’m after. I will have complete control of my schedule. I will go on vacation when I want. I will be able to go to all my son’s events and everywhere else I’m invited. I’ve missed out on so many weddings, birthday trips and other things cause my pockets were tight. I will have complete financial freedom in the next few years. I’ll be able to afford everything I want and need.

People grow together and grow apart. Last year at this time my relationship was about to start. We had no idea what was about to happen. It almost came to an end, but we’re working and growing together. Also, we’re growing separately to become the best versions of ourselves.

Things were rough at the top of the year. Now things are looking swell. I got a new job and a new car. On top of all that my son lives with me full-time. These are the flowers I was speaking of and they’re beautiful. I prayed for all these things for over a year. I spent countless nights with negative emotions. Dark thoughts crossed my mind, but God’s timing is perfect. Every time I thought I couldn’t make it God came through in the clutch.

In early January I got my cyst removed. This isn’t the first time I’ve had the procedure done. It was the first time I got it done like this. They numbed my head, but it was still painful. It wasn’t unbearable, but I felt the pressure of the doctor pushing and pulling inside of my head. It was gruesome. Blood dripped down my forehead and on to my California fishing shirt. I remember looking to the left and seeing a large pile of bloody napkins. I had to wear the head bandage for a couple days and I was out of work for 2 weeks.

I bounced back strong, but I wasn’t prepared for this next hurdle. In late January my Uncle Leroy died. My maternal grandfather died in late October. I’m still recovering from that. People who really know me know how much they meant to meant to me. I’m holding tears back and I have chills as I type. Those were my guys. My two multiple sclerosis warriors are gone. Losing them back to back has been indescribable. I have both of their obituaries in my car. I take them with me everywhere I go.

These two are the main reason that I’m such a health nut. My maternal grandfather and my paternal uncle both had multiple sclerosis. I watched them suffer for most of my life. I was 9 years old when I started to help take care of my grandpa. I’ve fed him, changed his diaper, taken him to the doctor and everything in between. It was gross as fuck at times, but If I could have one more chance to do anything with him, I would take full advantage of it.

On the other side Uncle Leroy was only 48 years old when he passed. He’s been sick since he was in his mid 20s. He was the cool uncle that lived out of town. My family oozed a contagious joy when Big L came down from New York.

My mom always spoke highly of Leroy. She said he was always nice and respectful. She and a lot of my relatives say I reminded them of Leroy because he wasn’t in the streets or a tough guy. The Betancourt boys we’re always involved in some foolishness, but Leroy was never that type of guy.

Leroy was a twin. On the night he passed his twin brother Leon screamed at the top of his lungs, “Why God? He was the good one you should’ve taken me. “He fell to his knees right in front of me. I was sitting on the couch and I couldn’t do anything but cry. My dad has four brothers and two sisters. The family tree lost a branch. Things will never be the same.

Burying my uncle was one of the hardest things I had to do. I had to pull myself together and help lead the family. That night I walked up to dad and said “You’re the captain now. Grandma and Grandpa are down bad and they have to process this. You have to steer the ship. These next few days are going to be tough, but I got your back.”

The next week was spent planning a funeral. I didn’t think I would be adding this to my resume so soon but it happened. I knew in my early 20s that I would have to step up and be one of the patriarchs of my family. I didn’t know exactly how it would happen, but I knew I would step up when the time was right.

The next few weeks we’re tough but I made it through. I had to stay strong for my son. He’s seen so much death for an 8-year-old. In late May I was taking him to school and he broke down crying. He told me that he was thinking about all the relatives he lost over the past few years.

I fought depression daily, but things we’re moving in the right direction. Then some more wild ass shit happened. In early March, I was playing kickball with my high school students. As I rounded second base I fell. My ankle was little stiff, but I got up and walked it off. An hour later I was in Walmart with one shoe on because my ankle swelled up. It looked like I had a grapefruit in my sock. I couldn’t put any weight on my ankle and I was on crutches for a week. The pain was throbbing and it felt like my ankle weighed 1,000 pounds. I was thinking take my whole ankle away. I don’t even want it anymore. I was in so much pain. I would’ve let somebody cut it off.

I tried to go to work at Nike the next day, but they sent me home. I’ve never broken a bone or had any serious injuries. I had neck surgery before, but never any injuries that limited my mobility. I was down bad. I didn’t do any fitness related activities for two weeks. I didn’t do any weighted exercises with my legs for like a month. The injury sucked but it made me realize that I’m getting older.

Once I healed, I had a great opportunity to show my bounce back. I started coaching track in January. Life was throwing hurdles at me. I jumped each one and still made time for the kids. Sometimes at the track meets they have coaches’ races. I competed in a few and did very well. Now the team expects me to run at every meet. At a track meet in March I smoked the competition. Our head coach told me that he was going to enter me in the open 100m with some real competition.

I started practicing with the team to prepare for the race. I saw the qualifying times. Dudes we’re running under 11 seconds. I think I could break 11 seconds with proper training. I was doing pretty well with my training until I pulled my hamstring. When I pulled it, I thought I was going to collapse. My legs were trembling and my head started spinning.

I thought to myself damn Marc you’re old. I just recovered from sprained ankle, now I pulled a hamstring. Everyone told me I needed to slow down a little bit. I don’t think so. I just have so stretch more and train smarter if I’m going to compete. I turn 30 in late July. I figure I have 5 more years of prime Marc if I train hard and stay fit. That way when I start declining, I will be in peak physical form. Then I can just maintain it from there.

After a couple weeks I began to work on legs again. I was doing pushups and upper body work because of the injury. I’ve already missed a month of fitness because of my cyst and my ankle. I couldn’t afford to miss any more time. The gym is one of my happy places. I find so much peace in there and when I’m playing competitive sports. Once I have a better grip on my schedule I’ll began playing again. I’ll start by hooping and see what else my schedule permits.

Speaking on scheduling my son moving here completely changed my schedule. Plus, I got a new job and I quit working at the school. Also, I quit working at Nike in late June. I was planning on staying for 5 years and getting my lifetime discount, but it wasn’t in the cards. I might be able to go back and finish out but we will see what happens.

Anyways on to the new job. I applied for this job in January. I interviewed in late February and was offered the job three days later. They told me the process would take a couple weeks. They just had to get some contracts finalized and they would bring me on. I waited patiently, but weeks began to pass. Eventually a month passed. I was uneasy and I had no idea what to do. I called and emailed to the point where one of the owners got spicy with me via email. I felt some kind of way, but I didn’t care I needed this job. One month turned into two months and still no start date in sight. I finally got the green light in late April.

My start date was May 2nd. I was ecstatic, but I had other things on my mind. Before I started my new job my mom Lil Marc and I traveled to Boston for Carlos’s heart transplant anniversary party. In 2020 my 6-year-old nephew Sean died in a car accident. After he passed his parents decided to donate his organs. Seanie was able to save six lives. One of those lives was a little boy named Carlos. Carlos’s family got in touch with my family via Facebook.

A year after Carlos got his new heart, he and his family came down to Orlando to hang out with us for the day. We had a BBQ/pool party. It was a grand time. This year Carlos’s family wanted us to come up and hang out in Boston for a celebration. We went but my emotions were heavy. My nephew’s death is a messy situation that still hasn’t been resolved, but that’s a different story. My brother and his baby mama are at odds and he wasn’t able to go. I didn’t want to go for various reasons, but I couldn’t let my mom and son navigate that terrain alone.

I was in Boston with my favorite people, but I was surrounded by fake people and strangers. I kept thinking to myself, why am I here? How did I get here? None of my direct decisions bought me to this point, but I had to bare the weight. Like I said earlier I knew I would have to be the patriarch of my family and here’s a concrete example. I was angry when I was in Boston, but I was excited to travel and see a new city. I did make the most of it. I didn’t want to be there under those circumstances. Being around people who I didn’t like made it even worse, but I saw the bigger picture. Lil Marc really loves Carlos and even though Sean is gone it felt good to see Carlos’s family happy.

The trip was cool, but things got interesting right before I left Boston. I got to the airport at 4:15 a.m. to check in for my 6 a.m. flight. I was at the kiosk entering my information and it said my flight was canceled. I put my info in like 3 more times to see if I was tripping, I was not! I tried to switch flights but I was unable to because I fly on standby. I had to call my dad and have him put me on another flight. After about 30 minutes he was able to get me on a 7:15 flight to Washington D.C. I would have to wait there till about 4 and catch another flight to Orlando.

When I finally boarded the plane, I was exhausted. I put on my seat belt and fell asleep. When I woke up then plane was completely empty. The flight attendants had to wake me up. I thought it was all a dream, until I looked at my boarding pass and it said Ronald Regan Airport not Orlando International.

As I walked down the aisle, I wondered what the hell am I going to do in DC for 5 hours. I pondered on this as I walked to baggage claim. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but when I got to baggage claim everyone was gone. My bag sat all alone, waiting to roll off with me. I called my dad and let him know I made it. It was 9 a.m. and my flight didn’t leave until 4:30. I had a lot of time to kill.

