#I love head wound city I love hot cross (they are one right) I love United Nations

[boy-armageddon]

supergroups are like avengers movies for people who care way too much about dumb bands

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 2

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: Thank you so much for all of your lovely comments on Part 1! I know many of you have questions, and I promise, all will be revealed in due time…

(Also, what do you guys think of new chapters releasing on Wednesdays and Sundays instead of just Fridays? A week is a long time, isn't it? 😂)

Song Inspo: “City Grown Willow” by Radio Company

Word Count: 5,200

Tags/Warnings: Tension, hurt/comfort, major angst, and more comfort of a different sort.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay

Tensions were running high at Sunny Day Excursions.

Over the next few days, Mary continued to press the issue of you staying in Montana with little passive aggressive comments that got on your damn nerves. You proverbially dug your heels in, and became even more stubborn and taciturn as a result.

Unstoppable force meets immovable object.

However, the entire camp was shaken the night Paige and Luke disappeared on a hike. Buck and Sunny assured everyone that they were doing their best to look for the couple, but come the morning, it was Emily who accidentally found Luke in the woods, bleeding from a head wound, and without Paige.

He claimed that they’d gone their separate ways after a fight, and he hadn’t seen her since. Paige’s suitcase and things were gone from her tent, so Sunny could only assume that she’d found her way back to camp and left for home by morning.

“Look, no one’s a prisoner here,” Sunny had said. “If Paige wanted to go home, then that’s up to her.��

There was still something off about it though, you felt. Emily seemed to share your thoughts; you’d heard her whispering with Avery, and Dan, another camper in his early 40s.

You started to watch Luke a bit harder from then on. As did your friend Mary, if for different reasons.

It was still early in the morning when you caught her flirting with Luke in front of your shared tent.

“A personal trainer, huh?” said Luke. His gaze flit over Mary’s form, and she allowed it with a smile. “You know, I’ve got a pretty good workout routine, but I’ll bet you can give me some tips—”

“Drink lots of water,” you said dryly as you approached the tent. You carried your sketchpad and acrylic paints in your hand, and you pushed into the tent without giving Luke and Mary more than a glance.

You heard Mary’s voice outside the tent, all girlish and flirtatious as she apologized about you, and suggested they could keep talking later. Luke readily agreed. You sat down on the edge of your bed and watched his silhouette walk away from the tent.

Mary soon joined you inside, and she didn’t look pleased. She stared down at you and crossed her arms.

“Are you kidding me with that shit?” you asked, gesturing at the scene you just saw.

“Could you be any more of a cockblock?” Mary shot back.

“Number one, that guy is a little too young for you, Cougar Town,” you reminded her. Luke had to be in his early 20s. It had been a hot minute since you and Mary were of college age. “Number two, he came here with his girlfriend, who he somehow lost in the woods.”

“She left him,” Mary said. “All alone in the middle of nowhere. Then she took off and went home so she didn’t have to deal with what she did. I feel bad for him.”

“No, you’re horny for him. There’s a difference,” you said flatly.

You loved Mary like a sister, but she had the tendency to let guys blind her to good sense. (Ha. Pot calling the kettle black, came your self-deprecation.)

Though you could’ve predicted the way she huffed and walked away, once again leaving you alone. You sighed.

Wasn’t this vacation for us? you wondered.

Mary continued to bait Luke with coy flirtation, while you tried and failed to ride a horse again. Cormack had been kind and encouraging in trying to help you onto the creature, but once you were on its back, you were too afraid to let the horse move.

You felt like you were going to topple off at any moment, even with Beau Arlen’s advice. (Which still made you blush whenever you thought about it.)

So Cormack helped you down, and you went back to the mess tent for a mid-afternoon snack to make you feel better: a giant jelly donut.

You were really getting frustrated with yourself now.

“It’s not so hard,” Emily had said. You could imagine that her dad, the cowboy sheriff, had put her on a horse from the time she was a little kid. You were a city girl, through and through. The closest you’d ever gotten to riding a horse was a plastic one—a carousel at a carnival when you were six. 

While you finished off your donut, you realized that you’d spent the whole day alone. As frustrated as you were with Mary, she was your best friend. And after this week, you would be staying and she would be going back to Chicago. You didn’t know when you would get to see her again.

So with a sigh, you wiped your hands free of donut icing and went to try and find her.

You started with the tent you shared with her. “Hey, Mary? Look I—”

You gasped when, upon entering the tent, you got your eyes seared. Mary and Luke were tangled together under the sheets. He moved off of your friend and rolled onto his back next to her when you came in. Mary uttered your name in shock. Everyone was shocked, really.

You were that, and angry.

“Really?! In our goddamn bed?” you shouted. Your gaze focused on Luke, and you pointed at him. “Get the hell out of here.”

He hesitated slightly, glancing at Mary, but your furious look scared him more. He grabbed his boxers and got dressed under the sheets before he left the bed, and then fled the tent, giving you a wide berth on his way out.

You then focused on Mary, who somehow looked both contrite and irritated at being interrupted. She said your name in a placating way, but you shook your head.

“No. No. Don’t even try,” you said. “That guy’s girlfriend left him in the middle of a vacation! What does that tell you? Please, screw me?”

“You know what?” Mary snapped. She sat up in the bed, making sure to cover herself with the sheet. She leaned over to grab her clothes from the floor and started hastily getting dressed.

“Luke’s actually a nice guy," she said. "You used to know how to have fun. But now you’ve just become this bitter person who can’t relax or let yourself be happy, let alone anyone else.”

That actually struck you—like a physical blow to your chest. You tried to blink past the sting of tears in your eyes.

“You’re a damn child,” you said, steadier than you felt. “You’re not the one who had your whole world imploded.”

Mary’s lips pursed. She still looked angry, but also like she was hiding the sting of guilt. She gathered up some of her things and informed you that she’d be staying at Luke’s tent tonight.

Freakin’ fine by you.

You’d also have to request some new bed sheets from Sunny.

In the morning, you stumbled out of bed after a rough night’s sleep. It was hard for you to sleep in a new place by yourself, especially out here in the woods.

Especially after how you and Mary left things.

You were so tired, you counted it a small blessing that you were able to put on clothes and get your hair into some kind of normalcy before you trekked over to the mess tent.

There you accidentally overheard Avery and Emily arguing; she’d lost her knife in the woods when she’d happened upon Luke, but Avery was reluctant to let her go hiking by herself. Apparently, her mother was due to join them this morning as well.

It seemed like the day of late comers though. A new married couple, Tonya and Donno, had arrived late yesterday to join the trip. They’d requested a tent at the far end of the camp, closest to the woods. Apparently, they wanted to really experience nature.

All you knew was, they seemed a bit weird.

“That knife’s important. My father gave it to me,” Emily said, interrupting your thoughts.

It made Avery quiet, but they both greeted you more pleasantly when you had to walk by them to get to the coffee.

“Hey, sorry,” you gave a little wave in embarrassment. You hated interrupting moments that had nothing to do with you, but you supposed it was unavoidable in this camp.

Once you’d gotten your coffee and filled your plate with some eggs and bacon, you joined them at the table. You pretended not to notice the way they both glanced at you with measures of concern. Did you really look that bad?

Avery wisely didn’t comment. Emily wasn’t as good at curbing her inner filter.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked. You gave her a thin smile.

“Just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep so well,” you admitted.

Of course, that was when the reason for your bedraggled appearance strolled into the mess tent. Mary came in and noticed Avery and Emily first with a smile. It turned frosty when she glanced at you. You gave her a mocking “smile” right back.

She chose to ignore you and went for the buffet table instead.

Right, you thought. You supposed that was how it was going to be for the rest of this damn trip.

“All righty! Good mornin’, folks,” Sunny said, entering the mess tent. She surveyed all the faces gathered—some relaxed and jovial, and then your table, a bit awkward, a bit tense.

She moved on with a smile that matched her name and her shiny red hair.

“Just lettin’ you all know as a reminder, we’ve got a bunch of activities for you all if there are any takers. Archery, kayaking, it’s gonna be a great time,” she said. “But if you prefer, you’re welcome to keep to the camp have a more relaxed day. It’s your vacation, so it’s up to you how you wanna spend it.”

You all nodded in understanding.

It’s your vacation. You choose how you spend it.

That, you could get on board with.

You spent the rest of the morning alone, as usual. Either you were reading in the outdoor lounge area, taking in the sunshine and the fresh air, or you were painting, taking in the landscape of the tall trees and the great, big mountains peeking out from behind them.

You earned yourself some peace today, one that let you breathe and try to tune out your frustrations with Mary, and your worries about the future. You hummed along to a melody in your mind as you painted. Completely at peace…

Until a hand tapped on your shoulder, making you yelp and sending your paintbrush high in the air.

Cormack came into your line of vision with a barely stifled laugh and placating hands. While you took out your earbuds (and calmed your breathing), he grabbed your brush and handed it back to you.

“Sorry about that. Just wanted to let you know that lunch is served,” he said, though he took a glance at your painting. “Hey, lookin’ real good there. Nice landscape.”

You let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Aw, you don’t have to be so nice. I’m still learning.”

He crossed his arms. “Well, if you’re interested in taking classes, I know someone who runs an art studio in town. Miss Peggy. Nice lady. Not too harsh.”

You laughed more genuinely.

“Good to know, thanks! Send me the address and I’ll check it out,” you said. Cormack agreed with a smile, and he helped you up from the long couch you were sitting on. The two of you walked back together to the central part of the camp, where the mess tent was.

There you met Emily’s mother, Carla, who’d just joined her family at the camp. She wasn’t exactly dressed for camping in her pressed blouse and pencil skirt; professional and smart, her long dark hair a perfect coil.

This woman was immaculate. As you soon learned, she was also a lawyer. You didn’t often feel intimidated by other women, but she could fit that bill, considering you were sweaty and dusty in your plain V-necked shirt and jeans.

And especially knowing that this was Sheriff Arlen’s ex-wife. Avery seemed like the “wealthy businessman” type—the kind of man you’d expect a high-powered lawyer to be with. You found yourself wondering how she’d met the sheriff.

That’s none of your busineeeess, you sing-songed in your mind, while you speared more salad on your plate. As if that could disguise the juicy brisket burger right beside it.

After lunch, you returned to your tent to finally find Mary. She was lying on the bed, looking a bit listless.

“I’m surprised you’re not attached to Luke’s hip,” you remarked, setting down your backpack and paint supplies on the floor. “Or his face.”

She shot you a peeved look. “He keeps ditching me for that weird new couple. Tonya and Donner or something.”

“Donno?” you supplied. “Yeah, he’s weird. He stole the ketchup bottle from the breakfast table this morning. He told me, ‘You shouldn’t ruin good eggs with sugary tomato paste.’”

Mary raised a brow, but she turned to you when you sat down beside her on the bed. There was a moment of tension between you, even though your gazes were softer to each other. The truth was, you missed your friend today. You guys didn’t fight often, and it had you hurting. Maybe she felt the same way.

“Listen,” you said with a sigh. “I’m not sorry for throwing Luke out of our tent. That was gross as hell, and I didn’t appreciate that. But I don’t want to fight with you. I want to enjoy our last few days together before you go back to Chicago.”

Mary’s lips pursed, but she seemed to relent.

“Yeah, that was a bitch move,” she admitted. She knew full well that her tryst with Luke could’ve happened in his tent, not the one she shared with you. She met your gaze with more resignation, as well as apology.

“You’re really staying here, aren’t you?” she asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I am. I’m not saying there’s nothing for me back home. Of course I’m going to miss you, our friends, the rest of my family…but I need to do this. I need a fresh start.”

It took her a moment, but Mary nodded. She reached over and hugged you. You held her back tightly.

After a beat, she let you go and slid out of bed.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I need to do something. I’m going stir crazy in here.”

“Where’re you going?” you asked.

“Just for a run,” she replied. “I should be back by dinner.”

“A run?” you repeated, your brows furrowing. “In the woods by yourself? Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

“Well, you could come with me,” she offered. You grimaced. You and running didn’t mix. You were more of a yoga girl.

Mary laughed and finished changing into her activewear and sneakers.

“That’s what I thought,” she said. “No worries, I’ll have my phone if anything. I’ll be okay.”

“But your cell won’t have service out there!” you said.

Mary was already leaving. She blew you a kiss goodbye, though she did stop in the tent’s entryway. Her face sobered with a sincere apology.

“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back, clear my head.”

You were reluctant to see her go, but you nodded.

“Just be back in time for dinner!” you called after her.

Mary wasn’t back for dinner. Even after the sun set, she hadn’t come back from her run. You were really beginning to worry.

All the other campers were gathering up at the edge of camp for a Night Hike. It was an idea Buck and Sunny surprised you all with a few hours ago. You wondered if they were trying to make up for the strange way Paige left the camp.

“The moon’s full tonight,” as Sunny had said, with a slightly too bright smile. “Should be a beautiful time.”

You asked some of the others if they’d seen Mary, but they all replied negatively. Even Luke was nowhere to be found…but someone else was missing too.

“I still can’t believe you let her go into the woods alone,” Carla snapped at her husband.

Avery’s frown deepened. “I had no idea she went off by herself. You know your daughter. She’s headstrong—”

“Yeah, just like her father,” Carla muttered, turning away from him. Avery sighed.

You couldn’t help but approach them.

“Emily’s missing?" you said in concern. "Mary is too. I’ve been waiting for her to come back all afternoon.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Carla said. She frowned as anxiety continued to well up in her eyes. “Maybe they found each other.”

You touched her arm in comfort. “Either way, we can all look for them now.”

Sunny came up to the group with a flashlight and a smile.

“Everyone ready?” she asked.

“Mary’s missing,” you told her, “And so is Emily. Mary went on a run this morning and hasn’t been back since.”

Sunny inclined her head. After she surveyed the rest of the crowd, she settled back on you.

“I see Luke’s not among us either. Maybe they’re together?” she suggested, in a leading tone. You frowned.

“No, she left alone,” you said firmly.

“Don’t mean she stayed alone, darlin’,” Sunny replied, with that Oklahoma twang that so often made her words more charming. “But we’ll be sure to look for her and Emily while we’re out there.”

Carla shook her head and said to her husband, “That’s it. I’m calling Beau.”

“Darling, you don’t need to,” Avery replied, shaking his head. “Emily’s a responsible girl. She knows what time we’re meant to leave—”

Carla shook her head and walked past him and Sunny—towards the hotspot for cell service. You agreed with her; calling the sheriff couldn’t hurt, especially if you all couldn’t find Mary or Emily on this hike.

You still went with the rest of them to start your own search. You tried to keep with the group, but after lingering in certain spots to call for Mary, you eventually realized that you’d lost the trail—and everyone else.

The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.

“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.

Now you were lost.

You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.

Shiiiit. This was very bad.

You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.

The panic was back now, full force, and you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. And when you turned another corner, you screamed when you bumped into someone.

A girl’s scream echoed just as loudly as yours in the big, empty wood, but you got ahold of yourself, literally with a hand over your wildly beating heart when you realized who you’d run into.

“Emily!” you uttered. The girl let out a breath of relief to see you too. You went to her and pulled her into a hug, and she hugged you back.

“Thank. God,” she said. Her voice sounded tight with emotion, and you held her a bit tighter.

“It’s okay,” you rubbed her back. “How long’ve you been out here?”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, pulling away from you. “Couple of hours? Maybe longer.”

You nodded and expelled a breath. Poor thing looked tired. She didn’t even have any supplies with her. You gave her a protein bar from your backpack before you two started walking.

“So the good news is, we found each other. The bad news is, we’re still lost,” you said, counting each item on your fingers. “But the good news also is, I’ve only been walking for about…half an hour or so. I’m thinking we can mark trees or other landmarks as we pass them, like checking them off, so we know where we’ve been.”

Emily glanced at you with a smile. “You’re a checklist person, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely!” you agreed. “Checking things off is satisfying. But it’s also good just to take an inventory of where we’re at.”

You two kept walking for a while. Emily explained that she’d been following Luke, who took off by himself after giving her an ominous warning.