After I got out my feelings I went through my Rolodex and looked for my D.C. contacts. The first person that came to mind was my guy Nolan. If you don’t know Nolan, he’s low key famous. My boy covers congress for the Los Angeles Times. The night before he scooped me, he attended a White House Gala with some important people. He said he saw Kim Kardashian and was able to get pictures with Emmitt Smith and Adam Silver. I shot him a DM on Instagram and he messaged me back and said he would be at the airport in 20 minutes.

We went back to his spot caught up and played the PS5 a for a little bit. We made reservations for brunch. The only down side was that all the lit brunch spots were booked. We went to a Mexican restaurant and had some breakfast tacos. They were pretty fire. The whole situation was ass, but I’m glad I have good friends. Nolan said he was just returning the favor. He did come hang with me in Orlando earlier this year.

When I finally got on the plane, it was just like the morning plane ride. I fell asleep before the plane took off. I did wake up right before we landed this time. When I touched down, I had moves to make. I had to get ready for my first day of work and little Marc had school. Marc flew back with my mom, so I had to go get him when I got back.

Once I got back home, I began preparation for the big day. I picked out my clothes, packed a lunch and went to bed early. My lady took Marc to school for my first day. I was able to get there 15 minutes early. The new job is pretty cool.

The company I work for is called Global-5 Communications. We do public relations for the Florida Department of Transportation. My two months of work have been awesome according to my supervisor Gabe. My title is Public Relations Community Outreach Specialist.

My duties include finding events for us to spread information about what the Department of Transportation is doing in community. Also, we maintain their website and handle most of the interactions with the public. It’s your standard office jobs with major perks. I get out of the office at least two days a week to network or do outreach. Our main goal is to let the public know about what’s going on with the roadways. I am on the Interstate 4 (I4) express team. We do business with most of the major roadways in Florida.

This job is going to be my stepping stone into another major gig. My goal is to start doing PR for a musician or for a major sports team. I am a sponge at my job. I take advantage of every opportunity to network and grow as person and as a professional. Also, I started doing PR for a local artist stay tuned.

Remember when my hammy gave out? My car died that same week. The transmission on the Pontiac went out sometime in late March. I been having car issues since 2016. I think I’ve had 5 cars since 2017. I drove my grandpa’s van until I got a new car in early May.

It’s a 2014 Chevy Cruz nothing crazy, but it’s pretty reliable. Except for when the battery started acting stupid. I bought the car on a Monday and I was having issues with it on Saturday, five days later. I was livid! On that Saturday I had my first event for my new job. I set us up at a car show. On top of all this my son and I had a track meet to attend. His mom came to the meet as well.

I had a mini panic attack, but I had no time to sulk. I had to come up with solutions. Coach Richie came and scooped Marc. I had Triple A come and give me a jump so I could get where I needed to be. The event was cool. We just posted up at the table and informed the public about what’s going on with the major roadways in Central Florida.

After the event I was able to get a jump start and get back home. The next day Triple A came to my house and I bought a new battery from the tow truck driver. He installed it in the driveway. I was tight, but I was able to get the situation handled. I didn’t want to spend that money, but I had it so it had to be done. My grandpa’s van had broken down the weekend before and I spent $400 fixing that. The worse part about that was I was at a car dealership looking at cars.

Again, I was tight about spending that money, but at least I had a few dollars saved up for emergencies. Other than that, I been getting ready for football season. I’m going into my second year of coaching for the Orlando Outlaws.

This is our REPO season. We lost last year in the state championship game and we’re coming back with a vengeance. We bringing the smoke next year to. The team we lost to lost a lot of their kids because of age. We lost a few kids as well.

Tough times don’t last tough people do. Last year at this time I was depressed broke and I hated almost everything going on around me. The only positives I had was my son living with at the time, but I was stressful cause I didn’t have a car and I was broke.

My girl and I were getting closer but we didn’t know that casual sex would turn into a full-blown relationship. Also, it was my first-year coaching youth football. Look at how much things can change in a year. I didn’t know how it was going to happen, but I knew great things were coming. It all happened so fast.

My life went through some major wholesale changes in sense March. I’m now a full-time dad, I got a new job, new car, I quit two jobs. So much change mostly good, a little bad, but I’m here for the growth. I’m completely out of my comfort zone, but that’s where the growth is. I only have one source of income right now. It’s cool cause I’m going to turn it into three by September.

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dabisqueen · 2 years

Text

fifty shades of pt.2

Dabi x fem!Reader

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, smut, AU in which Touya is scarless, workplace harassment and attempted rape, reader gets hurt, alcohol consumption, mentions of killing people, mentions of blood, implied torture, lots of kissing and fluff, reader is a virgin, loss of virginity, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie

⇢ word count: roughly 7.3K

⇢ plot: still being bullied by your boss, the stranger finally steps between the two of you one night. When he asks you to tag along, you're in for the surprise of your life, being totally clueless about his real identity.

⇢ personal note: A continuation of Pt. 1 - this took just way too much time but it’s my baby. I love writing for Touya. I almost couldn’t stop, this was just too soft.

Retroactively added to Em's Yakuza Collab

Pt.1

You weren't sure how long you had been asleep. You tried moving but your numb limbs wouldn't really respond to your will. Moaning, you gave yourself a bit more time to adjust.

Trying to open up your drowsy eyes you instantly regretted it – the daylight burst like daggers into your head, spinning and drumming against your skull like a Taiko. You fell back into cushions, waiting for the pain in your head to dull out.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and let them adjust to the unfamiliar sight, your hands sliding over the soft silken sheets on your skin and an unfamiliar scent floated your nostrils – aftershave and leather.

Instantly awake, you jolted up. You laid in a king-size bed. Black silky sheets covered your body and wide open bay windows let in the soft white-gold light of the morning, the hues of the bedroom moving from warm yellow to silver. The early morning fog was still lingering outside, dipping everything in a cottony haze.

A bad foreboding gripped you tightly, made your throat constrict and with shaking hands, you gently dipped underneath your underwear between your thighs. Holding up that hand to your nose, you relaxed, all tension flooding from you – you only smelled your own sweet scent.

Looking around the room, you saw your clothes neatly stacked with your bag on an expensive-looking, auburn leather lounger across from you.

You shakily swung your legs over the edge of the bed, careful to give yourself time to adjust to the change of position.

Slowly staggering over to the chair, you silently got dressed, clutched your bag tight and left towards the door. You opened it and peeked your head out.

Too hurried to take in your surroundings, you started tiptoeing across the vast room and stopped when you heard muffled voices through a cracked door to the right.

You recognized the voice. It was the raven-haired man, speaking quietly into his cell phone. You could only make out the occasional words and it seemed to be business talk.

Silently crossing the rest of the room and skitting through the hallway, you slipped out the double-winged entry door. Stepping into your shoes, you exited the building, not once looking back.

You couldn't really explain why you left so hastily, but waking up in some stranger's bed with no memory of the previous night was never a good sign. The property was guarded by a huge concrete wall and an enormous metal door swung open as you approached it, allowing you to exit.

You ran down the street, past high-end apartments, well-kept sidewalks and greenery until exhaustion took over and you stopped, hands bracing on your knees as you bent over, trying to catch your breath.

It promised to be a beautiful day, the fog had been lifted and sunshine warmed your hair and face.

Continuing down the street, the thought of last night's occurrences spun in your head on permanent repeat. The only thing you remembered was running away down the street after that man had offered you a dubious ride. Whichever scenario came to your mind, none made sense and soon you abandoned the memory in favor of focusing on getting home.

Wandering off in one direction, you soon came to a train station and entered the subway. It was a long ride, halfway through it you had already forgotten the name of the station you hopped on.

Your limbs were sore and your stomach in twists of hunger as you finally arrived home, a huge weight lifted off you. Exhausted, you prepared some onigiri with the last rice and canned tuna you found in your almost empty cupboards. Spending the rest of the day cleaning your small apartment and getting your things ready for the night shift, your mind kept wandering again to the incidents of the last night.

You had so many questions, yet such few answers. Sighing with frustration, you raked your fingers through your hair, got dressed and ready for work.

The next two work nights happened without further incidents. Your boss left you mostly alone and the customers behaved as well. And the stranger didn't appear either.

The third night started off as usual. It was a Saturday and you prepared for some of your regulars who would be joining that night.

One of them had always been a thorn in your eyes. He was fat, bulbous lips kept licking themselves whenever you neared. He'd try to grope you while you're close and made fun of you afterward. Worst of all, he was in good standing with your boss, Kai Chisaki.

This night wasn't any different, as he sat down in one of the private booths surrounded by heavy velvety curtains. After having ordered the third round of Legacy rum, you noticed the red flush of his cheeks and the glossiness of his eyes as they drifted around the room, his lazy gaze floating towards you.

You approached with the fourth glass of amber liquid and were about to place it in front of him when his hand shot up to wrap around your wrist and pull you towards him.

You squealed, toppling over, and spilled the drink across the table. An exaggerated grin spread across his face as he pressed you to his chubby chest, his thick lips closing in on you. Both hands were now on your body, one hand dipping under your skirt, sinking into your panties, while he giggled maniacally.

You squirmed in his tight hold, screaming as his hot spit-slick lips caught the corner of your mouth, and managed to hit him in his face. He screeched out in pain, holding his nose, a small trickle of blood visible between his fingers.

"You bitch," he angrily yelled and kicked you off him, hitting your back hard against the table before slumping to the floor. One hand bracing on the counter, you managed to get up, legs shaking, a sharp pain cutting through your side as the curtain was ripped open and Chisaki stormed inside.

"That whore broke my nose" the fat guy yelled at your boss, blood smeared across his face.

Chisaki just stood there, golden eyes a feral expression in them.

Having had enough you sniffled, defending yourself, "He groped and tried kissing me!"

There was a pause before Chisaki coldly rasped, "Our clients' wishes always have priority."

"But Mr. Chisaki," you pointed your fingers at the client, "He was gonna rape—"

"That's it, I've had it with you," he grabbed you roughly at your arm and bellowed toward the bartender, "Take over for her," before dragging you off towards his office.

He was mad beyond measure. You had never seen him this pissed before.

He didn't even care if the other guests saw him manhandling you so roughly. Just as you got shoved through the employee door, your gaze fell over your shoulders upon the handsome stranger, who had witnessed everything with a darkening expression on his face.

In his office, your boss threw you against the desk, making you yelp out in pain again as he hovered over you, pushing you down on it. Pulling up your skirt, he tried to rip down your underwear.

“Mr. Chisaki," you pleaded, “Please don't—” pressing your thighs together as good as you could.

"Shut up, impudent brat—" his hand closed around your throat, "You're afraid of being taken, huh? Well, let me take care of that—"

You clutched at his tight grip, trying to get him to loosen it, trying to get some air into your lungs.

“P-Please—" you wheezed out, your eyes rolling back in your head.

Chisaki didn't care, he just fumbled with his fly. As he was about to pull his dick out a dangerous growl sounded behind you, "Better not do that or else I might forget myself."

"What the hell!" Chisaki hastily pulled the zipper back up before spinning around, letting go of you, "Get the fuck out of my office!"

You sputtered and coughed, finally being able to breathe again. Between tear-clouded lashes, you recognized the stranger with black hair and beautiful cerulean eyes.

Chisaki’s lips twitched with rage as he stepped up to face him.

“I don't like to repeat myself – get the fuck out,” he growled back.

"Don't you recognize me, Kai Chisaki?" glacier cold eyes glared down at him, an eerie calmness about the man’s voice.

"How the fuck do you know my na—” the last word got stuck in his throat as he suddenly grew pale, all color draining from his face.

His lips parted as he tried speaking, only a meager croak coming out. He blinked, then cleared his throat.

"Oyabun, I-I am sorry," he sputtered, his hands trembling, "please forgive me for such impudence."

With that, he bowed down in front of the suit bearer, deep – and waited.

"Kobun, I think you won't mind if she takes the night off, now would you,” and with that his gaze fell upon you, not granting your boss another look as he just walked past him.

“And while you're at it, bring her bag and coat. Now." he said dryly.

"Of course, Oyabun," Chisaki straightened up and breathed submissively. Yet, he couldn't hide the aggravation and embarrassment written on his face before he left the room to get the requested items.

As you sat up, wiping away your tears and trying to straighten your skirt he approached you and stopped just short of the desk to the side of you.

“Here, let me help you,” he offered you his hand, his eyes now softer, a warm look to them, “Are you ok?”

You gave him a nod and laid your hand in his palms with hesitation. It seemed so small, almost disappearing in his large dexterous hands. But a warmth flowed through you from his touch, comforting and soothing.

After he helped you to your feet and Chisaki had returned with your belongings, the blue-eyed stranger nudged his head towards the entrance, “Follow me, please.”

Without looking back, you both turned towards the exit and holding the door open, you stepped outside.

A subtle moonlight illuminated the pavement as you both stepped towards the silver, expensive-looking Bentley parked in front, lined by two black Escalades.

He stopped and turned towards you, frowning, "Tell me, why did you leave so hastily a couple of days ago?"

“What was am I supposed to do after waking up almost naked in a stranger's bed?" You’d been fidgeting, a bit of irritation in your voice, "Why did you take me in the first place?"

“Well, kinda passed out on the street and I didn't know where you lived,” he mused and tapped his finger on the roof of the car.

Cringing at the thought of it you retorted, "Ok, touché," not being able to hide a small shy grin.

He took you in and then hummed in approval, "Fair enough, I guess we're even then."

Walking you around the car, he held the door open while you swung your legs in and sat down on the passenger seat.

The cabin featured a striking veneer of dark ivory, the three-dimensional textured leather upholstery was so soft it almost felt like velvet. You melted right into the cushions, part of the day's tension dissipating with the soft feel on your skin.

Everything about this car was a tribute to elegance and luxury. You had to suck in a quick breath, trying to calm down your rattled nerves.

You watched him round the front of the car, winking at you before he elegantly slid into the seat next to you, closing the door shut behind him.

“By the way, I'm Touya,” nonchalantly, he shifted the gear into drive and started the engine.

“Touya—" you repeated his name, savored it on your tongue, sounding like perfection on your lips.

A tentative smile spread across your face as even more of the tension faded, knowing him so close. Something about him made you relax and forget about daily life's chores.

Maybe it was his smell, musky and warm, with a hint of expensive cologne in it. Maybe his dark warm voice. But maybe just the striking turquoise of his eyes.

Maybe— it was just all of him.

You just then realized you had been staring at him and blood rushed into your face, making your cheeks burn.

He chuckled with a low rasp, “Cute—” and grabbed the gearstick, stepping on the gas.

Right away you noticed the black escalades moving with you, one in front, one in the back.

When throwing a questioning glance at Touya, he just chuckled, "Bodyguards.”

“Body– what? Why?” You couldn't contain your surprise, “Don't tell me the car is bulletproof as well.”

“Of course it is,” he grinned, elegantly moving the wheel to turn the corner.

“Who are you exactly?” you asked in disbelief, staring intently at him.

“Gonna find out sooner or later, doll,” he mused again.

You groaned with frustration and sunk back into your seat. He was a good driver, swirling in and out of traffic. It was mesmerizing to watch how easily he changed gears on this stick-shift, one hand always casually resting on the steering wheel.

After a while of silence, he asked, “Have you eaten today?”

Fumbling nervously with your hands you muttered, "Well, last time this morning–”

Touya gave you a sidelong glance but didn't reply. He simply pulled out his phone, dialed a number and spoke with a quiet voice into it before hanging up.

He was staying perfectly aligned with the convoy and weaving through the streets to finally slow down in front of a modern multi-story home surrounded by a concrete wall crowned with barbed wire and cameras.

You remembered this place too well from three days ago as the one you woke up in. A huge metal gate opened up to let the three cars pass, only to quietly close behind you again.

You drove into an underground parking garage and stopped close to an elevator, both Escalades coming to a stop next to you.

Several men clad in black with ear studs and headsets stepped out of the car, accompanying you to the elevator and up.

Touya, without moving his head, asked, "Is everything arranged?”

“Yes, all prepared, boss,” was the monotonous reply.

Once inside his home, Touya helped you out of your jacket and took your bag. As soon as you stood there, bare feet on the warm floor, the men in black turned to leave, the door clicking shut behind them.

You took your time to look around. The interior was lavish and luxurious, a perfect balance between futuristic design and a display of different antiques. You stood in a huge living room with plush sofas and several chaise longue placed in front of a huge bay window giving way to the backyard of the mansion.

Off to the side, you noticed the half-open door to his bedroom and you blushed at the thought of you having slept in there.

You stepped up to the windows, continuing to admire the artifacts, paintings and antiques lining the walls. You noticed they were mostly Japanese, matching the inlaid tatami mats covering vast parts of the living room.

It was incredibly spacious, yet there was a coziness that made you relax. Looking outside the huge bay windows, neatly tucked in between lavish woods of bamboo you noticed a zen garden.

You were enamored by the miniature stylized landscape through carefully composed arrangements of rocks, water features, moss, pruned trees and bushes, and gravel raked like ripples in the water.

Touya stepped behind you and you felt his fingertips straighten a few stray strands of hair. It was a caring and intimate gesture and somehow it felt perfect with the view in front of you.

“You like it?” Touya asked, noticing you having fallen quiet.

“I do,” you hummed in approval, not quite sure if he implied about him touching you or the view in front of you.

When he moved past you towards the kitchen, he brushed down your arm and took your hand in his to pull you with him. Your eyes went wide, face heating up as your gaze followed his perfect figure and you marveled at his broad shoulders and slim waist.

And you caught yourself imagining how he would look without clothes on.

Shaking your head as if to get rid of those thoughts, you followed him into the next room.

Touya stopped in the spacious kitchen at the center console, and let go of you, waiting for you to step closer. There were several plates with delicious and expensive-looking food on them, as well as a bottle of Dom Perignon in a gold cooler waiting.

Touya turned to retrieve two gold-rimmed crystal flutes from the cabinets and went about uncorking the bottle. Unraveling the foil, he loosened the cage and nudged at the cork until it came off with a plop, taking the metal frame with it. He then let the champagne sit for a few seconds to give bubbles time to subside before pouring you a glass.

Taking the flute from his hands, the tip of his fingers grazed your skin, making goosebumps ripple over your it. Sipping the liquid, you tried hiding your blush, enjoying the perfect balance between its freshness as well as the silky lingering finish.