“There are some bad people on this trip. Want my advice? Get the hell out of here,” he’d said.

You frowned in concern. You’d felt that there was something fishy about that guy, pretty much from the moment he and Paige disappeared on that hike. Those newcomers he’d been hanging out with ever since, Tonya and Donno…maybe they had something to do with it.

They’d left camp today to go into town, claiming to check on the restaurant they owned and ran. But with everything now starting to come into perspective, you couldn’t take any piece of information at face value around here.

Suddenly, Emily stopped short.

“What’s…” Your words trailed as you followed her line of vision. There was a frilly pair of underwear on the ground.

That led to a hoodie strewn in the dirt and dead leaves. You continued on, until you found Mary, lying on her back on the cold ground. You and Emily gasped her name, but you moved first, dropping to your knees at Mary’s side. You pressed a hand to her cheek and found it cold.

You moved two fingers to the pulse point at her neck, but there was nothing. No life in her. Your mouth fell open in a silent, shocked cry.

“Mary? Honey, can you hear me?” you tried, shaking her shoulders. When she remained unresponsive, tears burned in your eyes and blurred your vision. You finally saw a dark patch of wet pooled out from under her body.

“Oh my God,” Emily said, voicing your thoughts. She was panicked. “Oh God, she’s…she’s…”

You turned to her and wanted to say, Don’t look.

You had briefly taught highschoolers before you became a college professor. You were used to looking out for your students, and as the adult here, you wanted to shield the teen from the sight of this, no matter how much your mind was spinning.

Before you could say anything, Emily fled the clearing with a scream.

“Emily!” you shouted after her. You glanced back at Mary in desperation, but you forced yourself onto your feet and ran after the girl.

You had slightly longer legs, but she was fast. You only caught up to her because she screamed louder, after running into Buck leading a horse through the woods. She grabbed onto him while you caught your breath behind her.

“What? What happened?” Buck asked. You laid a supportive hand on Emily’s shoulder, and she turned back to you with tearful eyes.

“Mary,” you managed, despite the coarseness in your voice. “She’s…”

This isn’t real, you thought. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

“She’s dead,” Emily finished for you. “Someone killed her.”

Buck’s eyes widened in shock. All he could say was…

“Show me.”

Buck brought Mary’s body back to camp on the back of his horse. The three of you walked in silence all the way there. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her lifeless body. It was wrong. And if you did, you knew you’d collapse.

Emily was likely in shock as well. Her arm was looped through yours, though you weren’t sure who was steadying who.

Thanks to Carla, the police were already on the way to Sunny Day Excursions. When you reached the camp, Carla beelined for her daughter. Despite how happy she was to see her mom, Emily was a bit reluctant to let go of you, seeing how shaken you were, but you encouraged her wordless to go to her mother.

Carla pulled Emily into a tight hug, kissing the side of her head, and asked if she was all right. Emily just shook her head and pressed her face into her mom’s shoulder. Carla looked up at you with a relieved sigh.

“Thank you,” she said.

You gave her teary smile of your own. You couldn’t speak though, especially when Buck passed by with Mary still on the back of his horse. Sunny gasped and grabbed a blanket to cover the body with.

She then went to you, whispering, “You poor dear. Come ‘ere, sit by the fire.”

She covered your shoulders with another blanket and steered you to sit by the bonfire in the center of camp. You stayed there and stared at the flames. All the while, you didn’t feel the warmth. You didn’t feel the silent tears that slid down your face and dropped into your lap.

“Where’s Luke?” you heard Avery ask.

“That’s a good question,” said Sunny. She turned to her husband. “Buck?”

“I don’t know, but somebody better find him,” he replied grimly.

It was another hour before the police arrived.

You still hadn’t moved from your spot in front of the bonfire on a hard bench, but it was Cormack who gently asked you if you wanted to go back to your tent to relax until the police got around to talking to you about what happened.

You’d agreed, silently, and he helped you up. But you found that you could go no further than the couple of steps that brought you onto the platform outside of your tent. The tent you’d shared with Mary.

You couldn’t go in, and Cormack seemed to realize that. He helped you lower down to sit on the platform, with your dirty sneakers planted on the step below. He gave you a cup of hot tea as well, which you held with both hands and sipped slowly.

You only raised your head when you heard Emily’s voice exclaim in happiness. You watched her run to her father, the Sheriff. He welcomed his daughter into his arms and held her tight. Relief was painted all over his face. You heard the rumble of his voice asking her if she was all right. She just burrowed closer in the safety of his arms.

A blonde policewoman had come with him, along with a whole unit of officers. She went to question Buck and Sunny first, while Beau handled Emily, then Avery and Carla. It didn’t seem like a pleasant conversation, between the two men especially.

Don’t stare, you reminded yourself. You lowered your gaze to the dusty bottom stair between your feet. Your vision started to glaze over the longer you focused on that spot. You weren’t lost in thought. You were just…blank. This entire night still didn’t feel real.

Mary’s last words kept ringing through your mind…

“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she’d said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back.”

You were interrupted from your reverie when two brown boots entered your line of vision. You looked up, and Beau Arlen was there to greet you with a look of sympathy. And yet, there was a professional set to his face that let you know you were about to be formally questioned about Mary’s death.

“Is that spot taken?” Beau asked, pointing to the space beside you on the platform. You shook your head and scooched over, so he could sit down. He sighed on his way there, greeting you with polite familiarity.

“Sheriff,” you nodded back. You set aside your mug of tea and crossed your arms, holding yourself against the chill.

You’d left the blanket by the bonfire, and your sweater had been stained with blood, after helping Buck set Mary’s body on the horse. You’d ripped the sweater off as soon as you got to camp, leaving you in just your undershirt.

“You need a jacket,” Beau remarked. He glanced back at your tent, as if he was wondering why you hadn’t gone inside to grab one. But his gaze was perceptive. Instead of asking, he shrugged out of his faux fur-lined leather jacket and draped it around your shoulders.

“Here, you can borrow this for now,” he said.

“Thank you,” you spoke in a small voice. You grasped one edge of the jacket and pulled it closer around you. It smelled like musky cologne and old leather.

Beau waved off his gesture of kindness.

“I hear you found my daughter in the woods and tried to get her back to camp,” he said. “Thank you for that.”

You glanced over at him, and tears once again shone in your eyes.

“I’m sorry she had to see…”

Beau’s gaze was heavy as he sighed and nodded again in agreement.

“I’m sorry you had to see it too,” he said. “And I’m sorry for your loss. For your friend.”

You took in a shuddering breath. New tears found familiar paths down your cheeks.

“Best friend, since college,” you said.

Beau took that in, before he asked you about the day’s events. You had to explain about Mary going missing first, then Emily, and finally Luke, who still hadn’t been found. You told everything you knew from your perspective.

When you were done, Beau reluctantly asked about the Mary and Luke situation. Your lips pursed, but your upset wasn’t at the sheriff. You knew he had to ask these questions.

“We argued about it,” you admitted. “Me and Mary. I warned her not to get involved with him, and the way Paige left camp was just one of many…but still, I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have let her go into the woods alone! I should’ve gone with her!”

By the end, your whole body wracked with sobs. You covered your face with your hands to try and get some semblance of composure, but you just couldn’t keep it together.

“Okay, okay,” Beau said gently. He laid a hand on your back and rubbed back and forth. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I am.”

You sucked in a few tremulous breaths, sniffling. You looked up at him with red, watery eyes. He gave you a half smile. 

“Sorry,” he repeated, this time for the endearment. “Like I said, got a bad habit of doin’ that.”

You shook your head with a weak curve of your lips, despite how your lower lip wobbled. 

“It’s okay,” you said. 

But it wasn’t. Nothing was. 

You didn’t think you’d ever be okay again.

AN: 😥 I'm sorry about Mary, but I promise, it's all for a purpose, besides following canon. But let me know what you think! There will be much more of the reader and Beau in the next chapter, though you may not expect how their next meeting comes about...

Next Time:

“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”

Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.

Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.

“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice. 

You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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[chaotic-orphan]

Delirious Villain x Hero Caretaker (4)

TW: family abuse, abusive older brother, sick fic, sick whumpee, weak whumpee, PTSD, whumpee afraid of being sick, neglect, vomit mentions, flu-like symptoms, violence, rough beating, callous whumper, sadistic whumper

Read part one here // continued from here

This part is dedicated to @sausages-things!!! Thank you for your comments, I hope you enjoy!!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hero woke up in the same position they went to sleep in, Villain in their arms cuddling into their chest. They smiled at Villain who was still sleeping soundly for the first time in days. No late-night vomit trips to the toilet, or night terrors, or throwing the blankets off and stripping to fight the cold sweats. Hero let out a soft sigh. They could stay like this forever.

They pressed the back of their fingers against Villain’s forehead. No fever. He wasn't terribly hot or cold, just warm — a normal, human temperature. Hero let out a breath of relief. Then started carding their fingers through Villain’s hair, pushing the damp strands off their lover’s face. Villain even looked less pale, raising Hero’s spirits that hopefully Villain would be on the mend after all the heartache of the last few days.

Hero’s phone rang from somewhere in the house and Hero stifled a groan. They really didn’t want to move or disturb Villain in their arms. Maybe if they ignored it, the caller would give up on their endeavour and Hero could stay in bed with Villain. Besides, it wasn’t anyone important. Hero booked time off in work so they could wait on Villain hand and foot, look after everything Villain couldn’t. It’s what partners were for, to be there for each other.

The ringtone stopped and Hero smiled, glancing down at Villain again. Their peace only lasted a fraction of a second, before their phone started ringing again. Hero seriously contemplated waiting it out, but what if it was something important? What if some new villain was decimating an entire city block? Villain would understand if Hero had to go and stop them.

Well, understand, yes, but Villain wouldn't let Hero go alone. Hero blushed as they remembered the last time they tried to leave to stop a new villain fresh in the city.

“I really have to go, Vil.”

Villain slammed his hand out on the opposing wall, stopping Hero from leaving Villain's room, back when they were initially dating. Hero rolled their eyes at Villain, crossing their arms across their chest.

“What if I say no?”

“Villain—”

“What if,” Villain continued, stepping in front of Hero and crowding them so Hero was pushed back a step. “There is another villain who wants your complete attention?"

“Is this same villain acting like a complete child right now?”

Villain chuckled in reply. The deep chuckle that wound a knot in Hero’s stomach and set their heart aflutter. He forced Hero back a step, then another until Hero was backed against the wall.

“Vil—”

Villain reached a hand up to cup Hero’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting their head up to look Villain in the eyes. “Do I have to threaten an orphanage, or kidnap the mayor to get an ounce of your attention?”

“I’ve given you attention all night.”

“I don’t like sharing,” Villain said, stepping forward and closing all remaining distance between them. “What if you chat with this new villain and he sweeps you off your feet?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hero said, ignoring the sudden, breathless quality of their voice.

“Am I? That’s what happened with you and me.”

Hero grabbed Villain’s wrist, not trying to dislodge his hold on Hero, but instead rubbing soothing circles over it, their other hand reaching to Villain’s cheek.

“This new villain isn’t you.”

“Damn right he isn’t.” Villain all but growled, smashing his lips to Hero’s, melting any words that still lingered on Hero’s tongue. The kiss was hungry, Villain deepening it quickly, forcing Hero’s head back against the wall when Hero tried to return the passion. This wasn’t a loving kiss, it was passionate, possessory. Villain showing Hero exactly who they belonged to; drawing a distinct line between Villain and all other villains that Hero had to fight.

Villain pulled back, pecking Hero once more before he nodded and stepped back. Hero blinked dazed up at Villain. Villain smiled wolfishly down at Hero, a flash of white and smouldering eyes.

“Come on, Hero. We have a villain to get rid of.”

Hero nodded stupidly, then shook their head, eyes narrowing as clarity hit them like a smack in the face. “Wait! What? You’re coming?! What if someone sees?! What if they—”

“What if they somehow think we’re dating? Darling, I’m not suggesting we arrive at the same time. You can swoop in, save the day, be the Hero I adore,” Villain said, brushing a stray hair from Hero’s eyes. “And I will dispose of this new villain once you rescue the hostages, hmm?”

“Villain—”

“I do love it when you say my name.”

“I don’t want you to kill—”

“Who said anything about killing, my dear? I’ll simply share my experiences and push them down the path of the righteous. To use their powers for good.”

Hero agreed at the time, but the other villain from that night never showed up again, and Hero didn’t think it was from Villain’s persuasive argument.

Hero cursed under their breath before slowly disentangling themselves from Villain and slipping out of bed unnoticed. Villain stirred briefly, but just snuggled into the pillow Hero was leaning on and settled again. Hero held back a groan as they opened the door to their bedroom and quickly shut it again so the noise wouldn’t disturb Villain.

Hero marched towards the counter, grabbing their phone and yanking it off charge, not even bothering to look at the caller ID when they barked: “what?”

“Hero! I’ve been trying to reach you for the last twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, Superhero,” Hero said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose, leaning heavily against the counter. “Listen, I have the rest of this week booked off.”

“I know, but Hero I need you.”

“Get Other Hero.”

“Have you not watched the news?” Superhero asked, almost heartbroken down the line. Hero’s heart seized in their chest. “Hero… Supervillain struck again last night. Other Hero and Sidekick were out on patrol when—” Superhero’s voice caught, and Hero lurched forward. “They… uh… they don’t think Sidekick’s gonna make it, Hero.”

“What?” Hero whispered.

“Please,” Superhero pleaded. “There’s not enough— I need you here, Hero. Or even to protect —”

“Of… of course, Superhero. I’m, I’ll be twenty minutes, but I’ll be there, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry. I know that your partner—”

“It’s okay,” Hero cut in. “Honestly, Superhero. Twenty minutes.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll see you then.”

Hero cursed checking the time. They had to get ready. They had to leave Villain a note or something, shit they had to get ready. They paused at the door to their bedroom, not wanting to wake Villain up. They pivoted on their heel, turning to the laundry room and praying that — yes! Clean clothes! Perfect. They wouldn’t have to disturb Villain at all, and Villain could get the rest he needed.

Hero was pulling on their runner, half hopping around the living room, eyes scouring every inch of the place for the other one. Their eyes drifted back to their bedroom door and cursed under their breath. They didn’t have time to worry about it, it would be fine. Just in and out, and oh fuck they needed their keys to get back in.

“Hero?” Villain asked the moment Hero stepped into the room. Bleary eyes raised above the duvet to Hero who was frozen mid-air reaching for their runner. Hero smiled bashfully at Villain and straightened, apologising as they walked over to the bed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know I said that I had booked time off but something big happened and Superhero called, and he needs—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Villain said softly, putting his hand on Hero’s arm. “Don’t worry about me, I’m feeling loads better.”

Hero almost let out a sigh of relief. “Are you? Or are you just saying that, so I’ll go like yesterday?”

“Hero—”

“Villain.”

As if to make his point, Villain sat up in the bed and leaned over to kiss Hero’s knuckles. “Hey, crimefighter. Look, I’m fine. I feel great.” Hero tilted their head, and Villain pressed on, “you are going to miss a lot of sexy sleeping while you’re gone, though.”

Hero laughed.

“I’m serious,” Villain told them. “Oh, I’m gonna have a day in bed, full of sexy snots in tissues and shitty daytime TV, oh, how will I survive without you?”

“You’re such an idiot,” Hero told them smiling. Villain’s hand tightened in Hero’s.

“I’m your idiot.” Villain replied. “I’ll order soup or food or whatever, I’ll be fine until your home.”

“But if it’s a new Supervillain—” that meant long hours and possibly working multiple shifts to—

Villain’s gaze hardened as he cut in, “I’ll be fine. Go. You saved me yesterday; I can’t hog the city’s Hero twice in a week.”

“What about that time you held me captive in that warehouse?”

Villain’s cocky smile made an appearance on his tired face. It didn’t make as much as an impression as it usually did, with the bags under Villain’s red rimmed eyes and his pale, lacklustre skin. “Darling, that was a weekend getaway for the two of us.”

Hero leaned in and kissed Villain’s forehead. “If you need me, call.”