Lounging against the counter, with his long legs stretched out in front of him, Touya’s electric blue eyes watched you over the rim of his glass.

“I’d like to drink champagne from your lips,” he bluntly rasped and you almost choked, the corner of his mouth curling up into a smug smirk.

Cheeks ablaze, you mockingly glowered at him and took another sip, feeling the bubbles tickling your stomach, a light buzz spreading through your head.

"But first, let's eat," he grinned, kicking off the counter.

There was Shoyou glazed salmon, lobster-filled rolled omelet as well as steamed lobster, Gambero Rosso blanched in champagne, Almast caviar, and blini. Several vegetarian dishes rounded the menu off. Needless to say, it was heavenly. You had never tasted such flavors, equalling a culinary explosion in your mouth.

After the last crumbs had been picked up with your fingers and found their way into your mouth, you both cleared off the dishes and set them to the side of the sink.

Turning towards the center console, you drank more of the champagne, still savoring its delicious smell and taste.

You felt the heat of his body first before two hands laid almost hesitant on your sides when he melted against you from behind, his leg shifting between yours.

Your breath came out nervously as you closed your eyes, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest against your back. The brush of his mouth and nose along the sensitive skin of your neck had you shiver with excitement.

As he inhaled, taking in your scent, his hand slid down your side and the heat growing between your thighs made you acutely aware of just how badly you were attracted to him.

Without a warning he spun you around to sweep you off the floor, placing you on the marble counter.

Your gaze fell down to his perfect lips as he took another sip from the champagne and leaned towards you, pressing his lips on yours.

Your eyes went wide when you felt him pry them open and the frizzy liquid flowed into your mouth. He sealed it with his and you swallowed, drinking the champagne. He grinned into the kiss and retracted, cocking his head to smirk at you.

A drop of the expensive liquid ran down your chin and he brushed it off with his soft thumb.

The slight buzz removed your last inhibitions as you took your own flute with confidence, lifted it to your lips and let the bubbly liquid flow into your mouth.

Without hesitation, you leaned towards him and repeated the procedure, as he eagerly drank up and swallowed the pearly liquid you fed him.

Panting slightly you retracted, your heart pounding in your chest, as all you longed for was to feel his lips on yours again.

As if he knew, he bridged the gap between you, pausing a second before tilting his head and pressing his lips softly against yours.

Sudden dizziness rushed to your head as he lazily started working his mouth against yours. You kissed for minutes on end. He tasted so good, everything about him was perfect, his scent, the softness of his hair when you ran your fingers through them.

His hands slipped down and underneath your skirt, pressing into the soft flesh, trailing up, taking the fabric with them. His thumbs stroked soothing circles along your thigh sliding closer and closer to your clothed sex.

With every inch, your heart started beating faster and faster. When his thumbs grazed your underwear, a surprised gasp left your mouth.

You hastily pulled back from the kiss and instinctively pressed your hands in the crotch of your skirt, bringing him to a gentle halt.

His eyes fluttered open to meet yours, eyebrow arching as he asked, "What's the matter, baby?"

Pulling his hands away from you and bracing himself on either side of your legs, he cocked his head, waiting for your answer.

You nervously fiddled with your skirt, straightening the creases a bit before muttering, "I-I just—" you paused, exhaling deeply, "I’ve never—"

You blushed under his intense stare and faltered with embarrassment, lowering your gaze, tears starting to prick the corners of your eyes.

There were a few moments of quietness as you tried to keep from crumbling right then and there.

"I'm begging you,” he broke the silence, his expression hard to read, “Tell me that you're not a virgin."

"Uh, I'm sorry, oh god—" you sniffled back more tears at your revelation.

"Fuck," he growled, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder.

His breathing sounded strained and your heart dropped as you imagined the worst. But then his warm hands closed around yours, turning them palms up and to your surprise, he started pressing featherlight kisses into them.

"You're pure perfection…" he rasped breathily.

Deep azures, half-lidded with desire, darted up to meet yours, taking you in with unrelenting lust and he grabbed your waist to yank you forward until your pelvis was flush with his.

Time seemed to come to a stop as you felt the heat of his crotch seep into yours. Then he inched closer, sealing his mouth against yours again.

Coaxing your lips open with gentle bites and licks, his hot wet tongue slipped in and then he kissed you with fervor.

It was heavenly.

His fingers trailed along the side of your body, squeezing your flesh but then you flinched, having the bruise on your side make itself noticeable under his touch.

He pulled back and looked at you quizzingly.

"It's just,” you paused, “Earlier at work, that guy, he tossed me against the table and—”

His expression instantly turned stone-cold and he stepped back, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

After dialing a number he quietly spoke into it, glancing at you once in a while. You were merely able to make out words like fingers and just a warning. When finished, he hung up and placed the phone off to the side, approaching you.

"Where were we?" He grinned cockily and you couldn't believe his change in demeanor.

"Who did you call?" You asked.

"Don't worry your pretty head over it," he pressed a soft kiss against your pulse point.

"But–” you protested.

“I said don't worry—” the smile on his face was replaced by a sterner expression.

You pouted and crossed your arms in front of you. Touya’s head tilted to the side with a lazy smirk like he was having the time of his life.

"You're so cute when you pout," he chuckled and you sighed, unwinding your arms in favor of cupping his face.

Leaning into your touch, your lips met his again as you continued holding him, mumbling “Just shut up—”

Your hands trailed down while he passionately kissed, tugging and nipping at each other's lips and you couldn't help the muffled whimpers spilling from your lips.

As his tongue curled around yours, your hands moved to his shirt without thinking, shakily working their way down the buttons, undoing them one by one.

And he let you.

Arriving at his pants, you tugged and pulled at the fabric to remove the last of it from underneath the seam of them, still kissing and exploring each other's mouths.

You felt him smile against your lips and when you pushed his shirt down his shoulders, he let go of you in favor of helping you ease it off his arms until he stood shirtless in front of you.

You peeked open your eyes and a sudden sharp exhale left your lungs, your hands clutching against his chest, trying to push him away from you.

They started just short under his collarbone and covered his entire upper body, winding down both his arms down to his wrists.

Irezumi.

Your eyes widened with disbelief, the meaning of them slowly sinking in. Your face went pale as you scooted back, your hands clasping over your mouth.

"Y-you're—," you stuttered, slowly lowering your hands, as he calmly straightened up.

“I'm what?” The low amused rasp of his voice had shivers race up your spine.

"You're a Yakuza!" The high pitch of your voice didn't exactly hide your discomfort.

"Well, not just any Yakuza,” he smugly said, his eyes sparkling with boyish mischief, “Technically, I am the Yakuza. The Kumicho.”

"You're what?!" You made a punch-out sound at his revelation.

He just stood there, lazily resting on one foot, hips cant, grinning cheekily at you. His deep blues burned into yours as he waited, evaluating your reaction, while your eyes trailed down, magically attracted by the rich colors adorning his torso.

There was a dragon of turquoise blue, perfectly matching his eye color, surrounded by similar colored flames. Other symbols accompanied him: the tiger, the koi, the samurai. They were all surrounded by rich chrysanthemums and lotus flowers, seemingly embedded in them.

You couldn't stop staring at it, at the intricate patterns, the way the images seemed to come to life when he breathed — how the dragon seemed to move and the flames flickered.

It was on instinct that your hand rose to touch the tattoos. And Touya let you. Your fingertips ghosted over the lines, tracing them, across his chest, feeling his heartbeat, the warmth radiating from him. Up to his shoulder and down his arm, over the colorful flowers, the roaring tiger your fingers carefully glided. He was beautiful.

That's when the tension broke.

Your own breathing increased and your eyes flitted up to meet his. Having watched you the entire time, a soft smile played around the corners of his mouth.

"See what you like?" He sent you a playful wink.

You swallowed, your mouth gone dry, before croaking, "Y-Yeah…but Touya, you're a criminal, you kill people."

”I don't kill, I just give out the orders,” his eyebrows arched playfully, lifting his hands to show you, “See? No blood.”

“Not funny!” his cockiness had you rolling your eyes before swatting him across his chest.

His dopey grin grew even wider.

“Normally I have people killed who dare to hit me like that," he bent forward, his lips grazing the edge of your ear, "You're lucky I like you so much—"

If your face had been hot, it was now burning, while you took a deep heap of air, your heart beating wildly within your chest.

His face fell silent again, as he stared at you.

"Touch me again," the commanding tone of his voice left no room for objections.

Hesitantly, you laid both hands on his chest again, gently smoothing over his defined pectorals. He shakily exhaled as you felt down his abs, along his sides to move back up. It was mesmerizing.

His hand came to a gentle rest on your hips while you reached further up, along the curve of his neck, tangling your fingers in his silken hair. His hand moved to the low of your back and tugged you close before you pulled him into a searing kiss.

This time, the kiss was hungry, consuming. He held you close by your hips, rutting against you, heat pooling low in your gut. Your soft moans were captured by his mouth as his tongue played with yours, their tips kissing once, twice before sliding deeper, tasting you.

"All this time, I couldn't get you out of my head," he said softly, “Sure you want to continue?”