“I will.”

“Okay, I love you,” Hero said, gathering everything they needed as they left.

Villain reclined back into the pillows on their bed. “I love you too.”

*~*~*~*~*

Hero went straight to the Hero tower, rushing in and bolting to the lift, heading straight for Superhero’s office. When they got to the floor, Hero speed walked the corridor until they found Superhero in his office. His desk was in disarray, holding his head in his hands as Hero opened the door.

“Superhero.” Superhero looked up.

“Hero,” Superhero said, getting to his feet and walking around his desk. “Thank God you’re here. I’m so sorry about your partner. I just—”

“Nevermind that now,” Hero said with a wave. “What can I do? How can I help? You’re not usually this stressed. Tell me everything.”

“It was just — there was no rumours or hints at anything yesterday, or in the past month. It wasn’t disturbingly quiet or unusual, so we thought that it would just be a regular patrol, but Other Hero and Sidekick were hurt bad and they’re in the hospital getting treated…”

“Do you know what villain did this?”

Superhero’s eyes hardened. “I don’t know for sure. It could be a new Supervillain for all we know, but it reminded me a bit of Villain’s MO as well.”

Hero stiffened, a furrow forming between their brows. No way could it have been Villain, they’re home, sick in bed and Hero spent the entire night with them.

“Oh?” Hero asked. “Have you been to the hospital?”

Superhero shook his head. “I’ve been too caught up here. All I know is scraps from other heroes reports but I need someone I can trust to guard them.”

Hero’s frown deepened. “You don’t think a hero had anything to do with it, do you?”

Superhero’s eyes were desperate as he shrugged helplessly, turning to scan the papers on his desk. “I don’t know, Hero. I don’t want to rule out the possibility that a villain may have charmed one of us and somehow manipulated us to give up sensitive information like patrols or something.”

Hero was glad Superhero had his back to them, otherwise he would have seen the pain that crossed Hero’s expression. Villain… Villain would never do that to Hero, would he? He wouldn’t— I mean, Hero knew Villain wasn’t— he wasn’t friendly with other villains, so Villain wouldn’t betray Hero like that. Never.

“I’ll go to the hospital,” Hero said, voice firm. “I’ll get some of the heroes I trust most and recruit them as well. I won’t let anything happen to Other Hero or sidekick; I promise.”

Superhero turned and smiled. He placed a hand on Hero’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Thank you, Hero. You are one of the only heroes I trust would never converse with a villain. That will help everything run smoother here.”

“Of course, Superhero.” Hero forced out, guilt threatening to clog their words. They left as quickly as they had come, leaving Superhero’s office in a flash, back down the corridor to the lift. It was empty when it arrived, something Hero was grateful for. The moment the doors closed they pressed their back flush against the wall, taking in deep breaths. Unaware of who was watching them through the camera in the corner.

*~*~*~*~*

Superhero straightened once he heard the lift doors close at the end of the hall. He walked around his desk and looked at the Hero in the lift through the cameras. Eyes hard as Hero leaned back against the wall, hands braced on their knees. How had he not seen this before? Why had he trusted Hero of all people?! And somehow Villain wormed his way into Hero’s life?! He waited until Hero stepped out of the lift before he switched his computer screen from the cameras and stood from his desk.

He schooled his expression and stepped out of his office. He said to Number Two Hero: “I need to head out, will you hold down the fort while I’m gone?”

“Of course, Sir.”

Superhero thanked them and walked down the corridor to the lift. He needed to pay Villain a little, friendly visit.

*~*~*~*~*

Villain peeled themselves out of bed, skin sticky with sweat. His nose turned up as he caught a whiff of himself and he almost gagged. A shower before anything else was necessary.

He could almost hear Hero telling him that he shouldn’t take a shower, that he’s too weak and what if he slipped or passed out and the water was too hot — and a whole host of other problems that Hero could foresee. Villain smiled softly to himself as he locked the bathroom door.

He was lucky to have them.

*~*~*~*~*

Superhero told Hero that Other Hero and Sidekick were being treated at West-Point General Hospital, which was a pain to get to. It was on the edge of the city and took a forty-minute train to get there and back to the Hero tower, nevermind Hero’s apartment.

They shot Villain a text, informing him that they’d be late home. They hesitated to say the reason: the words: ‘Other Hero and Sidekick were attacked’ stared up at them on the screen. Hatefully, suspicion curled viciously like a snake in Hero’s chest, Superhero’s words of warning.

Villain would never betray me, Hero told themselves. Work and their relationship were completely different for them both.

If that’s true, a nasty voice piped up, why did you delete the explanation?

Hero swallowed thickly and shoved their phone into their pocket.

*~*~*~*~*

Villain let out a sigh of relief once the hot water hit his aching muscles, it felt so good. As if the sickness was being rinsed from his body. He glanced around the bathroom, half-expecting the apparition of his brother to appear again.

No, Villain reminded himself, shaking his head as if he could shake the memory from his head. He’s not here. He’s not real. That was just a hallucination or something. Still, Villain crossed his arms across himself in a self-hug under the warm water.

He pressed his forehead against the cool tile, hoping Hero came home sooner rather than later.

*~*~*~*~*

Hero walked to the reception desk, putting on their best charming smile. “Hi, I’m looking for Other Hero and Sidekick.”

Receptionist nodded and tapped on his keyboard. “Third floor. Room 316.”

“Thank you.”

Hero kept their eyes peeled as they ascended the stairs, looking out for any suspicious characters lurking around. When Hero got to the third floor, they followed the signs towards room 316. The room was left unguarded, and Hero’s heart started to run a little faster in their chest as they approached.

They half expected a massacre in the room, but it was worse than Hero imagined. Only Other Hero lay in the bed, the other was vacant, the door opened. Hero rushed inside, looking for any clues or hints or something that would lead to the missing Sidekick.

Other Hero looked was hooked up to a bunch of monitors, half of her face was swollen with deep purple and black bruises. Some of the cuts had been stitched and a tube was inserted in her mouth.

A gun cocked behind Hero, and they froze. “Come to finish us off, have you?”

Hero frowned, looking over their shoulder to see Sidekick wobbling in the doorway. They didn’t look much better than Other Hero, leaning heavily on the doorframe to keep themselves up.

“Sidekick it’s Hero,” Hero said. At the sound of Hero’s voice, Sidekick thumbed the hammer forward and clicked the safety on, lowering their gun.

“Good, I don’t think I can make it back to the bed.”

Hero immediately went to them and threw an arm over their neck, supporting Sidekick’s weight as they guided them back to bed. “What happened? Why did you leave the bed?”

“I needed the loo,” Sidekick grumbled and hissed as they settled back onto the bed. Hero’s panicked eyes went to Sidekick’s side that was red with bloodstains.

“Who did this to you?” Hero asked as they straightened to further observe Sidekick.

Sidekick shook their head then winced. “We didn’t see them, or at least…” Sidekick glanced at Other Hero, “I don’t think we did,” they said quieter. “I know I didn’t, but I don’t know about Other Hero.”

Hero nodded sympathetically. “Did you get an idea of their abilities? Were they powered?”

“Whatever they were they were strong, Hero. Really fucking strong, and— and I couldn’t fight them. Every time I got close to them, they’d weave out of the way and punch me and send me reeling. Other Hero she at least got a couple of good hits in before he turned all his attention on her.”

Hero frowned, eyes going to Other Hero’s broken body. If what Sidekick was saying was true, then — “how did you survive?”

“What?”

“I don’t mean to be insensitive,” said Hero quickly. “I just — if your opponent was a beast of a thing, how did you both end up in hospital?”

Sidekick scoffed. “Halfway through the fight I radioed for Superhero to help us. He must’ve arrived after I passed out because the next thing, I know I’m here and Other Hero is strapped to machines to keep her fucking breathing.”

Sidekick dissolved into quiet sobs that shook their body, not willing to let any sound out. “I should’ve— I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve been able to— to—”

“It’s okay, Sidekick,” Hero told them gently.

Furious eyes flashed to Hero’s face. “You can’t say that! You don’t know what it’s like to be weak! To be beaten so badly that you can’t even move! I should have been able to protect her!”

Hero stood still, lips drawn down tight, not knowing what to say to comfort Sidekick. A voice at the door took their attention.

“Hero. A word.”

Hero turned, frown deepening at the owner of the voice. It was the number three Hero, Ajax. What the hell was he doing here? Hero followed him out, closing the door as they left the room. “What’re you doing here?” Hero asked before Ajax could speak.

“I’m here to watch over them. Make sure the villain they faced doesn’t come back to finish them off,” Ajax said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“But… Superhero sent me to do that.”

“Superhero? He already posted me; I told him I could do it alone. I’ve been itching to get away from the office to tell you the truth.”

Hero’s brows drew together, deep in thought. Why would Superhero send me all this way for no reason? Maybe Ajax needed some support?

“Ah, Hero!” Hero looked up and saw Briar’s smiling face meet theirs. “Paying a visit? How is your partner? I heard he was sick.”

Hero let a smile slide across their features. “Yeah, yeah. It looks like you two got it all covered though. My partner… I actually got to get back to him.”

“Of course,” Briar said, slapping Ajax on the back. “Me and the big guy got everything covered here.”

Ajax shot questioning eyes at Hero, but Hero couldn’t answer any themselves, so they didn’t. Hero nodded and said their goodbyes, before heading back for the train, trying to make sense of Superhero’s emergency call.

Maybe Superhero just forgot he posted other heroes to the hospital? Maybe he was just stressed out… whatever it was it didn’t really matter. It meant Hero could get home to Villain quicker than anticipated. Maybe Villain could help them make sense of this wild goose chase.

Hero glanced at their phone when they got on the train, smiling at Villain’s reply they hadn’t seen until now. At least they were going home earlier and could relax with Villain at home, snuggled up under the blankets, maybe watch a movie or something.

*~*~*~*~*

Villain couldn’t keep the grin off his face after his shower as he towelled his hair dry. His body still ached; his limbs moved with a rust-like creaking, but he felt so much lighter after his shower. So much clearer and fresh.

He smiled as he glanced at their phone, Hero telling him that there was some soup in the fridge, and they might be longer than they initially thought. Villain stared at the words at the end of the text, I love you.

Such simple words that made more warmth bloom in his chest than the shower did. Villain text a quick reply before tossing his phone on the bed. He didn’t really want food right now, maybe some water or tea. He brushed his teeth before the shower to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth. He shuddered to think of it, happy it was over.

Villain ignored the idea of food or drink altogether and opted instead to take some painkillers and watch some TV on the sofa, cuddled up under the cow pattern blanket that smelled like Hero.

*~*~*~*~*

Hero stepped out of the lift of the Hero tower, walking towards Superhero’s office. They stopped outside it, but there was no Superhero. Hero frowned and turned, walking onto the map room floor. Second met their eye across the room, frowning as Hero made their way over.

“Hero? Aren’t you on leave?”

Hero frowned. “Yeah, but Superhero called me in. Have you seen them?”

“They went out,” Second told Hero.

“When?”

“About half an hour ago.”

“Do you know where?”

“No, but I didn’t ask.”

Hero nodded. “Right.”

*~*~*~*~*

Villain woke to the sound of the door being opened. He hadn’t realised that he had fallen asleep.

“Hero?” He mumbled, not opening his eyes yet as the door closed. Judge Judy played softly in the background until it was turned off. He felt Hero’s stare on him, sitting down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Villain cracked an eye open, vision blurry with sleep, but he immediately knew that that wasn’t Hero. Villain jerked back on the couch, blinking themselves awake.

No, no, no, no, no, no…. Why was he having hallucinations again? He felt so much better. Villain shook his head.

“You’re not real, you’re not real,” Villain said to himself.

“Oh, I think you’ll find I’m very real, Villain.”

Villain kicked out on instinct, his feet catching in the blanket he was tangled up in. Superhero chuckled. “You’re still so pathetic,” Superhero said leaning forward. Villain pushed at Superhero’s outstretched hand, eyes widening as it made contact.

“Wh— what?” Villain asked, his entire body shaking with a mixture of adrenaline and fear and groaning muscles. Superhero didn’t answer, instead he batted Villain’s hand away and grabbed Villain by the throat. Villain’s hands went to Superhero’s wrist, trying to pull it off, but Superhero pressed him back into the couch.

“When I heard that Hero was dating a villain, I was concerned, but to realise that that villain was you. Well, I can kill two birds with one stone.”

Villain tried to untangle himself from the blanket, but he was well and truly cocooned no matter how much he kicked.

“I’ve missed you, Villain. And to think you were here, in my city. Hiding under my nose for the longest time, in bed with my best Hero, you’re like a cockroach.”

Villain’s eyes widened in terror. “If you laid a hand on them—”

Superhero tilted his head. “You’ll what? Kick me?”

Before Villain could think to reply, Superhero punched him right in the solar plexus. Villain lurched forward, breath stolen, straight into Superhero’s palm who squeezed, cutting off his air supply.

“Let’s get a proper look at you, hmm?”

Villain barely had time to process the words when Superhero yanked him off the couch by their shirt and tossed him to the ground. Villain barely felt the impact as they rolled, gasping in air as he went, hands protectively curled around his stomach.

“I would’ve thought that Villain, the Villain would have more to offer me. Something formidable, but look at you,” Superhero said, following Villain’s retreat with heavy, deliberate footsteps. “Still as weak as ever. I could kill you right now and let Hero find your mangled corpse, and y’know what?”

Superhero sent a swift kick to Villain’s cheek, whipping Villain’s head to the side. Villain turned over onto his stomach, getting one hand under himself before there was a hand in his hair, yanking thim back.

Villain cried out, grabbing the hand, trying to alleviate the pressure, but Superhero didn’t let up. He pulled Villain back and up to his feet, shoving him forward. Villain’s hands shot out to catch himself on the wall before he fell again.

“There you go, let me get a good look at you,” Superhero said. Villain’s whole-body shook, his legs trembling, struggling to keep himself upright. His limbs ached, screaming at him to rest and relax, but Villain’s terror left him frozen. “Turn around.”

This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real, this isn’t real. This is just another hallucination, Superhero can’t be here, he can’t be… he can’t be…

Superhero’s voice dropped low, chilling Villain to the core. “Do I have to ask twice, or do you remember who’s in charge?”

Villain used the wall to turn themselves, facing Supervillain and staring him in the eyes. He refused to cower anymore.

“Hmm, so Hero’s been slumming it with you, have they?”

“Why?” Villain snapped. “Jealous?”

Superhero laughed, shaking their head slowly. “No,” he replied, tilting his head. “Though I’m sure my advances wouldn’t be refused.”

Villain grit their teeth. “You’re lying.” He was, but to see that flash of fear cross Villain’s face after so long was worth it.

“I just always pictured Hero with someone strong. Y’know, someone who could stand on their own two feet. Someone with a Hero’s physique, you? What, have you completely disregarded your training, or do you want to look like a complete failure?”

Villain shook his head, sweat clinging to the back of his neck as he stepped off the wall. He immediately regretted the decision and stumbled back, gritting his teeth as the world spun and tilted.

“We’re not kids anymore,” Villain said instead or rising to Superhero’s bait. “You don’t have any effect on me.”

“Is that so?”

Villain swallowed hard, humming his reply as Superhero started towards him, taking slow, deliberate steps that sent Villain’s heart racing.

“Because that’s not what I heard. I heard you begging your brother to leave you alone,” Superhero said, relishing the way all colour seemed to leave Villain’s face. “To stop, to beat you instead today, please, please, please.”

“Y—you h-heard that?” Villain asked with a timid voice as Superhero stopped in front of him.

“Oh yes, and I thought it was strange, because well, I wasn’t there, Vil. But don’t worry. Big bro’s here now, and we’re going to make you better.”

“No—” Villain protested, shooting his hand out. Superhero caught it by the wrist and twisted his arm before slamming it back against the wall. “No, no, no, no!”

“Don’t you want to be worthy of Hero? Don’t you love them enough to be perfect?”

“Hero loves me!” Villain cried, tears springing to his eyes as he struggled to get out of Superhero’s grip. But Superhero was too strong. Superhero was always stronger than Villain, and no matter how much Villain trained or wanted to forget it, he was right back where he ran away from. He was back as a kid, Brother overpowering him and staring back into his brother’s callous, dispassionate eyes. “Brother, please.”

Superhero brushed Villain’s hair from his forehead, gently hushing Villain. “Oh, Villain. We haven’t even started yet.” His eyes darkening. “But don’t worry. There’ll be plenty of time for begging later.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Continued here

[archangeldyke-all]

doing asks publicly makes me so nervous but i'm gonna do it anywayssss. i sent you a couple of asks but you said you didn't get it so im gonna send you this one that i've been thinking about for a hot minute-- i think its really cute like omgmgggg ANYWAYS

sevika with a younger (20s) vampire reader who watches her from afar and leaves her really pretty vintage looking gifts, romantic poems, and cute love notes? basically just the reader leaving stuff that sevi takes an interest in!! i'd love for this to be with a black reader if possible <3

this is so cuteeee!!

a quick note and disclaimer before we start! i don't know much about vampire lore, just the very basic stuff, so i apologize if this isn't the exact vampire vibe you were hoping for, or if i get some things wrong, i'm mostly just guessing hahah. also! i'm white, and i'll try my best to make this an obviously black reader without shoving it down your throat, but if i get anything wrong, please lmk and i'll fix it right away :)

men and minors dni

zaun is a great place for a vampire to live. sunlight rarely reaches the low levels of the city, leaving you free to roam whenever you want, day or night.

additionally, the abundance of crime and violence, as well as the lack of any real help from piltover, means that the occasional dead body (both human and animal) with puncture wounds in their necks go relavitely unnoticed.

it's these reasons that made you decide to settle down in zaun for a while.

it's sevika that made you decide to stay.

you've never met the woman, at least not traditionally, but that doesn't mean you don't know her.

the first time the two of you crossed paths was one late night in the dingy streets of the lanes.

you were starving, out searching for a rat or cat or maybe even a man harassing some poor girl to sink your fangs into. you had wandered away from your usual haunts and toward the newly re-furbished 'last drop.'

rumor had it that the new owner had some shady dealings on the side. you figured it'd be a good as place as any to catch a scumbag in action, or maybe find someone so drugged out on shimmer they wouldn't notice waking up the next morning with a pint of blood or so missing.

as you approached the bar, the few stragglers out this late grew into a rambunctious crowd. you grinned, ducking into a dark alley, licking your lips in anticipation of your next meal.

it took no time at all for you to find your target. a crowd was standing outside the bar, laughing and goofing off as they played with a handful of dice and passed around some cigars and joints. a girl in the crowd kept winning, and you watched as one of the men she was with grew more and more irritated as she continued to pick up her winnings.

the second he put his hand on her in an attempt to pull her back and backhand her, your fangs descended, knowing you'd found your guy. you ducked out of the alley, reaching out to grab the man by the bicep and pull him toward a shadowy corner.

but before you could touch him, he was being harshly pulled away from the young woman and thrown on the pavement.

you paused in the mouth of the alleyway, watching with increasing interest as a tall, strong woman towered over the man, glaring down at him.

she was smirking. you found yourself smirking too.

"what did i tell you about hitting women in my bar?" she rasped out. the man on the pavement beneath her pissed himself, his pants quickly growing dark as he shook in fear. the crowd he was with had dispersed, but a few eyes were watching and shaking their heads in admonishment of the man.

"i-i'm not in the bar sevika, we're outside!" the pathetic man cried. the woman above him laughed, and you watched in fascination as a blade slowly descended from her red poncho. he squealed.

"i swear i won't do it again!" he tried, scrambling away on his back as he tried to evade the woman. she smiled down at him, chuckling as she shook her head.

"no." she said. "you won't."

in a flash, the blade at her side swung down across his neck.

your stomach growled as the smell of blood drifted over to where you hid, and your loins stirred as you watched the woman keep eye contact with the man until his sputtering and twitching halted, and he died. she spat beside him, then turned to walk back into the bar. her bar, apparently.

when no one was looking, you quickly drug the body to the alleyway. his neck was tattered, but you were able to get a pretty decent feed by draining his arms at his wrists.

and after cleaning your mouth, relishing in the warmth quickly pumping through your body, you entered the bar, and spent the rest of the night in a dark corner, your eyes trained on the strong woman as she made rounds around the bar, occasionally pausing to join a game of cards or drink a whiskey.

since then, you've spent almost every night watching her.

you've learned a lot about her since you started watching her. like how in public, while she's at work, she carries herself around with a straight spine and no-nonsense attitude. but while she's at home, alone in her apartment, she's softer. she likes reading, especially romance novels. and she trades out her whiskey for a sweet white wine when she's really into a book.

she sleeps on her side, facing the door like she's ready for the first sound of danger. there have been a few times that she's left her window cracked and you've carefully floated in through her curtains, hovering beside her as you watch her breathe.

you've touched her once, running your finger down the pretty blue scars on her face. she had shifted and murmured, but hadn't woken up, seemingly not finding your presence threatening.

she smells incredibly fucking tantalizing.

not in the way humans usually smell attractive-- like blood and sweat and life. no, she smells better. she smells warm.

warm like whiskey and vanilla wraps for her cigarillos. warm like the brown sugar body wash she uses, warm like the wool of her favorite poncho.

you swore to yourself you wouldn't act on your attraction. you swore to yourself you'd just watch-- not interact.

but then, one night as you were watching sevika eat a cold, lonely dinner in her apartment, she broke down into tears.

your heart broke. you almost revealed yourself to her, just to wrap her up in your arms and press a kiss to her head.

and when she went to sleep that night, you just had to do something to make her feel a little better.

you quickly rushed down the street to the convenience store down the street, and bought the biggest bag of cheesy chips you could find. (you've watched the woman back away cheesy chips like she was preparing for hibernation-- you knew she'd like them.)

you left them on her welcome mat.

(and though you weren't there to see it, the next morning while sevika was leaving for work and she tripped over the bag, she stared at them in confusion for about three minutes, before a soft, sweet smile pulled up at the corners of her lips.)

the next night, when you came back to watch her through her window, you were thrilled to find the bag of chips half empty and sitting on her counter.

since then, you've given up on any and all semblance that you wouldn't interact with the woman.

your gifts have gotten increasingly intense.

they started with little snacks and trinkets left on her doorstep. but after the first time you saw her reaction, a little happy smile when she opened the door to a chocolate candy bar, your heart soared, and you gave up on keeping your gifts casual.

you started leaving bottles of her favorite whiskey.

then, the wine she sneaks when she's alone.

she was hesitant to open it. it sat on her counter for a week, like she was suspicious of the gift. but, eventually, she gave in and cracked the bottle open.

once she got used to her bottles, you took it up another notch. flowers from time to time. ointments and balms for all the cuts and bruises she's always coming home with. scented candles for her home, more blankets for her bed. (she's always shivering.)

one day you notice the shoelaces in her boots are fraying and old. so you bring her new ones.

one evening, you watch as she finished her smutty novel, then pout at her bookshelves when she realizes she's already read everything else on it. you bought her a series she didn't own yet.

you've even taken to getting dolled up before your nightly visits to her apartment, like she'll see you.

you feel ridiculous each time you apply your body butter and lay down your baby hairs just to watch a woman who doesn't know you exist sleep for a few hours, but you can't help yourself from the compulsion.

it's only when you start using her bodywash scent in your shower so you can always smell a bit like her that you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit in love with the woman.

just a little bit. (right?)

you start reading her romance novels in your free time, renting them out from the library and tearing through them in hours.

you're thrilled to find that all of them happen to feature two female leads.

you're also struck by the fact that her favorites-- the ones she reaches for time and time again-- all feature some sort of love letter confession.

so you make a plan.

it goes like this:

on week one, you start signing your presents with a simple "your secret admirer."

on week two, you leave a rose with every offering you bring.

(sevika keeps them all, hanging them upside down from her window so they preserve themselves.)

on week three, you start adding little notes to your gifts.

"your smile takes my breath away" (even though you don't really breathe anymore.)

"i hope silco doesn't piss you off today" (even though he pisses her off every day.)

"i wish i could sleep beside you every night" (even though you don't need sleep. you'd just like to hold her, protect her from whatever she's so scared of.)

and then, on week four, you decide to give her a letter. a full blown, totally honest confession about everything she's made you feel these past few months.

only-- something happens.

the night before you're meant to deliver the letter on her front mat, you feed off of a street rat. rat blood isn't nearly as satisfying as human blood, but you like to avoid actual murder when you can.

but this rat must have been poisoned, because you wake up with lead in your stomach and a hangover you haven't had since you turned.

you've accidentally ingested rat poison before. and while nothing can technically kill you, a whole lot of shit can make you horrifically sick until the blood works it's way out of your system.

so you have to put the plan on hold for a week.

on day one, you just lie in bed in agony.

on day two, you start shivering.

on day three, you manage to vomit up whatever of the blood remains in your stomach.

and today, day four, you wake up crying.

you miss sevika. as stupid as it sounds, she's been the most entertaining part of your life in... centuries.

and you can't see her. and you can't give her your letter. because you pass out each time you try to walk farther from the bed to the bathroom.

you groan at the ceiling as your stomach rumbles again.

"being a vampire fucking sucks!" you cry to your cat. she purrs in your lap and you sigh. "i can't eat food, i can't go in the sun, i've got all these stupid heightened senses-- and what's the point of being immortal if i can still get fucking sick?" you cry. your cat opens one eye to glare at you for interrupting her nap, before she rises and jumps down from your bed, running away.

"and now you're abandoning me in my time of need!" you wail after your cat.

there's a knock at the door.

you groan as you crawl out of bed-- your body is too weak to do any sort of flying right now-- and wander into the living room.

you're certain it's a neighbor, here to yell at you again for yelling at your cat.

but when you swing open the door, you almost pass out at the sight of sevika smirking on your doorstep.

you scream, leaping backwards, quickly snatching a blanket off the couch to wrap around your three day old soiled pajamas, and then gasp when you remember you have your bonnet on.

you reach up to pull it off-- then think better of it, knowing your hair's likely a mess beneath it. you haven't taken it off in days.

"uh." you squeak. sevika smiles at you.

"hey." she says. you blink, reaching up to rub your eyes, certain this is a poison induced hallucination. it's not, apparently.

"uh." you say again. sevika chuckles, then makes to enter your apartment.

"the rule is that vampires gotta ask to come inside your home, not the other way around, right?" she asks as she steps over the threshold to your apartment. you gulp.

"uhm..." you say, backing up until your back hits a wall.

sevika looks down at herself and shrugs. "i look fine. i guess i was right." she says. you squeak, and she smirks up at you. "i've missed you, y'know. got used to your little gifts." she says.

you gulp and blink again, trying to clear the apparition before you. sevika remains.

"today's the fourth day in a row i haven't heard from my secret admirer-- i got worried for you." she says.

you clear your throat and search for words. nothing comes up. eventually, you manage to say something, a shaky, nervous, "h-how?"

sevika grins.

"c'mon. i'm second in command to the eye of zaun, babe, i got eyes and ears everywhere."

"w-when--?" you try again. sevika laughs.

"since your first gift. i knew i felt someone watching me outside my window, i felt like i was going fucking crazy! then you left those cheesy chips, and i realized maybe whoever was watching me wasn't a threat." she says.

you squeak again, and sevika giggles.

"plus, i caught you a couplea times." she says. "you're not as stealthy as you think you are."

you pass out.

when you wake up, sevika's sitting on your couch, your head in her lap, your cat in yours. she smiles down at you. "welcome back." she says. you groan.

"this is humiliating." you mumble as you try to sit up. sevika keeps you pinned to her lap with a hand to your shoulder and you're too weak to fight her off.

"it's cute." she says with a shrug.

"i've been stalking you!" you say. she just laughs again.

"yeah, but you're cute. and harmless. and-- i'm not sure, but i've read a couple vampire romances-- isn't this your freaky way of courting me?" she asks. you groan at the cheesy wording but nod anyways.

"yeah." you mumble. sevika just chuckles.

it's quiet for a few minutes, and then sevika reaches down to grab your hand. "well..." she says. you blink up at her in confusion. "are you gonna court me or what?" she asks. you blink.

"wha-- seriously?!" you ask. she nods and shrugs.

"gimmie your best shot." she says. you smile, the horrible sickness in your body fading as a giddy feeling starts bubbling up in your stomach. you rise from the couch, rushing to your room to grab the letter, then running back into the living room, thrusting the letter into her hands. "i know you like corny love letters-- it's in all your favorite books." you admit shyly as you hand it to her. she grins.

"you read my books?"

"not yours. copies from the library." you say, shrugging. sevika smiles, then opens the letter.

it's quiet as her eyes scan the pages, the same little furrow in her brow coming up that always appears when she reads.

you bite back a gasp. you've never seen it so close-up before. she's so fucking beautiful, you have to clench your hands at your side to keep from reaching out and touching her.

when she's done, she looks up from your letter with tears in her eyes. you gulp.

"are you okay?" you ask. she swipes her eyes and nods.

"y-yeah." she whispers, a little waver in her voice. you melt, sinking back down on the couch beside her and wrapping your arms around her like you've been dying to do for months now.

sevika laughs in your arms, wrapping hers back around you then hissing when she feels how cold you are. you giggle.

sevika pulls away after a moment, her eyes locked on your lips.

"so... tell me about those fangs of yours." she says. you blink.

"w-what about them?" you ask.

"like, are they always descended or can you control it or...?" she asks. you gulp and shrug.

"i can control it." you say. she smiles.

"so, if i was to kiss you right now, you wouldn't slice my lip off by accident?" she asks. you laugh disbelievingly, then you scoot away from her.

"i--i'm sick." you say. she laughs.

"yeah, i gathered." she says, pointing at your wrinkled clothes and the bags under your eyes. "vampire sickness can't transfer to humans though." she says. you scoff.

"how do you know?" you ask. she shrugs and chuckles.

"i don't, i just really want to kiss you."

you gulp, a shaky sigh escaping your lips, before you tentatively lean forward and press your lips against sevika's.

she hums against you, and then she reaches out, grabs you by your pajama shirt, and hauls you into her lap. you squeak against her lips, and she licks into your mouth, moaning against you.

when she pulls away, you gulp at the powerful, fast pounding of her heart that you can hear from beside her.

"woah." you whisper. she smiles. "so... is that a yes?" you ask, referring to your letter. sevika snorts and lets out a bright laugh, and your heart fucking melts.

"definitely a yes, baby." she says, swooping in to kiss you again.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Watch Your Step

Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological | epilogues

Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.

Note: love you all.

Please let me know what you think <3

🍭🍭🍭

You stare at the shelf. The selection is limited, much like everything else in this town. It’s good. It means no one important will be around. At least, you thought so.

Your mind wanders back to the cafe and the man who sits daily with demands that only Birdy serves him. And that other man, the one who walked in and turned the air frigid with just his appearance. Coco said he had a lot of questions. Well, so do you, like who the fuck is he?

Ah, fuzzy peaches. That’s what Birdy asked for. You think of grabbing some of the sour cherries but you really shouldn’t. You’re certain your careless work time snacks are starting to catch up to you. You certainly feel some extra jiggle in your ass.

Right, well, you’ll forego the sweets but you should get something for Coco. She’s been… stressed. You’re all on edge but lately, she’s been wound tight. 

You go to the rack of chocolate bars and consider the various labels. Your vision blurs as your mind wanders. You don’t know how she did it for years. Birdy almost spent a whole year with her psycho and you, a couple months, but Coco, she was in it. She was resigned to it. 

Now she’s like a dog let out of the pound. She’s lost and confused but too proud to admit it.

Maybe you are too.

You settle on salted caramel but as you reach for the bar, another hand appears and smacks into your own clumsily. You back away in surprise and face the man as he gives an apologetic look. You scrunch your nose at the trim of hair above his lip. It must be a popular style around here. You thought for sure that jackass at the cafe was the only one tacky enough to support a tash stache.