A nod of your head was all the answer he needed, and he groaned into your kiss, wrapping you into his embrace.

"Say it," his eyes darkened as his voice washed over you.

"Touya, I want you to— " your voice feeble, yet determined, "I-I want it to be you."

It wasn't much of a confession. Rather the truth pressed out between your lush, wet lips. Touya pulled back, his eyes almost black with desire.

Lifting you up, he carried you over to his bedroom, laying you gently on the bed. The room was dipped in warm, indirect lighting. It made the tattoos over his muscles seem even more magical, as you scooted back to make room for him.

Reaching towards the buttons of your blouse, he undid them one by one. Arching your back you helped him slip the fabric over your head as he carelessly discarded it on the floor. Hooking his fingers under the hem of your skirt, he pulled it off your hips, joining the heap on the floor.

Involuntarily pressing your thighs together, you shyly laid below him, your white lace underwear in stark contrast to the black silk sheets. It was the first time you were exposed like this in front of a man.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his enraptured look burning on your skin.

Leaning over you, his hand moved behind your back to unclasp your bra with one swift move of his fingers. It joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor in no time. Your body flushed in embarrassment as he moved to lace his fingers in the waistband of your panties, tugging them off as well.

Touya’s cerulean eyes raked over your exposed skin, drinking you in as his palms stroked gently along your sides.

He leaned over you, his eyes simmering with lust, “You’re good?”

“Yeah—” You nodded and let out an airy sigh, breathy and wanting.

He gently touched your legs and parted your thighs open, settling himself comfortably between them. Rolling his hips against you with a soft groan, he made you feel his bulge, as he breathed into your neck.

Crossing the distance down to your chest, he languidly began to lap at your breast, dragging and coiling his tongue around your bud.

He shifted to your other mound, covering the short distance with open-mouthed kisses that left you shivering underneath him. His cheeks hollowed as he began to suck a nipple into his mouth, tongue and teeth playing with it, making your hands grab uselessly at the silk sheets.

"I'll take care of you, baby," Touya hummed into your breast, suckling the soft skin.

Your body moved on instinct, your hips canting forward, when his lips trailed down, licking at your belly button, further and further down until they found your pubic mound.

"Just enjoy," were his words before his tongue started working lazy circles over your clit.

You couldn't help the whimpers falling from your lips and went limp in the sheets, body weak with desire that filled you from head to toe.

Watching your face contort with pleasure, his tongue repeatedly flicked across your clit then flatly stroked over it. Dipping down, following the line of your slit, his tongue parted your folds, circling your tight entrance, his nose now rubbing against your most sensitive spot.

Bucking your hips into him you moaned out loud, your fingers weaving through his soft hair, encouraging him to dive in deeper, to create more friction. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and held them steady for him, as he continued lapping repeatedly over your folds and clit.

You shuddered as his large hands came up to palm your breast and tweak your nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers, sending pleasurable shocks to your core. You continued grinding against him, your mind blissfully blank, the motion causing sultry moans from leaving your lips.

He moved back up to wrap his lips permanently around your clit, his teeth lightly grazing it as he lashed his tongue against the sensitive nub. And then he began to gently suck on the tiny bud, alternated lapping over it to cause friction before sucking on it again, longer and stronger every time.

The sensation it caused was unlike anything you’d ever felt before while he continued to work your body with precision. The heat continued rising, your core tensing until you snapped.

“Oh god—.” You gasped, coming undone beneath him, your climax surging through you like a tidal wave.

Your hips bucked into his face, your hands falling limp off to the side, clawing into the sheets as you moaned out his name – over and over again.

But instead of stopping, he continued the pace, your thighs quivering as you felt another intense orgasm approaching.

“S’too much, I can’t—” You tried squirming away from him, trying to shut your thighs as the sensation became too overwhelming.

But he kept you steady and spread wide with a tight grip as he mercilessly worked his tongue against your sensitive nub. As quickly as you’d reached your first climax, he had you hovering at the edge again in no time. And with one particularly strong lick, he pushed you over it.

Your body fell stiff, the coil inside of you exploding, as a dizzying wave of heat rolled through you. You writhed in his grip, eyes screwed shut as you succumbed to the pleasure. Gently, he carried you through your orgasm, licking soothing long strips over your folds and clit, tasting your release on his tongue as you tried to focus on your surroundings again.

He came back up from between your legs, his face glistening with your juices as he brushed a gentle kiss across your mouth. You could taste the sweetness of yourself on him, as he gently asked, “Are you ready?”

You couldn't answer, but the way your lust-blown pupils begged him to continue said everything.

“So pretty like this," he exhaled and moved up to rest on his heels.

You whimpered when you saw the large bulge inside his black boxer briefs. His thumbs slipped into the hem of them, tugging the fabric down his thighs and kicking them off with his feet, his hard cock bouncing up to slap against his abdomen.

His size was completely unexpected, the sheer girth intimidating enough to have you wondering if he'd even fit.

He leaned over you, his eyes level with yours and you felt him against you, hard muscle and warm skin, his hot erection pressing against your dripping sex.

He hesitated, deep blues taking you in, “Ready?”

“Yeah—,” you panted against him.

He nodded slightly, his cheek against yours as you felt his tip prodding your entrance.

Your lips parted in a silent moan and he whispered along the curve of your ear, his mouth grazing along your lobe, “Just relax—”

And you did – forcing yourself to relax, to breathe.

It was the stretch you felt first. The stretch of him entering, before hitting resistance and with a snap that resistance faded, being replaced by stinging, burning pain. As he sank deeper, groaning breathily, you felt the intense stretch next, adding to the pain, and you bit your lower lip to suppress a scream, closing your eyes.

"Such a good girl," he whispered gently, lips pressed to the skin of your neck as he continued to burrow himself deeper and deeper within.

A small tear trickled down your temple while he whispered sweet praises into your ear. You were too caught up in the feeling of him filling you up than to hear anything. He was surrounding you, engulfing you – the warmth of his body, his intoxicating smell, the heat of him inside of you. It was all just him.

It seemed like forever until he bottomed out. You never felt so full in your entire life. Lifting his head he studied how you panted below him, pupils blown wide.

“You good there, doll?” his voice so soft as he lifted a hand to carefully remove a strand of hair from your forehead.

“Peachy…” you giggled, tears blanketing your vision, chest heaving and falling with every forced breath you took.

“Want me to continue?” his eyes darted between yours, trying to read you.

“Hell yes,” you moaned and he couldn't suppress a low chuckle.

Just a moment passed before his lips met yours again and he started to move, drawing out slowly, before gliding back in.

“Oh my g-god,” you gasped, your hands shooting up to clutch at his shoulders, thighs clamping around his hips.

He started off with slow languid motions, giving you time to adjust to his size, and soon the initial burn dulled out into a pleasurable, gentle throb between your thighs. Starting to increase the pace you mewled, feeling something rolling hot and prickly in your stomach, the coil inside of you tightening.

Each shove of his hips forced your walls to clamp tighter around his girth. You were so sensitive from your previous orgasms, your overstimulated body quivered and shook in his hold.

He kept rolling his hips, trying to find the spot inside you he knew would have you coming undone for him. And then you felt it, your eyes shot wide open and you silently gasped when he hit a place inside you you've never felt before.

“That's it,” he muttered, more to himself than to you as he kept that position, his hips now moving at a relentless pace.

As he was hovering over you, his muscles rippled with every one of his thrusts, making the tattoos come to life in front of you. The musky provocative scent of his clean sweat and your combined sex engulfed you, drugging your mind and another shiver raced through you, spreading in slow waves through your body.

“Doing so good for me," there was a heat in his voice, a huskiness as he continued to drive in and out of you.

The dam broke and tears now freely fell from your eyes, as the feeling was so intense, almost too much. His cock relentlessly hit your g-spot, causing your inner walls to clench around him as the coil inside you wound tighter and tighter with every one of his thrusts.

“I–I’m gonna—” you sputtered as your vision began to become blotchy.

“I got ya,” he panted, the sound trailing off into a groan.

Leaving his shoulders, your hands searched for his, holding him steady to either side of you. He lifted them one after another to thread his fingers into yours. And then you felt it again – another wave of pleasure building up, your walls starting to tighten around him, your heart now racing in your chest.

His speed picked up, as he pounded into you with short little thrusts that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

One particular deep thrust of his had you finally fall apart underneath him again.

“Touya—” is all you manage to press out before an earth-shattering climax surged through you.

This one had you spiraling, falling, stars erupting behind your fluttering eyelids as you shook in his hold with ecstasy. Your walls desperately spasmed around his length, while he groaned, his hips stuttering as he tumbled over the edge along with you, burying himself deep inside of you before he came.

Working your hips sensually against each other, you both savored this special moment of intimate pleasure, riding out your shared release together. The room fell silent, only your heated breaths filling the void. He hovered over you, careful not to crush you with his weight, his arms trembling with exhaustion.

“Lay down on me,” you muttered and he reluctantly melted into you.

His weight was heavy but not uncomfortable, as he nestled into your neck, his breathing slowly coming down as his heart beat against yours. A light sheen of sweat coated both your bodies, his hair stuck in messy strands to his forehead as he pressed gentle kisses to your skin.

You didn't say anything for several minutes, as he just stayed buried inside of you, slowly getting soft. Eventually, he slightly moved his hips and his cock slid out. And with it your combined release. As lewd as it was, it felt so good. You felt so good, so— perfect.

Pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his tousled hair, you ran your trembling fingertips over his back and noticed with amusement him squirmed, inhaling shakily.

“Aw, ticklish, are we,” you giggled and he mumbled a muffled shut up into your warm sweaty skin.

Eventually, he lifted his head to look at you, turquoise irises almost glowing in the dim light, “How was it?”

“It was… out of this world—” You didn’t even know how to describe it, not able to find any words for the euphoria you felt.

"Will you stay?" he glanced at you again.

“Is the big scary Yakuza boss asking me not to leave him alone?” you teased playfully.

“If you want to put it that way, then – yes,” he grinned into your skin, and then he admitted, “I like you calling me big and scary, by the way.”

This was a different kind of intimacy. One you had longed for a long time now but had never been able to experience. Until now.

“I-I think I like you, Touya,” you swallowed, mouth full of cotton as your fingers toyed softly with the messy strands of his hair.

"You think – or you know?” he purred possessively, “Because I am certain I do like you a lot.”

He lifted himself to look at you with his still dilated azure blue eyes.

You gulped as he continued, “And I think I want to keep you. With me. Here.”

He cocked his head in a questioning gesture and wordlessly, you pulled him down towards you, kissing like you had never kissed him before, sealing the deal.

409 notes · View notes

to-star-lake · 3 years

Text

one & only

sanzu haruchiyo x f!reader { you're sanzu's one and only. }

18+ minors dni | murder, drug use, dark themes, rough sex, choking, toxic relationship, character death, bonten sanzu

a/n: sanzu's name { 三途 } is written the same as 三途の川 { sanzu-no-kawa, “river of three crossings” or “sanzu river” } which is the japanese buddhist version of the river styx.

sanzu doesn't call you his girlfriend. he'd never use such pedestrian language to describe what you are to him. soulmate is closer. but still, to take everything he felt about you and edit it down to a single word? it wouldn't be possible.

the best he could describe it is perhaps that you were made for him.

the day mikey introduced you to the other executives as bonten's newest advisor, sanzu stood in the back of the room, unconsciously biting his lip as he stared at your clean and crisp white tee shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of black slacks. your perfect skin. your shiny hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. your delicate hands. and the sharp glisten of your eyes. you looked so sincere.

a top scholar and graduate of the national university. your parents had been foreign diplomats. you spoke five languages. all this brilliance packaged neatly behind such a pretty face. oh, you were so perfect. so pristine. i'll make you regret playing with monsters, little princess. sanzu thought he couldn't wait to break you.

it didn't take him long to realize how wrong he was.

he'd stare at your hands, the ones he thought were so delicate, as they beat mercilessly into the skull of a traitor that lay limp beneath you. being a bonten advisor meant you never needed to get your hands dirty. but you didn't mind. and sanzu felt a trickling heat of excitement shimmy up his spine watching the blood splatter across your perfect skin, staining your clean shirt.

he'd listen in awe in the war room as your fingertips traced gracefully over blueprints of the city, and you'd describe plans for a new building downtown. a new shell business to run money through. a merger with a smaller, weaker gang simply as a means to procure disposable foot soldiers for mikey.

on one particular night, he'd sat back and watched you, transfixed, as he pulled the car up beside a dark tinted suv at a stoplight on a deserted street on the outskirts of shinjuku. you'd pointed your gun out the open window, so fast and precise on the trigger, taking out all the passengers in the car. he would've missed the shots with a single blink.

he couldn't recall all the details of the rest of that night. but he woke to find you in his bed the next morning, your naked body tucked comfortably under his sheets beside him.

his head pounded and he tried to remember what happened but all that he could recall were a series of blurred images. of the two of you leaving the war room together after receiving orders from mikey to take out the heads of a rival gang. a vision of your bare thighs, exposed under a short, plaid skirt as you sat in his passenger seat, and the quiet rattle as you attached a silencer to the end of your gun.

he remembered the sound of indistinct chatter and an image of you sitting across from him in a dimly lit restaurant. a vague recollection of a bottle of scotch, of him staring at himself in the restaurant's bathroom mirror as he wiped some white residue from his upper lip. of you, bent over the sink with a straw in your nose. a blurred reel of your legs wrapped around his waist, of him pushing you up against the mirror so hard the glass cracked and you moaned into his open mouth. you sounded as sweet as you tasted.

in the grey winter light here in his bed, he looked at the blotches of blue and purple bruises that lined your neck and chest. at the edge of your perfect lips, a little swollen and the skin a little cracked. at the indentation of teeth marks on your shoulder, red with coagulated blood under the surface.

your eyes fluttered open and for a moment he was afraid. afraid that the cold light of day would be too harsh for you. afraid that all that was mystifying and beautiful in the night would be destroyed by the light. afraid you would leave.

but you'd looked into his eyes for a moment, and your lashes fell closed and you'd snuggled into his side, languidly dragging your arm across his chest.

let's sleep a little more, my head hurts and we still have at least another hour before we have to go meet the others.

oh, your voice sounded so sweet, still raspy with sleep, a lullaby to his ears.

as bonten leaders, he knew a relationship with you was strictly forbidden. he knew what mikey would do if he or any of the others ever found out. and he knew you knew too.

but you simply shrugged your shoulders as you picked up your clothes that were scattered across the floor of his bedroom. like you knew what he was thinking, and said i'm not afraid of them. are you?

he'd laughed at himself then. just who was corrupting who? he wondered.

the time he had with you began to envelope his heart. and the love he felt for you; small, crackling embers at first, had grown into a fire so bright and wild and twisted it could not be extinguished.

you were his partner; his chosen one. he loved the way your knuckles looked when they were bruised and red; such a beautiful contrast against your delicate and soft skin. he loved the way your fingers graced the handle of your gun, the dead calm of your eyes when you pulled the trigger. he was intoxicated with the knowledge that you were watching every time he carried out his duty as executioner.

his infatuation with you burned in his chest when he'd glance up at you, standing in the distance, eyes fixed on him and you'd slowly drag the palm of your hand up your thigh; testing his willpower to not pin you to the ground and tear you apart right then and there in front of his men.

under the cover of darkness, the two of you came alive. going on sprees, speeding through the bright streets of tokyo, the lights around you a blurred spectral of color to your bloodshot, medicated eyes.

in the midnight hours, your bodies would be intertwined, and in your arms he found a sanctuary. your body was the most addicting drug of all. you made all the pain disappear.

the quiet hours of the early morning, when time teetered on the edge of night and day, he'd lay on your chest, and for just a little while, his world would fall quiet. the air around him felt still. he would be coming down from his high, and he could feel everything. but he didn't mind. these small hours of lucidity shone brilliantly in his mind. when he could hear your breathing. feel your heartbeat so vividly beneath your bones. smell the lingering and sweet scent of your skin on his.

he'd become so possessed by you, so possessive of you that one night when he had you laid out beneath him, your legs spread wide for him, and he thought you looked so beautiful like this. so perfect like this for him. your skin, slick with a layer of sweat, luminescent in the moonlight. your lips, parted and choking out shaky pleas for him, begging him not to stop.

he buried himself so deep inside you, nails clawing into your skin, so desperate to be one with you. and he thought no one, no one else would have you like this. he was so intoxicated by the medley of pills in his system, completely unhinged in the euphoria of being inside you, he'd reached for his gun on the nightstand and held it to your forehead, point blank between your eyes.

you didn't even flinch. he watched you knock the gun from his hands, and slide your fingers up his wrists, and pulled his hands to your neck, letting him wrap them around your throat. if you're gonna kill me, do it with your own hands, you'd said.

god, he loved you so much. he wanted you so much, he needed you so much. he'd closed his hands around your neck with the gentlest force and watched your eyes roll back.

say my name, he'd command. and when you did, he closed his hands more forcefully around your delicate neck so he could feel the vibration in your throat as you choked out his name over and over. you'd clenched down so tight around him and he came harder than he ever had, collapsing into you.

he'd slowly let go of you, chest heaving, and gently caress at the skin of your neck, red and starting to bruise.

y/n...if i died, would you die with me? he'd whisper into your skin.

mmh, yeah. you'd whisper back.

i don't want anyone else to have you. i want you to be mine forever. he'd kiss the corner of your lips.

he'd feel your fingers laced up into his hair, your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him close.

what am i going to do with you...i might really kill you one of these days.

he'd lift his head to look at you. and your expression didn't change a bit. your eyes held the same resolve they always did, and you said, then i'll wait for you by the sanzu river.

this was what flashed through his mind when he walked into one of bonten's warehouses late one evening for a meeting of the executives, and he saw all of them standing in a circle around you, bound and tied, blood streaming from your hairline, your bruised body limp on the concrete.

he fell to his knees then, watching mikey shove the end of his gun against your temple.

did you think i wouldn't find out? mikey's thumb clicked down on the hammer.

he saw your eyes flutter open and find his. you smiled.

the muzzle flash was bright, and the shot rang through the dark, open space.

he stared at the blood pooling from the side of your head into the dust. he felt a single tear roll down his cheek. shit, am i really crying right now? he laughed at himself.