“Sorry, I guess we had the same thought,” he chuckles and plucks out the salted caramel bar, “here.”

He offers the chocolate. You eye it and take it from him. You wiggle it with a dry smirk and turn on your heel. You strut towards the counter and put down your wares as the cashier rings you through.

You thank her and take the candy. Is there not enough sugar at the cafe? You shake your head and march out of the store.

The winter brings with it early evenings and a bitter chill in the air. It’ll be a strange Christmas but the holidays have never been very special for you. You stroll past the red and green storefronts. Coco wants to do candy cane hot chocolate as the special. You told her to do whatever, you don’t know much about food besides what tastes good.

You stop at the hobby shop. Half thrift and half novelty. There’s a used acoustic guitar in the window with flowers painted on the body. No, save your money. Even these snacks are a drain on the pot. You told the girls, you gotta be smart. Be ready to leave at any moment and moving is easier with money.

“You play?” A deep timbre permeates your mindless gazing.

“Little,” you answer dully as you peek over your shoulder. It’s the same man. “Don’t like being followed.”

“I’m not following you,” he tilts his head.

“No?”

“I’m walking in the same direction. Just happened to catch up.”

“Sure,” you cross your arms and raise your chin defiantly. “Well then, go on. Be on your merry way.”

His eyes twinkle as he watches you. He scoffs. He pushes back his shoulders, emphasizing his broad silhouette. He’s a big guy but you’re wily. You dealt with worse in New York.

“Sweet tooth?” He nods to the wrapper poking out of your jacket pocket.

“Nosy?” You counter.

His jaw ticks and his eyes drift over, “you must not be from around here.”

“Is it any of your business?”

“Ha, I only say that because the locals tend to be a lot nicer. You seem like the city type.”

“Oh, and you seem like the dumb type. Not interested.” You sigh and tuck your hands into your pocket and twirl away, “if you follow me another block, you won’t get to wherever you’re going.”

He chortles as you step to the curb, “frisky.”

You glance back from the corner of your eye as you cross the street. His shadow is unmoving as he remains where you left him. You squeeze the heavy metal shape in your pocket. If he so much as takes a step towards you, you won’t hesitate to unfold the blade.

[imaginethezeldaverse]

"Ah, sorry I'm late, Bludo, it took a while to find the right herbs" your apology sincere as you carefully handed the large jar to him. Being a medicinal herb specialist, you were always happy to help the ailing chief with his problems. Admittedly, the Gorons were happy to have you, his original pain medicine beginning to lose its effectiveness after having taken it so many times to soothe his aches and pains. In you would swoop, like an angel with leaves (as Bludo loved to joke) to mix a concoction of Korok fronds, Goron hot spring water and broken-down hearty truffles. The result: a salve capable of relaxing the muscles in the boss's back - only this time with more potency and without the risk of tolerance buildup. The Goron patriarch beamed with joy, knowing he could count on you to fix him up something nice for his awful back was worth the wait, he figured. He was incredibly grateful for your talents, and even moreso that his assistant-turned-entrepreneur legend was the one to introduce you. You'd met Yunobo in your travels, crossing paths in Hyrule post-Ganondorf as you tended to the wounded and the sick. Though you didn't possess the same healing qualities as the Zora did, you were blessed to have the capability of mentally archiving a vast amount of knowledge of plant-life and all of their properties. He was sweetly reserved, that you remembered - but there was fire in him (as you would find out quite literally!) and he often aided you in transporting people since his Goron strength allowed for it with ridiculous ease. From there, his journey back home was at its beginning, and he begged you to come with him - his chief in desperate need of something to relieve his old back of its soreness. The rest was history. "Ha! Ya always know exactly when to show up, kiddo" Bludo guffaws, taking the jar from you and planting his hand over you to rub the top of your head. You laughed softly at the old man's affections. People often warned you he was rough around the edges, but you swore Bludo had been nothing but kind to you. Whether that was because you supplied him with the holy grail of pain relief remains to be seen. "Anytime, Bludo, I'm always happy to help you," you affirmed, matching his grin with your own. "Y'see, and you're nice t'boot," he continues, finally reeling his hand back from your now tousled hair, "Now I know why the boy likes you so dang much, you're a one inna million." You feel your heart initially flutter at this information, but that pales in comparison to the sheer thump you feel in your chest when you look behind Bludo. The "boy" in question - was standing not far off from you both; his initial intention was to welcome you back from herb hunt. As soon as the words left the Boss's mouth, Yunobo froze. You can tell by the way he looks ready to run that this was something you weren't supposed to hear; at least not this way and definitely not from anyone else. His cheeks color several shades of crimson, and although you want to look anywhere else to give him some reprieve, you can't help but have your eyes glued to his humiliated expression. Bludo looks between the two of you, unsure of exactly what's happening. "Yunobo..." you begin, earning a yelp when the Goron hears his name. A few steps forward, only a hair past his mentor do you stand when you ask "...Is that true?" His world is melting all around him as he processes your question. Is it true that he looks forward to your visits every time you come to Goron City? Is true that your laughter dances like a song inside of chest? Is it true that he thinks you're the most beautiful, intelligent, wonderous person he's ever had the pleasure of meeting? Of course it was. It was all true. But he wasn't ready to tell you that yet. Given who he is and the power he wields, he wanted more time. More time for you to get to know him, to feel truly comfortable around him. More time to veer past President Yunobo of YunoboCo, or Sage of Fire Yunobo - but rather simply Yunobo, just a Goron from the city. He swore he planned to tell you. You've been on his mind so much already, he just...he just...! Within a mere second's time, Yunobo curled up into a ball and zoomed out toward Death Mountain - actual fire trailing behind him as he rolled away. Your hand came to your face in surprise, you'd never seen him be so agile before! Once the initial shock of his departure wore off, something sad crept into your heart. For all the long months that you had visited and stayed in Goron City, all the lovely conversations at Hyrule Castle, the shared meals, the many many times you reassured one another through your own individual weariness'... You were honestly hoping it was true.

[woodsdyke]

hi. forgot i posted this on ao3 so here it is cross-posted (u can read it there or below the cut).

She spends the quiet, calm mornings on the trail, untangling the messy web of her thoughts like she’s repairing a barbwire fence. It bites and draws blood like a cornered animal, holds fast and stubborn as you try to force it to behave, like you ever had a chance, like it would ever stop fighting.

She thinks about the town in North Dakota that disappeared overnight more than she probably should. She thinks about a herd of deer she’d seen up in the mountains last week, eyes shining pink in the dark, too many pinpricks of light against the flickering red and orange of her campfire.

She thinks about the man with his face on fire, standing in a prairie burn scar and looking at her with eyes long melted out of his skull like wax down the side of a candle.

It’s been a few years since she decided to leave Illinois for good. The city was never for her, the streets of Chicago too narrow, constricting, the factories and warehouses taking over the fields and forests like a sickness that can’t be treated nor cured. At first, she kept coming back, took trips west and north until the trail brought her back one way or another. She fell in love with Montana, quiet, rolling fields and sharp, jagged peaks on the horizon. Rushing rivers the wild horses drank from when she sat really quiet on the bank in the early hours of the morning.

She used to head back to rest up, catch up with the few folks in town she found herself missing, and then she was off again. After her parents die, heading home doesn’t feel important anymore, like the obligation to do so died with them. It’s not like she and her brother ever saw eye-to-eye, and even now, Arden meets the city halfway like an old friend, arms outstretched, while Dani turns and runs from it like a rabbit chased by a pack of dogs with fresh blood on their tongues.

So, one day she leaves and knows she’ll never be back.

A pristine estate in the suburbs of Chicago isn’t home – never was, when she stops to think about it, stop seeing home as the place you grew up rather than the places and the people you love. Home is the mountains, the prairies, the red sand and hot sun and those big sandstone arches in the Utah desert that cast long, strange shadows. Home is a little farm in the woods in western Colorado that she’ll make it back to if it’s the last thing she does, come hell or high water.

---

She stands in her camp at the edge of a stream and watches the sunrise turn the Wyoming peaks a split of orange and muted purple, the line slowly descending as the sun climbs higher into the dusky sky. It’s a sort of beauty that can’t be described, only experienced.

A deep sense of grief soaks into her bones like melting frost. It’s an ache that spreads out from a central point like a barely healed burn or a puncture wound. She feels it in her chest and behind her eyes like those first few moments waking up from an accidental nap. It’s always there, at the back of her mind, unobtrusive, like that little twinge in her hip she’s had as long as she can remember, right up until it isn’t.

Maybe it’s always been there, but now she’s let it loose.

She’s not sure what she’s grieving. She hasn’t put in the time to think about it much.

But she lets herself feel it, something she’s never done before. She lets it pull her down with its weight, because she’s always needed something to ground her. Any port in a storm.

---

Sometimes, when she can’t sleep, she looks up at the stars and thinks about graves in the woods.

Maybe she buried her grief and it dug its way out. Maybe that’s what happens when you ignore things and hope they go away. They go bitter, like a cup of tea steeped too long, like the crab apples left under trees, their sickly-sweet scent of rot hanging in the air –

- Like the tongue of a woman who hasn’t gotten the peace promised to her, since it might as well have bled to death on that expensive carpet, too.

There’s an empty hole in the dirt somewhere in the woods that she can’t stop thinking about and maybe that’s a sign that she knows she should be in it. People die and they stay dead and here she is, grappling with the weight of survivors’ guilt when she didn’t even have the decency to survive.

She tosses some more logs on the fire and watches as sparks spiral away overhead into the inky dark sky.

If nothing else, she’s a dead woman who can still feel the warmth of a campfire. She’s a dead woman who still has that twinge in her hip, still has a few wayward streaks of gray in her hair and the first stages of arthritis in her hands that she only feels on a crisp winter morning. She’s a dead woman who got that boot hill burial she always joked about, shook the dirt from her shoes, then clawed her way out of the grave and kept walking.

---

Dani remembers the voice in the woods, that day. It had sounded so sad.

Oh, little witch, what have you done? it had said, in a tone that seemed to pull her into a soft embrace, as Dani took off her ruined coat and held it in trembling hands, dried blood and dirt caked under her fingernails, seeped into her skin like cigarette stains,

this was supposed to be your final resting place.

[theluckywizard]

Fiona Apple Lyrics Prompts - Love and Heartache

put together by @demarogue and copied here for use as a prompt list I can cross out!

Oh, your gaze is dangerous

I was on to every play; I just wanted you

You'll yield to me like a scent in the breeze

Though dreams can be deceiving, like faces are to hearts, they serve for sweet relieving when fantasy and reality lie too far apart

Shall I release you? Must I release you?

Darling, just start the chase – I'll let you win, but you must make the endeavor

I do not struggle in your web because it was my aim to get caught

"Never" is a promise and you can't afford to lie

And all my armor falling down in a pile at my feet, and my winter giving way to warm as I'm singing him to sleep

all I want is to save you, honey...Or the strength to walk away

The space between us is as boundless as the dark

You can't intimidate me back into your arms

Baby, lay your head on my lap one more time, tell me you belong to me

You wanna make me sick, you wanna lick my wounds, don't you, baby?

You fondle my trigger, then you blame my gun

I want your warm but it will only make me colder when it's over

Love ridden, I've looked at you with the focus I gave to my birthday candles

Hunger hurts and I want him so bad, oh, it kills

I may be soft in your palm, but I'll soon grow hungry for a fight

You can use my skin to bury secrets in

I'm undecided about you again; mightn't be right that you're not here

I'm either so sick in the head, I need to be bled dry to quit, or I just really used to love him. I sure hope that's it.

And from the first to the last time, the signs said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted. It ended bad, but I love what we started

What wasted unconditional love, on somebody who doesn't believe in the stuff

it's dangerous work, trying to get to you

I miss that stupid ache

I just wanna feel everything

Don't let me ruin me – I may need a chaperone

Maybe you let me look out for you, protect what I found in you and never let it starve.

I will try hard to hold onto you with open arms

I'm amorous but out of reach

Kiss me while I calculate and calibrate and heaven's sakes don't make me explain

You'd like to captain a capsized ship, but I like watching you live

How can I ask anyone to love me when all I do is beg to be left alone?

I can love the same man in the same bed in the same city, but not in the same room

I could liken you to a shark the way you bit off my head, but then again I was waving around a bleeding open wound

you taught me to regret

I kept touching my neck to guide your eye to where I wanted you to kiss me when we find some time alone

If I'm butter then he's a hot knife

Even just to reach is a triumph

While I'm in this body, I want somebody to want

And I know that you do; In the dark, I know that you do

No love is like any other love, so it would be insane to make a comparison with you

I only like the way I look when looking through your eyes

[countyourcasualty]

The last, the very last, So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.

"Charles Xavier, open this g-dforsaken door!" an unfamiliar voice lifted amidst the pounding. First in his head but then flesh-against-wood, a typical cop-knock with dented fist-edges. Bang! Bang! Bang! The hundred-year old white-oak paneling on the mansion's front door would surely splinter under the force of it. Don't be so melodramatic, Charles.

Obscure. At first, but nothing remained obscure to Charles for very long. The accent, the cadence, the swirl of metal and rigid steel and smoke and crying birds-of-prey and desert sands and blinding skies that was… strange, in America. Topsy-turvy. September chill sets him bracing, and the streets are too quiet for spring, sprawling department stores and automated doors… finding himself missing the merchants, shoving new fruits under his nose… Acidic oranges, bright red seeds slipping out of mud-crusted fingers, watching the sky through sticks and leaves. Silence and seas of people adorned in white. Tishrei is your favorite month, New York City is too cold. Too-much metal like how you'd expect him to love. You remember this. The metal, wound down into the spaces between his atoms, his driver. But Lehnsherr - Shomron called him Ariel but everyone else just calls him Erik - just misses the heat. You can almost smell the burning rubber tires as the hollowed-out Jeep under your ass lifts off the ground and careens beyond an aging, rusted wall, medical tents line-by-line and you're really here, ferrying enormous jugs of water to the makeshift hospital. At least Haifa had roads. You could never classify whatever he was doing in this sweltering wasteland - this minuscule fraction of a place called Eilat - as driving in the first place. The Red Cross had convinced Charles to go. It'll be good for you, your people-finding skills are unprecedented! Oxford loves the extracurriculars. OK, except for the fact that no one in this entire country understood how a fucking motor vehicle worked, OH KAY? It's hard to sell it as good for him when he's imagining his skull through the windshield. Ma kara, atah mipachad? What's wrong? You scared? Of course Lehnsherr goaded him. Always had. Flyaway curls are freshly jammed under a black, tye-dye swirl toque (at least some things never change, you couldn't get Erik into a kippah if you paid him, but he'll show up to work in a 420 Blaze It beanie - OK, maybe not quite so theatrically goyische; the same category as Hot Topic and American Idol, but you honestly couldn't predict the man's moods on the best of days and he's absolutely been known to fuck with Charles in spectacular and delightful ways), and two large brown paper bags balanced in one of his arms, freeing up the other to… ya know… knock Charles's door down with.

Perhaps if the sun's tears would sing against a white stone…

This part of Erik, Charles was not familiar with. He didn't rise to the bait, any of it. His mind a glass sieve, fogged with snowflakes over a superheated element. "Ah , so you're incapable of reason, then?" Erik's poor arm crosses over his chest, one eyebrow arched back. "And I doubt you could see two feet in front of you let alone annihilate the opposition , kamerad." The statement is sharp, pointed at the whiskey tumbler in Charles's fingers. "But you are right that I am not here for a social call," Erik's quick retort lacked any indication of offense. Charles had the distinct capacity to wither with a well-placed word, a cutting observation, acerbic sarcasm designed to flay away skin and reveal bone. It wasn't that Erik was immune, no one really could be immune to that level of insight, but he was shored up with foolhardy courage, impulsive and willing to jump feet-first into the fire regardless. The little girl was spared from falling on her rear end by a neat application of Erik's abilities, setting her upright onto her feet before she hit the ground and kneeling to murmur something conspiratorially to her, watching as she ran off into the distance. It was a controlled display of power. No lurching, jerky, messy, noisy scraping and bouncing around. No cars crumpling under their own gravity, wheels dragging against gravel, fighting against him. No metal , either. Now he appeared to have distinct command of his environment, a clocked awareness of every reflective surface in the room a subtle magnetic pull in his neurons. Grounding, soothing. "Still smoke?" Erik with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth, now there was a blast from the past. "I have liquor, pie and Newports. Don't say I can't bribe the best of them. Or the worst." Those eyebrows raised very pointedly down at Charles. He patted the top of the paper grocery bags.