WHO ARE YOU LOYAL TO, SANZU?! mikey demanded.

i'll wait for you by the sanzu river. your words echoed in his mind.

mikey may have been his king. but you were the redeemer, his messiah, his salvation.

the choice was simple.

he pulled his own gun from its holster and held it up to his temple.

i'm on my way, love.

#haruchiyo sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x you #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu imagines

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ichorai · 3 years

Text

pearls and pastries ; j.jk

pairing ; pirate!jungkook x baker!reader (gender-neutral)

summary ; a crew of pirates have been pilfering your village for several weeks now and one particularly keen buccaneer has stopped by your bakery practically every visit; whether it be for the delectable pastries or for the sweet baker he's taken an interest to, jungkook couldn’t say. but there’s a catch - the baker doesn’t know that he’s a pirate.

themes ; fantasy, angst, fluff, pining, slight action, pirate au, baker au, medieval au

words ; 3.6k

warnings / includes ; descriptions of weaponry, stealing (from the rich), jungkook being a sad lovesick sap, pirate!bts, poetic sadness but when do i not do angst lmfao everything i touch turns into written sorrow </3

a/n ; written for the @ficscafe fic exchange event for @sunshinerainbowsbts !! i hope you like it <3 i'm definitely considering writing a part two to this :D

Jungkook wasn’t quite fond of parrots. Well, his mislike wasn’t necessarily directed towards the multi-hued rotund bird itself, but the fact that the wretched thing was squawking out a poor rendition of what Jungkook had announced earlier whilst clambering down the crow’s nest.

“I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery!” the winged devil screeched from atop Jimin’s shoulder, ruffling its bright feathers as if taunting him.

Shooting it the nastiest of scowls, Jungkook reached behind his head to untie the vermilion bandana holding his overgrown locks away from his narrowed eyes. “You better shut that bird up before I toss it to the sharks, Jimin.”

“If I let you do that, I’d also have to throw you overboard. The both of you are equally annoying,” the other pirate snorted in contempt, glancing up at his younger friend striding across the ship before moving his gaze back to the knapsack he was emptying for the pilfer. Out fell several empty bottles of rum, a few gold pieces glinting in the harsh midday sun, two jewel-encrusted daggers, and a worn eyepatch that suspiciously looked to be the same as the one Yoongi always wore over his left eye. “You seem to forget that we’re here to steal from the rich, not buy fancy breads! You’re lucky that Namjoon has half the decency not to kick you off the boat. Jin, however fond he is of you, still calls you a moocher.”

Rouge faintly dusted across Jungkook’s cheekbones as he coughed into his fist, lifting his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I steal stuff sometimes,” he muttered under his breath. It was useless to defend himself against someone who saw straight through him.

“Sometimes, my foot!” Jimin scoffed, hiking the bag over his shoulders. “Bringing back a goblet you found rolling down the street doesn’t count, you know that, right?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes to the cloudless sky, far too stubborn to admit that Jimin was right. With not another word, the young pirate clambered off of the large vessel and onto the rickety docks, grunting upon landing. It didn’t bother him much that Jimin was irked at his lack of contribution. They were rich enough as it is; what was the rush?

The air was tangy with sea salt and damp wood as he inhaled a deep breath, setting off for your bakery. Walking there took exactly three hundred and seventy two steps. Jungkook had memorized the shortest route to your little shop, mumbling the numbers under his breath with a growing grin blossoming across his lips. He subconsciously rolled the sleeves of his white tunic down, the fabric concealing the pirate tattoos inked all over his arms.

When the youthful sea wolf stepped foot into your store, a familiar chiming of the bell hooked atop the door echoed across the cream-walled room. At the reverberating sound, your head peeked out from the kitchen situated in the back. An illuminating beam danced on your features, eyes lighting up with mirth at the sight of Jungkook.

It made the muscle within his chest slam against his ribcage, desperate to be freed from its confines because it belonged to you, and only you. He wasn’t quite sure when the sudden fixation for the village baker his crew was stealing from started, but he had acclimated to his own change of heart by visiting you as often as he could.

“Fancy seeing you here today. Are you coming in or are you now my human door stopper?” Your heavenly voice floated towards Jungkook, snapping him out of his thoughts. Sheepish, he shuffled inside, engulfed by the warm scents of chocolate cakes, powdered pastries, caramelized fruits, and toasted almonds. His stomach gave an impatient snarl at the sight of tempting desserts. You had also walked to the front of the counter, dusting your flour covered hands on an apron. Some of the white powder had managed to smudge on your cheek, and Jungkook had to resist the urge to reach over and thumb it away.

“Hi,” he said with the brightest of grins. “I’ve missed you.”

At his bold statement, you suppressed a chortle. “I think you missed those chocolate cream puffs you like so much, not me. What’ve you been up to while you were gone?”

Jungkook hesitated at that. For the short amount of time he’d been visiting you, not once had he mustered the courage to tell you of his true origins. A savage pirate like him shouldn’t even be around the likes of you. You had no idea that he was part of the crew that was robbing your village, and the very thought of you finding out had him terrified. You were a taste of all the goodness in the world, and Jungkook was afraid you’d crumble into ash if he dared touch you. The sinner had no rights touching an angel, after all.

“Visiting family,” he hummed, quick to move on. If you noticed his strange demeanor, you didn’t say anything. For that, Jungkook was grateful. “I brought something for you.”

There was something about your smile that seemed to expel any and all feelings of gloom in a room. Jungkook was no exception to this feat, his knees almost buckling against the soft pink counters. He righted himself by leaning his elbows on top and propping his chin up with a palm. Gods, he didn’t know he was in this deep.

“Oh?” you set your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. “To what do I owe such pleasures?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “For those cream cheese tarts you made me last time I visited. Thought I’d repay you.” Whilst saying this, he used his free hand to reach into his back pocket, fishing out a string of authentic pearls, adorned with a glimmering clasp of gold the same hue as the sun.

Your smile melted into a confused pucker, brows knitting together in a muted painting of hesitance, yet you ogled the expensive necklace dangling by one of his spindly fingers nonetheless. Where on earth had he gotten such a valuable treasure? “But you already paid me with money. I really can’t take that, Jungkook.”

Disappointment was easily detected as he slanted his lips to the side. “Alright, then.” He tucked the pearls back into his pocket. It surprised you how easily he had complied.

The worrisome atmosphere was quick to dissolve when the bell jangled once more. A small child meandered in with a toothy beam, holding a small pouch of clattering coins in their palm. They were no taller than Jungkook’s midriff, and he liked it a little more than he should have watching a certain softness adorn your features at the sight of the kid.

“I recommend the cinnamon apple pie. Or maybe the brown sugar crepes if you’re looking for something sweeter,” Jungkook said, gesturing to the treat behind the display glass. The child angled their head to stare at the taller man with wonder. “Anything Y/N makes is to die for, though.”

The child excitedly babbled something in return, but you didn’t quite pick up what they had said. You were far too focused on Jungkook’s animated features when he kneeled down to point at some more desserts. Sure, he was a handsome man, you’ve known that since day one. You’ve never really looked at him in this light. It was as if he were carved from pure luminosity, whittled by the hand of the most skilled sculptor. Everything about him was practically perfect; the gentle slope of his nose, the angles of his raised eyebrows, the dappled rouge of his lips, the beauty marks mottling his dewy skin, the dangerous cuts of his jaw, the twinkle of gaiety you found in his irises. With the sunlight filtering through the windows, it basked Jungkook within a golden radiance, the shadows casted along his face only highlighting his best features, doing nothing to aid your fluttering pulse. Has he always been this beautiful?

“I’ll have a slice of apple pie!”

The sudden clinking of coins being dumped onto the counter snapped you out of your trance, and you kindly wrapped up what the child ordered and handed them the paper bag. Both you and Jungkook watched as they smiled in thanks and trotted out of the bakery. Curse his handsome physique.

A little flustered by your earlier thoughts, you busied your hands by sorting the coins the kid had coughed up. Jungkook, ever the kind soul, merely stood with you as you worked, engaging you in entertaining conversations to keep you occupied while your store was empty. Where did the sun go once it disappeared down the horizon? Why did everybody else seem to enjoy the bitter taste of coffee except him? Why did his heart beat so quickly when around you? The last question he couldn’t muster the courage to ask, and much to his perturbation, he already knew the answer. You enjoyed Jungkook’s company very much; to the point where you couldn’t quite remember what it was like before he had sauntered into your life.

Before the both of you knew it, the sun was already setting. Jungkook noticed the way you deflated just slightly when red kissed the sky. It was a telltale sign that Jungkook was long overdue to go back to his ship. Yoongi would have his ass if he was late again. The whole situation was ridiculous, really. He felt like a fairy tale princess running away from the ball before his clothes grew into tatters. Well, in his case, he supposed it’d be pirate-wear.

Your smile betrayed only the gentlest hint of disappointment as you thrusted a bag of warm cookies into his arms. “Take this for the road,” you had said.

And so Jungkook did, smiling like an idiot the whole way back. A part of him absentmindedly wondered what your face would look like when you noticed that he had left the pearls on the countertop for you.