That butterfly was the last one. Butterflies don't live in here,

"I will make it and you will eat it," Erik pointed at him expectantly as he got to work. The cigarette by now had migrated its way under Erik's hat and behind his ear, safe and sound while he retrieved varying ingredients from the bag in preparation. "This is untenable," he muttered as he glanced about the kitchen, rummaging this way and that. Too much clutter, too distinctly lacking care, Charles found a shot glass set in front of him because, "don't drink out of the bottle like an animal," but whatever reply Charles gives he knows Erik isn't really listening. He's just making noise, making his presence felt, inundating himself into the cracks and walls. The shot glass settled itself in front of Charles expectantly. At least he wasn't griping about the drink, but apparently he'd gone full circle. Medic, fact-finder, social worker. And now, Charles-wrangler. Erik's career trajectory was shaping up nicely, he thought. Five years; it's long enough for him to have finally gotten a fucking post-secondary degree, a point of contention Charles very vividly remembers being mocked endlessly for in the ambulance as it skittered noisily over rocks. Look who grew up and got his Bachelor's all on his lonesome. (It's uhhh not that impressive comparatively, look who he's fucking talking to, but for Erik who Charles wasn't sure knew how to sit still long enough to learn anything that wasn't casualty evacuation triage, it was meritorious.) A knife snapped into his hand from the block and he sliced open the package, running the meat under the tap before cutting it into thin slices, splashing salt and pepper on it, a little rosemary, and pounding it thin for a stir fry. It's done all one-handed, with help only from the tug of Erik's mutation, fine-tuned. Nothing like the swirling, cacophonic maelstrom of Charles's mind. Splintered into millions of refracted-kaleidoscope prisms, thoughts-not-his-own. Ki'ani lo yetzat, the thoughts were so quiet as to be nearly indistinguishable from the sizzling of oil in the pan. Charles was too drunk to bother pulling out the interpretation. Something about not exiting . Why was he here? A pin-drop echo reverted upside-down right-side-up through the mirror, mud and crunching bones and aching metal. One foot in front of the other, two steps back to counter it. You always did make fun of his Avalanche phase (you never thought you'd meet Matthew Good's biggest fan in fucking Eilat , but life uh… finds a way) until one buried you. It's a memory from the ether, a forgotten spiel in the long litanies, the metronomes of Charles's current existential crisis. Once, Erik Lehnsherr had carried him across miles of desert in a very literal sense of the word. Now, it seemed, he had come back to do the same. Whether or not Charles approved.

[caseylicious]

Badass.

Summary: The brothers are injured, unable to use their weapons. How do they react to the reader using the weapons against the opponent?

Characters: Leo, Raph, Mikey, and Donnie

Reader: FEMALE

Relationship: I don't really know whether or not you wanted platonic or romantic, so let's do romantic! (Established Relationship.)

Warnings: Mentions of Blood.

Words: 2673

A/N: This is a really cool request! That I am honored of writing for. I can just imagine all the battling that has happened. Anyways! Please Enjoy 💐

Tags: @el-chiste Thank you for the lovely request!

[ If you have any constructive criticism or corrections for any of my English do let me know! :) ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 💐

You heard your boyfriend scream in pain as they dropped their weapon. This villain was different from the others, it was more powerful. It thought differently than the others.

Running to his side, you checked over his wounds. They were bad and you could see how it hurt them. You knew the others couldn't make it in time even if you both ran.

So you did the only thing, you knew you could do.

Fight.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 💐

💙 Leo

It was going to be a simple mission, stop whoever kept stealing the condiments. You had no reason why Leo had to make such a fuss over condiments being taken away.

But thinking about it now, no ketchup on fries would've been a nightmare to humans. You only imagined everybody having wars over the very condiments. It would start an anarchy in New York! Especially with the cheap hot dogs on the street.

Leo argued that it would be easier if he went on this, solo... well with you. "C'mon guys! It's just a ketchup thief. It can't be so bad, right babe?"

You nodded your head, there was no way something this silly could be dangerous, right?

Raph crossed his arms, feeling his overprotective brother instincts almost act. Mikey smiled to you both, "I believe in Y/N! C'mon Raphh!" He sighed to Mikey's encouragement, he knew that Donnie would say a comment of "Yeah, yeah. Leo's probably right."

"Fine! But don't go too far in the city. We won't be able to reach you in time if something bad were to happen." His shoulders relaxed, having confidence that Leo can handle it all by himself.

"Yeahhh, Let's do this Y/N!" Wrapping his hand around your waist, he opens a portal. Waving to his brothers. "I'll see you when I complete this on my own! Buh - Bye~"

This would be an easy mission, right?

- - - - - - - - - -

SLAM!

He rolled to the floor, in pain. Running towards him, you fell to your knees. "Leo! A- are you okay?! Open your eyes!" You held his hand tightly. Hoping to feel his warmth, he opened his eyes. You sighed with relief. He coughed out some blood, glancing to the enemy searching for you both. "That.. really hurt- what even is this thing?" You looked with him. trying to analyze what the creature was. "It looks like a scorpion... You were thrown really badly."

He smirked, attempting to move his arms. His smirk wiped off his face immediately unable to feel his bones. "Y- Y/N, you need to run. Get the others, I'll be right behind you." You shook your head immediately, "I can't leave you. The others won't make it in time!" He sighed, scared for his own life and yours.

When you both went through the portal, You and Leo teleported right in front of the scorpion in the act. Resulting in the battle immediately starting. It was a terrible idea of Leo even bringing you, but he wanted to show off his ninja skills.

Typical Leo, seeking out your approval and praise...

He had no clue that the first thing it'd do was throw it towards the wall, hard.

"There's no other choice Y/N..." He frowned looking away. You thought for a moment, before your own mental you gave you an idea. "There's one..."

He raised a brow, watching you pick up his two blades. He had a look of confusion, before he realized. "Y/N! Do not tell me you're going to try and attempt to fight that thing!" He couldn't lose you, he just couldn't. "I'm not attempting Leo! I am going to fight it. Be right back." Before he could say anything else he watched as you ran towards the enemy. Your hair blowing in the wind. You had no fear. He feared for the worst, suddenly watching you swing the blade in front of yourself, jumping through the portal.

Then suddenly appearing out of another one, slashing the beast. How did you even know how to use his weapon? Were you watching him each time you came along on a mission? He didn't know how to take in this information, until he watched the villain suddenly fall over. Making it unable to fight you and your boyfriend. You panted, exhausted of what you just did. Turning your head; you ran back to your boyfriend dropping his blades next to him. "Okay- we can call Donnie now for help. Let me get my pho-" He interrupted your rambling, "How did you do all that, doll?" You blinked, confused. "Do.. what?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 💐

He chuckled to your obliviousness. "How did you use my weapon like that? That was totally badass!" You began to blush to the compliment, "Really? You're hurt and you're calling me a badass?" He nodded with his cheeky smile.

Rolling your eyes, you dialed Donnie's number.

❤️ Raph

"The.. CD Bandit? What on earth is that?" Donnie chuckled looking at the topic on his phone. "It's on the news D! And they've taken ALL of my favorite bands' music albums!" Leo lifted his head from his comic book. "What's so important about that band?" You gasped dramatically.

"What's so important about that band?" You chuckled, your fist turning into a ball.

"What's so important about that band? Raph could see you getting upset over the whole situation. "That band is literally GOD themselves!! They're my idols! They're EVERYTHIN-"

You felt your head being pat by the bigger turtle. "Don't worry Y/N! I'll stop that bandit for you." Your frown turned to a giant smile, a smile that Raph is so, so in love with. "Really?! Oooo!!" You hugged your taller boyfriend as he blushed. His brothers gave "ooo's" and goofy stares. "Thank you, Thank you!!"

So, off you both went to face this bandit. And to bring cheer and joy to all the stans in New York...

Raph would know how much you loved that band, since he was your boyfriend. You wouldn't stop ranting about it around him!

"Y- you're welcome sweetheart, now let's get going. We wouldn't want your bands' songs to be taken of, again." You nodded your head getting on top of his shoulders, blinded from your obsession with a band. That Raph said he, himself would stop this bandit.

- - - - - - - - - -

And here you were, on the ground with a cut on your leg. With your boyfriend being stuck to the wall with a half-cut metal CD pinning him to the wall. His Twin sais' on the floor, you quickly got up to look at him. "Raph are you stuck?! I can try to-"

"Y/N, I'm stuck. I can't reach my weapons and-" His legs were suddenly pinned to the wall with half-cut CDs as well. You were scared that his head and legs would be cut off if he tried resisting. "D- don't move. Let me think of a plan!" He stared at you confused, "What do you mean, PLAN? The plan is to use the panic button!!"

What happened before, was that while you both were running on the roofs of New York, Raph was caught off-guard by a giant CD almost slicing your head off your body. Traumatic as that was, Raph got distracted and fell off the roof. Quickly transforming into his bigger size, catching you in his hands. He let you down on your feet before more CDs were thrown towards him.

They were just thrown too quickly for him to catch all at once. Resulting to the situation at hand...

Back to the present, you held his weapons in your own hands. They were so big in comparison. "Y/N- Now is not the time to joke around. Press the call button on my wrist!" You shook your head with a mischievous smirk. This CD bandit pissed you off the moment the news spoke about it. "You.. do NOT get to take all of those CDs and then break them, to ONLY attack my boyfriend!" You screamed in anger, running towards the bandit. He was going to call your name to get back, before he saw your arm size get bigger with the red mystic energy in his weapon.

"No sweetheart, just.. amazed. Had no clue you could use my weapon like that!" His toothy smile bringing butterflies to your stomach. "Well, watching a good older brother. I guessed I learned a thing..." You glanced over to the crime scene. "Or two."

This may be a stretch, but you punched the shit out of that thing. Forcing it to confess to the police. Now exhausted, you finally pulled the CDs off your boyfriend. When he was free, he immediately hugged you.

"R- raph? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" You felt his arm around your body.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 💐

🧡 Mikey

Your scream could be heard through the whole lair. Your boyfriend sprinting to your side immediately. "Y/N! What's wrong?! Is there a bad guy? WHERE!!" He was about to take out his kusari-fundo until he saw Leo with you. Both of you sobbing to the tablet.

"Mikey.. they they..." Leo sniffles, hugging himself. "They...? What? What did they do? Who even is they??" You cried, "THEY DESTROYED THE THRIFT STORE!!"

Mikey blinked, staring at you. "I- what?" He placed away his weapon to stare at you at Leo even more. You.. were crying because of a thrift store being destroyed? Until he thought a bit more. That thrift store was you and Leo's favorite store. That's where you bought his matching sweater with you. He gasped, finally understanding the importance of this crime.

He instantly hugged you, "Y/N! This is a job for Doctor Delicate Touch. Nobody destroys a thrift store on my watch!" Your eyes sparkled with determination to Mikey's statement. "Yeah! Nobody should have to suffer their favorite Thrift Store from being destroyed..."

You couldn't help. but imagine the families who aren't able to afford most things. Watch as stores which allowed them to buy products near their price range are destroyed. It broke your heart.

Leo nodded, "Yeah! Nobody should so... I'll be waiting here until you both fix the situation" You raised your brow towards Leo. "Weren't you just crying with me?? I thought you'd be more concerned on this with me!" He shrugged, "Yeah. I'll be concerned, but! I'm letting Mikey do a solo mission.. just don't tell Raph."

Mikey's eyes lit up hearing the news. "Leo!! This is why I love you my man!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Why didn't Leo tell Raph he was going on a solo mission? He was on the ground unable to move due to hanging racks clicking him to the ground. "Urghh! Y/N! Get help!" He knew this solo mission wasn't going to end well, and you were the only one with him. He couldn't risk you getting hurt, yet he was so scared of getting hurt himself.

"Mikey- I can get you out of these.. hangers?- Ugh! Just work with me here." You could hear the monster of clothes roar towards your direction. "RUNNN!"

Before this whole problem existed, you and Mikey simply chose to go into a thrift store, hoping that if it were the next target location of destruction. You both could then quickly destroy the creature. Forcing it out of its ways to the authorities!

However you both underestimated the strength of this enemy. It took you both by surprise. Using that to its advantage, separating the both of you. What makes things even worse was that everything was dark. Mikey couldn't see his surroundings, so he didn't know where to aim. Resulting in him losing his weapon while getting stuck.

You tried pulling the restraints off of him, but there was no sign of it working. Panicking, you didn't want to leave your boyfriend, bestfriend behind. Until you saw in the corner of your eye... his kusari-fundo. "Wait right here!"

You ran towards the battle field with Mikey panicking, "Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING- COME BACK!!" You smirked watching Mikeys' jaw drop. "Saving your life!" You grabbed hold of his weapon and began to easily use it. As if it were your destiny to wield it...

When you finished beating the enemy's bum; Mikey was freed. You immediately gave back his weapon and apologized for using it.

"What? Y/N, no! You were amazing! You may know even more than me!" He high-fived you as you both walked back to the lair.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 💐

💜 Donnie

It was a lazy sunday, and you just barged into your boyfriend's room. "D! D!- there's this new online hacker dude on the internet!" You waved your phone around, as his metal arm grabbed it. Inspecting the phone, a smirk appears on his face. "The.. Hacker, okay babe. I don't know what jokes you're making up this time... but this is totally, 100% clickbait." You gasped, "It is not!" You pouted, crossing your arms. Looking away from your boyfriend's sweet face.

He chuckled, placing away his engineering instrument. To focus his attention onto you. "Well? How did this "Hacker" become oh, so popular?" You sighed as you felt his hand with yours. "Well... News said it hacked that game you played? Purple Ga-"

"I'm sorry, did you say Purple Game? As in the game, I am always Number One in?" Before you could respond, Donnie was all geared up with his battle shell and his one and only,  bō staff. (Tech.) "Onward Y/N! We mustn't let this foul troublemaker ruin any more games!"

You smiled, running with him to go stop this thief. You thought it was going to be your typical "skinny" and "needs to touch grass" sort of guy or gal. But no... you were very wrong.

- - - - - - - - - -

"D-donnie! Stop!" You were panting, holding onto the bloody scratch on your stomach. He groaned in pain, blocking off the bold and strong attacks. "What is it Y/N?! I don't think there's anytime for tal-" You quickly threw a rock at one blast. "Your battle shell- it's not on you!" His eyes widened as he looked to his back. Seeing his sensitive shell exposed.

Before the fight even happened, Donnie used his geolocation algorithm to find the location of the "Hacker." Surprised to find out it was in the Hidden City. You both ventured off into the unknown streets, until finding a black and green hue of light. Without knowing it, you and Donnie fell into its trap. In its game, Donnie used his staff to protect you.

He saw this as a video game, that he could be wreckless. Maybe he was distracted by Purple Game itself to realize his physical body could be affected. He didn't notice that his Battle Shell was broken off of him by a blast.

Distracted by the fact his battle shell was broken off, he was blasted with a laser. Knocking him back, he hissed in pain as his shell scratched the hard cold holographic code floor. He tried thinking of a way to get you out of here. He could hack into the mainframe of the game? No- What could he even-

He was about to tell you to run, before watching you run at the game boss with his staff. "Let's see how you work this thing- WOAH-!!" You pressed a button and one side had a rocket booster. Making up a quick plan; you began bonking the game boss multiple times. Defeating it, the both of you being released from the game safe-and-sound.

He smiled like an idiot to your kiss, before realizing what you said. "Hey!- Rude!"

While you were relieved that you both were safe, Donnie was.. very much confused. He stared at you for a good while, before you broke the silence. "What's wrong Donnie? We can grab your battle shell at ba-" You were quickly interrupted. "How did you learn to use my tech?" You blinked, smiling to yourself. Placing a hand on your hip, you flipped your hair with confidence. "I watched ya tinker with it multiple times! Of course I'd learn a thing or two." His expression still the same, you began to worry if he was mad you touched his tech, his precious works of art.

However his face showed a smile, looking into your eyes. "Well, you learned damn good. I'm a good teacher! I should rant about my tech more around you!" You not wanting a whole hour that could be used to cuddle with him, just for him to rant, kissed his cheek. "For how much I love you babe, please don't do that..."

[st4rbwrry]

STREETS ☆ draken ryuguji.

☆ warnings: drabble, fem!reader, lowercase intended, black coded, car sex, draken is possessive, mention of dv, smoking, draken has a savior complex, fighting, dirty talk, minors aren’t welcomed!

“i like the way you fuck me.”

you remember the way he looked at you after you said that, puffing a cloud of smoke past his lips with sullen eyes, eyeing the way you chew at your gold named necklace with desire in your eyes. you’re never the best when high. a very dangerous, immensely horny woman. he’s only fucked you once, two months ago after graduation on the hood of this very car at midnight. it was during a brief breakup from your ex that he hates more than anything in this world. that same asshole he rescued you from today after you called him crying about how he had put his hands on you.

draken loathed men who abused women. he was already halfway out his house once he heard you crying, speeding down the streets with anger, his fist gripping the leather steering wheel hard. when he pulled up, seeing your cute face stained with tears and a bruise on your eye with a bleeding cut on your lip . . . he lost it. finding the fucker and beating the daylights out of him, so badly he bled everywhere. at one point you had to pull him off of him, screaming for him to stop before he killed him. he wanted to. he was going to. he’d go to jail for you. but you didn’t want that.

draken grabbed your arm and took you with him, taking you to his place and tending to your wounds , and after his gentle touches and kisses to your temple, you crawled up into a ball and cried, wondering why you were so dumb in love with someone who treated you like shit. draken scolds you multiple times for calling yourself names. he grabs a beanie from his drawer and puts it over your head so your hair shields the bruise on your face, putting a face mask on to cover the scar. he decides to take your mind off it by driving around for the rest of the day. getting something to eat, watching a movie at the drive-in, and then parking his car on a high hill that overlooked the city of japan while the two of you smoked.

now here you were, the passenger seat slid all the way back as you grip at the headrest with your shorts pulled to your knees and the white tank top you cut really short now lifted above your perky tits that brush against chair. body jolting as you moan, the silver hoop earrings dangling by your cheek as draken fucked you from behind, his hot hand clammy around the back of your neck. you listen to him grunt and huff as he snaps his sharp hips against the flesh of your ass, smacking your skin and listening to his echo in the black hellcat.

“take that shit, baby,” draken breathes on your ear, jaw slacked as he moaned after you tightened your cunt around him, crying out ken the harder he drilled his dick into you, thick and filling you up so well, so much better than your ex. the leather squeaks with every movement you two make, draken cursing under his breath as you start fucking him back, his big body arched over you, his head touching the roof.

his black hair is fallen around his bandaged face, your ex getting maybe one or two hits out of it. his tongue sticks out, knuckles turning white as he squeezes your ass between his fingers, dragging you back on his cock as you whine and whimper, eyes crossing. he pulls his shirt up as he thrusts, bringing the fabric to his mouth to hold with his teeth, looking back at him with your mouth open. your right leg is pulled up to rest on the center console, slapping and screaming onto the chair as he switches his hips, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, gasping and trembling.

his chest is near your back yet again, feeling his chain drag against your arched spine, slowing his pace to sloppily kiss up your back, tongue gliding on your flushed skin as he mumbles the word mine. you shakily cry out one his hand reaches between the two of you, massaging your puffy clit, soaking his fingers in the process. you hum, throwing your head back on his shoulder and stretching your arm between your thighs and grabbing as his balls you play with, smiling drunkenly as he breathily drags out moans of fuckin’ shit, baby.

“ken, m’gonna cum,” you pout, desperately grinding back on him, both of you still moving your hands on each other to chase that high.

“cum on it, then,” his mouths at your neck, pressing his forehead to yours and circling his hips until you do.

he hugs you close, forearm wrapped around your midsection as your thighs shake and you cum, reciting his name past your dewy lips, honey voice pulling him to his own high, fighting the urge to stay inside by pulling out and nutting on your back in thick ropes of white. he’s silent when he cums other than his heavy breathing, grabbing your chin and shoving his tongue in your mouth.

he has a few blankets in his trunk for you, cleaning you up with wipes before letting you fall asleep beside him, turning off the car and staying up the whole night, unable to sleep, too many thoughts lingering on his mind. he’s laying back in the drivers seat as he watches your body rise and fall peacefully, stroking the bruise on your face with his jaw clenched, chest heavy. when the sun rises, and the sky is pink and orange, draken finds himself driving towards your exes house.

you wake up after you feel that familiar turn down the road, sitting up and eyeing him as you rub your eyes, your body cramping from the position your laid in, also from previous activities.

“ken, wha—”

“pack your shit, ima be out here,” he bluntly demands, reaching over you inside the glove compartment, your eyes widening as he pulls out a gun. he gives you one last glare, raising his brows as a signal for you to hurry up. you bite your lip, nodding before stepping out of the car the same time he does.

draken leans against his car with his gun tucked into his pants behind his back, watching you walk towards the door and pull out your key, disappearing inside, making sure to leave the door open so he can see everything. he hears shouting from your ex who peaks out the door, his face different shades of purple and bloated up from draken’s recent attack. the man gulps as he sees him pull the gun from his back and hold it to his side, shooting him a dirty glare, wishing he’d try it. draken didn’t mind blowing his kneecap.

it only takes you fifteen minutes to grab whatever belonged to you and run out the house with a duffel bag and a pink suitcase, brushing right past your abusive piece of shit boyfriend draken never understood what you saw in him. you smile at draken, trying not to cry as he opens the door for you, taking your luggage as you sit inside. he bends to peak his head into the window, kissing you in front of him.

“you’re living with me. i’ll keep you safe. i’ll love you like you needa be loved.”

© 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞.

[venusinthepentagram]

☆＊・you’ve got mail!:

♪ come home baby!

synopsis: kaeya stays out late at night. being the delightful partner you are, it’s your duty to bring him home, right?

contains: nsfw content, afab/fem reader, kaeyas pretends to be wasted lol, chubby reader, breeding, spitting

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Hot. The air was sticky and hot, the kind of weather that makes your skin buzz and let sweat gather between every crease and fold of skin. And boy were you sweating. Streamers of peach light decorated the streets of Mondstadt carefully, as if any more than the slightest touch would turn the city to ashes and, yet the temperature was still sky high. You would’ve loved nothing more than to be at home sipping on ice cold lemonade in your skimpiest clothes, better yet nothing at all, but here you were hunting down your disaster of a boyfriend. It certainly wasn’t unusually for you to have to retrieve him from Angels Share on nights like this but you’d rather not have to considering you were about to boil alive. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, you were immediately greeted by the heady smell of alcohol and musk. Rowdy shouts and conversation made you cringe: how Charles and Diluc dealt with this so often, you had no idea. Lo and behold your lovely navy haired boyfriend was slumped at the bar chatting away at Rosaria and clearly pissing off his brother. You quickly made eye contact with the redhead and shot him an apologetic look. Walking up behind Kaeya, you placed one hand on his left shoulder and your chin on the other. Lazily his gaze landed on you and a slightly more genuine smile crossed his lips.

“What’re you doin’ out so late, pretty?” Such smooth words from a man who was surely ninety percent alcohol at this point.

“Came to fetch you,” he arched a brow as if he didn’t get why you’d do such a thing (he knew damn well). Shifting on his stool, he moved to rise off the wood and made a dramatic show of stretching. Shooting a slight nod and wave to those in the tavern he knew as a goodbye, he earned similar gestures back alongside a glare from Diluc who you think muttered ‘good riddance’ under his breath but you weren't watching close enough to confirm. Regardless, you knew he didn’t really mean it. Once fully on his feet Kaeya threw one arm over your shoulder and placed an uncomfortable amount of his weight on you while kissing the crown of your head.

Finally you were heading home.

Whenever Kaeya got drunk he unconsciously lowered his body temperature so the heat was slightly more bearable with his ice cube body on top of you. He was humming a tune you vaguely remembered hearing on one of your trips to the winery but you if you asked he’d tell a pre-made lie about hearing it around the Knights Headquarters from Klee. Cool fingers rubbed small circles and stars on your arm that brought goosebumps to the surface. You casted him a side glance only to find him already looking at you with a dopey smile placed on his lips. 

“Hey, cutie.”

“Can I help you?” 

Faux hurt passed over his face briefly. “Well, I was going to compliment you pretty girl but since you’ve wounded me so deeply,” he pretended to ponder for a moment, “I’m going to compliment you regardless. Nice tits.” You considered smacking him across the head but with your body preoccupied holding him up, you couldn’t do a whole lot. Unfortunately. Thankfully you were approaching the door to your shared apartment. It took an annoyingly long amount of time to heave the both of you up the stairs but once at the top, Kaeya seemed to magically regain his ability to walk and stand normally. He swung the door open for you to enter first before following you close behind. You knew he was clingy but to pretend he was drunker than he was just to lean on you was a new, but not unwelcome, low. The lighting in the room was low due to the late hour but you could still make out the sly smirk across your beloveds lips as he kicked the door shut unceremoniously. The gap between the two of you was quickly closed as he grabbed the plush fat of your hips, lips landing on your neck and collarbone. It brought a sigh out of you and Kaeya ate it up.

“Someones enjoying themselves already,” he nipped your clavicle, “allow me to undress you, it sure was hot out there.” His rough fingertips glided under your shirt to pull it off before making quick work of your bra. He palmed your tits eagerly, tongue dragging down to suck and lick at the skin of your breasts and nipples. Soft whimpers left your mouth in quick concession as you attempted to fiddle with the complicated buttons and such of his clothes. Kaeya chuckled lowly before pulling away and helping you discard of his own clothes. His hands then cupped your ass cheeks as he lifted you up effortlessly to carry you only over to the couch and laying you down. He spread your legs before settling between them while pushing your skirt up and panties aside. Long fingers rubbed at your clit and spread the lips of your cunt. The little moans you let out had his cock growing somehow harder. Leaning back, he spit directly onto your pussy. The action has your heart and clit pounding. But as his actions would prove, Kaeya didn’t intend on going slow. Shifting around slightly he pushed down his lower layers only enough to free his cock from the constraints. With one hand still working your puffy cunt he began stroking his cock slightly while he made sure you were wet enough to take him; he wasn’t small by any means. Kaeyas dick was mouthwatering. Long enough to push up against your cervix and thick enough to always make you feel a pleasant stretch. Slightly tanner than the rest of his skin and with a rosy head that always leaked ridiculous amounts of precum. Heavy balls to match the rest and the slightest amount of hair covering them. It always had you seeing stars. Without warning, he began settling the tip inside of you. Thumb still caressing your clit softly, he impatiently pushed in. Your small mewls only served to make him more desperate. He didn’t take much time to bottom out which only made the stretch more apparent but he knew you liked it that way. Kaeya tried a couple small test pumps before fully pulling out and slamming back in, a loud clap accompanying the motion. The pace he set was bruising and made your head spin. The pressure on your clit only adding to the sensation. His other hand moved up and around to grope at all of your exposed skin. Grabbing your heavy tits, the plush fat of your stomach, and settling around your throat finally. Sex with Kaeya was always filthy even if it wasn’t particularly kinky. With your mouth open and moaning he took the opportunity to spit directly to the back of your throat while grinning.

“Swallow.” And you did. All of the combined sensory overload had you getting closer and closer to the edge; Kaeya could tell. His pace got slightly slower but significantly harder as he focused on hammering into the spot that made you feel best while increasing the pressure and speed he rubbed at your clit. Within moments, as his hand came back down to grope at your rolls and hips, you came. It was messy and sudden, just the way you both liked it. Your puffy cunt squirting all over his fat dick while Kaeya chased his own high. The feeling of your walls clamping through your orgasm had him coming not long after.

“Gonna breed you. Fill this tight lil cunt, make sure I knock you up. Gotta fill this belly with my kids. Get you all nice and round,” his rambling continued. His hands resting and grabbing at the plush of your tummy and thighs desperately while he shot a fat load right into your womb. The feeling alone had you squirming and coming undone for the second time that evening. The thrusts slowly came to a stop, his dick still resting inside of you while a sideways grin graced his features. One hand came up to brush the hair out of his face while the other went down to gently caress your cheek.

“Did so good f’me.” The gentle touches had you drifting off softly. You had dreams of having his kids that night.

✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚ ˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮ ✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚ ˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮

a/n: hehe kinda short but u get the point!!!!

[yukidragon]

Will u make more of your take on aphrodesia!Sunny day jack? No pressure if u dont want to!

I’m so glad you want to see more of the Something’s Wrong With Sunny Day Jack and Aphrodesia crossover AU! I certainly want to do more with it, particularly writing some short fics and art in that setting. For the most part I’ve been taking a break with writing and drawing in general to recharge (which is why Sunshine in Hell hasn’t been updated in a while), but with the occasional writing blurb here and there for funsies. It’s kind of like the writer equivalent of doodling.

Since you were so kind to ask for more of this crossover AU, and in the spirit of celebrating the kickstarter getting successfully funded and reaching 300 followers on my twitter, I suppose I could post a little narrative doodle. I’m not sure if I’ll actually finish this little rough snippet, but I had fun making it. Maybe you’ll like it too.

If I do wind up finishing it, I’ll be sure to post the polished version in Sunshine in Another World. I hope you enjoy it!

Oh, and as a heads up, this flashfic is for Adults Only. These fandoms are for Adults over the age of 18 Only. Things are pretty explicit right from the outset, and it’s a bit kinkier than my usual spicy writing, so it’s going to be entirely hidden behind a cut.

I never thought I’d be writing a smut piece about cockwarming with a mafia boss, but here we are.

...

Alice had to learn to be patient about a lot of things ever since she was inducted into the Sunny Family. She had to learn how to sit still and focused for hours to be an effective sniper. Back when she was barely hanging onto the lowest rung of the family she had to be patient and ready to be summoned at a moment’s notice by her boss. Most of all, she had to be patient until her debt was paid off, and she could finally leave this bloody life behind her and return to her real family.

One thing Alice never thought she would have to be patient for was for Sunny Day Jack to just fuck her already.

Ever since the two of them got together officially as a couple, Jack never seemed to be able to keep his hands off Alice. Well, admittedly he had a hard time keeping his hands off her since the day they met, but he was nothing if not respectful of her boundaries. However, at some point their physical contact crossed from platonic hand holding to a heck of a lot more. It had been such a striking change in her life, going from never having sex to making love practically every day. They spent every single day together, and it was rare that they wouldn’t wind up naked and entwined together at some point.

Despite how active her sex life had become recently, Alice still had no idea how she wound up in the lap of the leader of the most powerful and respected crime families of St. Valens with his large dick buried deep inside her. What was even more inexplicable was how Jack expected her to just keep still while he filled her so completely to the brim. She was so acutely aware of every inch of him, especially the part of him that faintly throbbed inside her, hot, hard and more than ready to just finally rail her over the desk already.

How the hell did I get in this mess? Alice wondered, not for the first time since she got embroiled in the seedy criminal underbelly that infested the city of St. Valens. Sure, indulging in her boyfriend’s kinky request was a far cry from the worst thing she had ever done while here, but it was hard not to feel frustrated when her body throbbed with need.

Unfortunately, her boss ordered her not to move until he was finished with his paperwork. ‘Let’s play a little game,’ he said. ‘Won’t that be fun?’ he said.

Jack even sweetened the deal by offering Alice some sort of prize if she ‘won’ their little game, though he didn’t say what that would be. He also didn’t say what her ‘penalty’ would be if she ‘lost.’