The ship rocked as the young pirate scampered across the deck at a startling speed, flinging the doors to the cabins open. Six older pirates stared at his panting form, a few looking on with unsurprised indifference, most glaring at him in disappointment. Jimin merely stuck his tongue out, his childish way of saying I told you so. There was expectancy in the captain’s eyes, but it waned away at an instant upon seeing that Jungkook carried nothing of value. Namjoon pinched the space between his brows in mild frustration.

Stiffly, Jungkook jerked his arm to thrust the bag in his hand forward. “Cookie?” he asked. Nobody said anything. Jungkook slowly brought his appendage back down, guilt roiling in his abdomen. “I take it you guys don’t want the cookies?”

With a huff, Namjoon stalked forward. “Of course we want the cookies, give me that.” He snatched the bag out of Jungkook’s hands and tossed it to Taehyung, who caught it with eagerness vividly splayed across his ruffled features. “I do have to admit, we’re getting tired of you bringing back nothing but sweets every time we go on raids, Jungkook. C’mon, kid, this is a team effort here. Look, just today Yoongi managed to steal a dozen coffers from a nobleman. The least you can do is try.” True to the captain’s word, there was a mountain of chests and boxes full to the brim with gold coins and shimmering jewels piled to the side of the cabin.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Jungkook nodded in understanding, though not without a miniscule frown twinging his lips. What was a pirate without his treasure, right?

Taking note of his glum demeanor, Namjoon clapped a hand to the younger man’s shoulder. “We’re not mad at you—”

Yoongi snorted at that.

“We just… want to help you help us,” Namjoon finished, ignoring the salty pirate’s quip from behind him.

The youngest man on deck raised his hand to his forehead in an awkward salute. “Yes cap’n!” Shame prowled within his chest; just thinking about the dishonor he brought to the pirate reputation by loitering in a bakery all day, ogling at sugary treats (and the sweet baker, but Jungkook digresses).

A part of him felt even worse knowing that he’d see you less and less, what with the other pirates breathing down his neck. He could only hope that you’d still look forward to his visits, though few and far in between.

Authentic bottles of expensive wines were shoved into his knapsack by Taehyung, lacing chains of aureate crammed into his hands by Hoseok, bars of cold silver wedged into the pits of his arms by Jimin, and more treasures thrown at the youngest pirate to hold as they lithely ran across the village. Being one of the stronger and more agile ones of the group had its downfalls, after all. He was being treated like a pack mule, hauling all the treasure for them. Not that he was going to complain; Jungkook knew that he deserved the rough-housing.

“Hold onto these for me, will you?” Yoongi gruffly uttered as he slid the thick hilts of gem-encrusted daggers into his belt. Jungkook complied hesitantly, but not without a suppressed groan of annoyance. “They’ll sell for more than a pretty penny, so don’t lose them.” The older pirate seemed to be in a grumpier than usual mood, considering he lost his eyepatch and the mottled scar crossing over his eye was on display for anybody to gawk at. It would’ve been worrying to Jungkook if he wasn’t aware of the fact that Jimin was merely prolonging his juvenile game of ‘keep away’, attempting to dance away from Yoongi’s inevitable wrath.

Perhaps being a pirate wasn’t his true calling, because Jungkook found that his mind kept wandering off to the matters at hand—running away from the guards. Though it was a relatively easy task (the guards were quite thick-headed in this village), he thought about the pretty plants dangling from the balconies of a building they jogged by, or the scents of exotic spices carried by the souq market not far from where they were. Most of all, much to his expectancy, his thoughts were centered around you. Had you gotten many customers for lunch rush? Were you lonely without him? How many times have you smiled today? Jungkook was all too fond of your smile.

Blinded by his unsaid affectionate ramblings, he only barely caught on to Namjoon’s quiet, “We shook the guards off for now. Be careful next time, Seokjin. The sun’s about to set soon; we should head back to the ship before it gets dark.”

Jungkook hissed out a small sigh of relief, bending over to catch his breath. Jogging across the village would have been no problem, but running with treasures twice his weight draped all over him was a different story.

When he righted himself back to standing, the sudden pit of shocked trepidation unfurled within his abdomen. There you were, beautiful as ever, but a terrifying sight to see. Normally you’d be the only person he would want to see, but as of this moment, you were the absolute last person he fancied bumping into.

Why now? He had the most rotten of luck.

Today you weren’t wearing your regular apron, but a pair of fitted grey trousers and a soft beige blouse far too large for you, hanging off of one of your shoulders as you cradled a basket of breads and cheeses and other groceries in your arms. It was a simple outfit, but one that made his heart clench nonetheless. The glinting of iridescent pearls draped over your décolletage had his breath stolen away from him as raw sentiment overtook his form. You were wearing the pearls he left for you and you never looked more beautiful. Jungkook, on the other hand, was clad in clothes that practically screamed pirate; a golden-clasped corset tightened about the small of his waist, a tattered white button-up tucked into his dark trousers, worn sea boots covering his feet. A large gun was also slung over the belt cinched around his hips, along with multiple daggers of the like, and not to mention all the riches and jewelry the other boys had thrown at him.

You couldn’t see him. No, it would absolutely ruin Jungkook.

Perhaps dropping everything he was holding in a panicked effort to dash away as quickly as he could was the worst possible thing he could have done to not warrant any attention.

The concerned and confused questions erupting from the other pirates as they whipped their heads towards their youngest comrade went completely ignored. He scampered away from them, lunging towards a shadowed alley and hiding behind a teetering pile of musty boxes. A stray cat nuzzled against his leg, but Jungkook merely shooed it away with a frustrated glare and not-so-subtle shushing gestures.

What a fool I am, the young buccaneer berated himself, pressing a knuckle against his temple in frustration. He waited for another minute, before slinking out from the shadows, peering around the corner to see if you were still there.

No sign of you. Relief seized his chest, but not without the gentlest flower of disappointment staining whatever solace he felt, a weed amongst the roses. Jungkook’s mind was still reeling from the fact that you were wearing his pearls.

Treading carefully, he strode out of the alley, turning the other direction before halting in his tracks completely. A queer, garbled noise tumbled past his lips.

It was you, a confused smile gracing your features, and all Jungkook could think about was how the sunlight was made for you, how you glowed in front of him, how he wanted to cradle you into his chest and murmur confessions of his pure, unadulterated love into your ear. But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead, he merely stood there, as if he was imitating a statue in all of his pirate glory. Terrified, regretful, and ever so angry at himself.

Fate was a cruel game.

The pearls shone prettily on your skin. A reminder of the best mistake he’s ever made.

Your eyes had yet to wander down to fully take in his appearance, for your expression still held fondness for the man that’s visited your bakery so often, still having no idea that he was a filthy pirate, locked into his molten gaze. “I think you dropped something…?” The golden chains dangled loose between your fingers as you held them out to him. Jungkook didn’t take them, frozen on the spot.

It was as if he could pinpoint the exact moment you found out his true origins. Your brows furrowed upon seeing the weaponry strapped onto him, one of his pirate tattoos on display (Jungkook cursed himself for not thinking of rolling his sleeve back down), and the six other men watching in silent despondency behind them. You had always been a sharp one, far too smart for your own good.

Or, perhaps, it's always been obvious. Jungkook was only wishing for the impossible.

“You’re a pirate.”

The statement wedged a stake into his chest, splintering his heart into pieces. When you stepped away from him, confused horror marring your beautiful features, Jungkook knew that it was over.

He lost you.

A flurry of emotions, overwhelming and tumultuous, evidently took over you at his lack of denial. You looked to be just as heartbroken as he was.

“You’re a pirate,” you repeated, dazed. You wanted him to say something, anything. Much to his surprise, you didn’t sound angry. You took several steps back this time. The weight of pearls around your neck suddenly felt choking.

The sudden calling of his name had his head whipping around to look at his captain, watching the brutal exchange with gentle sternness. “We have to go.” The guards’ll be coming soon, no doubt.

Jungkook looked back to you, any and all words lodged in his throat. Despite the fear in your irises, a soft expression of acceptance folded over your visage, for under all his pirate exterior, he was still the same man that you thought so fondly of from your bakery. The look was short-lived however, quick to fade away when Jungkook reached out for you hesitantly. A part of him pondered how a simple baker managed to steal from the stealer. You had robbed him of his heart, and Jungkook didn’t even try to stop you.

Upon seeing you inch away in mortification at your new revelation, Jungkook retracted his arm and pursed his lips. The agony clawing at his stomach was begging to be set free. He wanted nothing more than to get onto his knees and plead for your forgiveness.

I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I’m not the man you thought I was. I’m sorry I fell in love with you.

His name came out again, this time from Yoongi. That meant it was serious.

“I’ll come back,” Jungkook said, tears rimming the bottom of his warm doe eyes. You watched him start to trek backwards. “I promise.” The words felt heavy on his tongue, like he was swallowing down a knot of thorned ivy.

Before you had the chance to say anything back, he was gone, bounding back to his ship with his comrades. Not long after, the distant barks of guards pursuing them rang throughout the village. You took that as your cue to leave. Swallowing down the urge to cry, you forced your eyes away.

You hoped he wouldn’t uphold his promise, for the both of your sakes.

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