That damn prize better be worth it, Alice thought bitterly as she watched the most dangerous crime boss in the city sign yet another paper while she struggled desperately not to start slamming her hips down on his dick - penalties be damned.

Jack pretended to take no notice of his assistant’s discomfort. He didn’t exactly ignore Alice, idly stroking her hair in an almost offhand manner as he used the other to thumb through his paperwork. Seeing her so impatient for him was intoxicating. He wanted the game to last for as long as possible. The flush of her pouty cheeks was so cute, and the exquisite velvety feeling of her pussy wrapped around him was heaven. She was so perfect, as though she was made for him. There was nothing in the world better than to be one with her like this.

Well, admittedly, it was a little taxing on his patience. Although Alice did well not to move, her occasional twitches around his dick sent small sparks of pleasure that was sweet torture. It was difficult for Jack to hold back and continue the game instead of bending her over the desk to pound himself into that deliciously hot and wet pussy of hers, but he was committed to seeing it through.

Besides, teasing Alice was pretty fun. Jack wondered just how long it would take for her to break down and beg him to make love to her. She was already so impatient, so needy for him.

This game was as good as won.

“You’re doing so good,” Jack murmured as he pressed a kiss to Alice’s forehead. She still flinched a little where his lips touched her scars, but not as much as she did at the beginning. It was enough to send another spark shooting through his dick as her spongy walls fluttered around him. His breathing caught for a moment, but he managed to keep a straight face despire the sweet torture the game put them both through. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Jack…,” Alice said, cringing at the needy whine in her voice. “How much longer?”

Jack chuckled, the corner of his mouth hooking into a smirk as he admired her flushed cheeks. “Just a little longer, sunshine.” He pressed another kiss into her cotton candy soft hair this time.  “Don’t worry, I’ll be done soon.”

Alice couldn’t stop her sigh of frustration. “You said that half an hour ago.”

“Yes,” Jack admitted almost a little too innocently. “I suppose that is true, but ‘soon’ is just a little sooner now than it was before.”

Alice huffed as she pressed her cheek into her boyfriend’s shoulder, taking solace in at least his warmth. She tried not to think about the burning in her core, but it was impossible not to ache for Jack to make love to her. He was so warm, his embrace so comforting, and he gently toyed with her hair or rubbed her arm in a gentle affirmation that she was precious to him.

 It was wonderful, but it wasn’t enough. Alice couldn’t ignore the way her pussy throbbed with need and begged to be pounded into until she lost all sense of reason.

There had to be a way to get Jack to end the game sooner without losing.

Another kiss to her cheek, along one of her most prominent scars. The action was so tender and loving that her insides fluttered despite her frustration. It wasn’t just her chest that constricted with emotion, and Alice caught the shuddering breath Jack let out, as well as the small noise that was suspiciously like a whimper. It was so cute.

It also gave Alice an idea.

Jack was in the middle of his signature, when a gentle squeeze around his dick sent a jolt of pleasure through him that caused him to scrape his pen across the page. He had to take a moment to compose himself, but another squeeze drew out a whimper that he failed to bite back.

“Sunshine,” Jack said in a slightly husky tone.

“Hmm?” Alice asked with an innocent smile painted on her lips.

“I told you to keep still,” Jack chided as he poked one of her pinked cheeks with a finger.

Alice just made her faux innocence even more obviously fake as she batted her eyelashes cutely at Jack. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said sweetly even as she squeezed around his dick again, her voice catching a little. It also sent a shudder through him and into her that felt absolutely delicious. “I haven’t moved my hips an inch, just like you told me to.”

Jack eyed his mischievous sunshine with a considering look, but found his train of thought interrupted by another jolt of pleasure as Alice tightened herself around him again. He moaned her name despite his composure, and he put both hands on her hips to stabilize himself, only for her to do it again, and again, wearing him down in the most wonderful of ways.

Maybe the game wouldn’t be so easy for Jack to win after all.

[randonowrong]

Sir Billiam (Technoblade), Ranbutler (Ranboo), and James (Sapnap) x Servant! Reader [HCs]

A/N: I put it under the cut because it’s so long. I honestly just started writing and unknowingly put so many words into these headcanons. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Lord Billiam III (Technoblade):

You are one of his many employees at the estate.

You were an orphan that was brought (bought) by his parents to serve at the estate since their servants kept dying or leaving.

Growing up you were taught how to do household chores by the older servants.

Seeing as you are in the same age range as their son, your masters decided to make you his personal servant.

With how Billiam grew up into an adult, I would assume that he was taught this during his childhood.

His parents were very critical of the social divide between you and their son.

You never forgot the reminders that you were nothing compared to them.

Billiam kept the act his parents wanted whenever he interacted with you in front of them.

But he was always kind and gentle with you compared to the other servants even his parents weren’t present.

He taught you how to read and write, leaving you with his favorite books whenever he had business to attend.

He loved when you ran to him to ask something about the book that you couldn’t understand, or when you didn’t know what a word meant.

This went on for years until his parents caught you in his room reading while he wrote at his study.

He heard them start screaming profanity at you and he ran into his room to see you being dragged by the hair outside.

He walked forward to help you but his father told him to stay because they had to deal with the “filth”.

Months went by without him hearing or seeing you. He assumed the worst, his parents had you killed.

During the period, he refused to have another servant but you.

He acted out against his parents’ orders and started on his path to independence.

He focused on his studies and work so that he could take over the family business and lands so that he can find you.

After a long time, he finally saw you again.

This was when he stayed up late due to managing some family matters and he stepped out of his room to get some fresh air.

There you were, in the servant’s clothes, on your knees and wiping the floor clean.

“Y/N?” he asked, reaching out to you.

After you heard him you stood up and took a deep bow. “I apologize for disturbing you my lord, I shall leave immediately.”

He had no time to stop you from taking the cleaning supplies and booking it downstairs.

Every future instance where he tried to talk to you was met with profuse apologizing and leaving.

He eventually gave up on interacting with you, as in the few moments that you do, you make it clear you don’t want anything to do with him.

Without his anchor, his tether that kept him humane, he was consumed by the snobbish teachings of the aristocracy.

When his parents finally died, Billiam became the sole owner of the many properties and subsidiaries his parents’ managed.

His cruelty knew no bounds, severely punishing servants who made a slight mistake. Servants...except you.

When the heir became the lord, you had become appointed as the head servant of the estate, in charge of managing and teaching the staff to serve.

Servants would notice the tense air that hung when you and their employer would interact, the casual reports on the happenings at the estate, servants being laid off for mistakes, etc.

The first time you two had conversed without the awkwardness is when a deal he wanted to secure fell through. He was livid, destroying everything in his quarters.

Knowing that any miniscule slight while Billiam was furious would result in severe punishment, you took it upon yourself to fix the room. Deciding to spare the other servants from possible suffering.

When the noise of glass being thrown, tables being flipped, and paintings being torn had ceased, you decided to enter the room and tend to your lord.

Billiam stood by his overturned desk. Shards of glass from the decorations he threw stuck in his bleeding hand. 

“My lord you are injured, please allow me to tend to your wounds.” he tensed after hearing your voice call out to him. 

Turning around he observed the wreckage that he caused, his eyes stopping on your figure holding a rag and setting down a basin of water on the ground.

The room grew silent as you were crouched down and tending to Billiam, no sound threatened to escape from either of you. 

When you finished picking out the shards and cleaning the wounds you stood up with the basin, now colored red, to leave the room when he grabbed your hand “Stop.”

Complying, you stopped in your tracks and faced him. “Yes my lord?”

“I-I...” he clenched his fists, trying to find the right words to tell you.

His mind cleared, he knew what he needed first from you. “I command you to tell me why you were and have been avoiding me!” he shouts, raising his voice.

You sigh, eyes drifting to stare at the floor as your lips open to answer. “It would be best to show you my lord.” you answer, setting down your things, you untie the affixes of your attire.

With the last of the strings untied, you turn around and move your top to expose your back to him. 

His mouth agape, he stared at the lashes on your back, the burn marks, the deep cuts. “Wha-”

“It was your parents, my lord. They did not like it when they saw how close we were.” you added, beginning to fix yourself back up.

You felt him crash into you, pulling you into a tight hug, as his breath fanned your nape. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” you feel warm tears fall on your bare neck.

You let him be open with his emotions, as the dam that kept all of the pain in for the past years cracks and floods out. You hear him mumble apology after apology to you.

When his tears falter, you turn around and pull him into a hug. Tangling your hand in his hair and nudging his head into your neck to comfort him.

“Don’t apologize for feeling what you feel.”

His breath hitches as you continue speaking.

“And don’t apologize for loving me.”

That night was spent with Billiam being in your arms as he had wanted to be for years, finally feeling the warmth he did when you were both young.

The next day, your belongings were being moved by the servants outside of your quarters. Under orders from Lord Billiam they answered when you questioned why.

“You will no longer be the head servant, (Y/N).” Billiam stated as he walked towards you accompanied by three maids.

“From now on you shall be mine, the spouse of Lord Billiam III.” he smirked, holding out a hand for you.

You reach out and grab his hand “Yes, my lord.”

Ranbutler (Ranboo):

A fellow servant under the employ of Lord Billiam III.

The both of you were employed on the same day, as your new master needed more servants to manage the happenings around his vast estate.

Ranboo had no time to introduce himself to you as work was immediately shoved upon his shoulders, he would be acting as the personal servant at the side of Lord Billiam.

You, meanwhile, were in charge of managing the storehouse and making sure everything your master needed was in stock.

Life...is hard when serving under an aristocrat, more so under Lord Billiam. 

He was very critical of everything and all he does is done with utmost perfection. Failure wasn’t allowed at his manor.

Thankfully, you were able to adjust easily to your job. Taking walks around the estate to question the denizens of the necessities which were needed. Being able to pick out the most affordable but high quality items.

Which lead to you being one of the few that did not catch the ire of your master. He had even given a sarcastic statement which sounded like a compliment? You were unsure if he was capable of complimenting a mere servant.

When Lord Billiam needed to attend to business away from the city, he left Ranboo in charge of acting in his stead, as one of his closest aides.

Most of the servants breathed a collective sigh of relief when the carriages, carrying your master, had left the confines of the property.

The few servants that stood by the side and watched the others silently knew something.

They couldn’t slack just because he wasn’t here. Lord Billiam has eyes and ears everywhere, so slacking off was something never to be done.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Ranboo walk and stand beside you. “Lord Billiam wants stocks of wine and other refreshments to be present in the cellar by the time he arrives. He specifically instructed to only procure the best, so do not worry about the cost.”

You nod and continue watching the rambunctious bunch of servants. “Of course. I assume Lord Billiam instructed you about that?” you question.

He gives a slight nod and turns to walk back inside the manor leaving you.

The next day, most of the servants had taken it upon themselves to have fun while doing their job. The cooks used ingredients to cook meals for themselves, the cleaners allowing dust and dirt to gather on the furniture.

You took your daily stroll around the place, taking mental notes of whatever the servants you crossed paths with were doing. 

Absentmindedly you bumped into someone’s chest and mumbled a quick “Sorry.”

Looking up you came faced with the trusted aide of your lord. “Would you like to join me for afternoon tea?” he invited, gesturing to the direction of the balcony.

You raise a brow and begin walking with him towards the balcony. In your mind you wonder what his plans may be, knowing Lord Billiam must have trusted him with that.

Arriving at the balcony a gentle breeze blew through your hair as you looked at the table in front of you. An assortment of treats and sweets were laid out, a pot of tea with two cups and saucers present as well.

Ranboo walked to one of the chairs and pulled it out, gesturing for you to take a seat. When you did, he walked to his own and began pouring the hot beverage. 

The two of you sat in silence, the only sound being heard were the chirping of the birds that flew overhead. 

“So...I presume that you are on the same orders as I am?” you break the silence, taking a sip from your cup and staring at him for an answer.

He nods. “Sir Billiam has entrusted me with this job and I must fulfill it dutifully. You must understand so, (Y/N).” he grabs the pot and pours himself another cup. 

“Yes...we must weed out the imperfections that our lord does not need.” you hum, staring at your reflection in the tea. “As our lord’s favored aids, you being publicly known, and I with the others being secret, must serve without fault.”

Your eyes both held a dark gleam, staring at each other with understanding of your orders. “Well, I am thankful for the tea, but I must continue with my work.” you stand and set down your saucer. “I enjoyed our small discussion. I hope to speak with you more in the future, now excuse me.”

The succeeding days were a blur, although your master was absent from the manor, there was still a backlog of work and duties which had to be done. Having to continue observing the other servants, managing deliveries and orders to and from the estate, and making sure your discussion with the butler was kept private.

Oh yes, speaking of the butler. He would be at each of your turns, giving his insight on what sir Billiam would order and keeping the estate running. 

You would catch him in the corner of your eye, staring at you from the shadows. Though this did not faze you as he was just following commands, as was you.

When Lord Billiam III returned a week later all the servants stood outside to receive their Lord. They all stood firmly, heads bowing low, and no noise threatening to escape their lips. “Welcome back my Lord!” you all collectively shout.

You and Ranboo stood at the head of the two lines. Lord Billiam began to stride towards the entrance when he stopped in his tracks. “You two, follow me.” he commanded and continued on his path.

“Yes my lord.” you both answer, raising your heads and following him, keeping a suitable distance. 

Arriving in front of the doors to his quarters, you both took steps forward and opened the double doors and bowing. You could feel the smirk that Sir Billiam held as he walked in, the two of you soon following and closing the doors.

Taking a seat at his study, Billiam put his hands together and set his elbows on the table. “Now, give me a detailed report you two.” he ordered.

You both nodded and gave detailed statements on what happened at the estate in the duration of his absence. Every mistake, every success, every mishap, everything. With him nodding to each explanation.

“I knew picking you two as my personal aides wasn’t a mistake.” he chuckles. “Now leave, I have work to do.” he states, voice turning cold.

In the morning, all the servants were gathered in the main hall. They whispered to one another, wondering about the sudden meeting.

The noises stopped as soon as Lord Billiam stood at the head of the stairs overlooking the foyer, he was followed by two servants, the butler and you. 

“Now, you may all be wondering why I have called you all at such an ungodly hour.” he stated, looking at the servants like ants. “It has come to my attention the problems my estate faces, with regards to all of you.” he continues, taking delight in the looks of fear that some held.

“I hereby relieve you all of your duties, leave at once, I have no need for incompetents who slack around when they believe their master isn’t present.” he seethes, glaring at them, before turning and leaving the room.

You and Ranboo glance at each other as you hear the servants cry, some panic, some running to sort out their departure. No matter, you thought, as the butler put a hand on your shoulder and nodded.

He tugged your arm towards the balcony, a soft smile on his face. “Afternoon tea?”

“I would be glad to have some, Mr. Butler.”

Lord James (Sapnap):

You are a servant in service to Lord James’ family for a long period.

You were present from the beginning of his marriage to his subsequent divorce. Acting as one of his wife’s personal servants, in charge of dressing her and tending to her beck and call.

Having been assigned to her, you were well acquainted with Lord James. Being the one to inform him whenever your lady was unavailable.

Though the first interaction between just you two, not involving or speaking about anyone else happened quite later.

It happened after an argument with his wife, who promptly stormed out of the manor, leaving you with her husband. You felt awkward being left in the same room without your lady. 

You were ready to walk out of the room when you suddenly heard him collapse as he began to sob. 

You crouched down and held him up, comfortingly rubbing his back. You were about to speak when you were pulled into a hug, feeling tears fall on your shirt. 

You stayed on the floor, letting James cry his heart out. You continued rubbing his back but stayed silent.

Once his tears stopped flowing, you helped him stand and walk to his bed.

Turning to leave the room, you were stopped when he grabbed your hand firmly. “Stay.” he softly spoke, tugging you towards the bed.

“My lord, we can’t, what would my lady think-” you protested, worried for yourself and for him, already thinking of the scale of this scandal if word got out.

“I just...want someone to hold me, please.” he pleaded, eyes downcast towards the floor. 

You relented as he brought you into an embrace and pulled you into the bed. He rest his head in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin.

Within moments, he had fallen asleep, obviously emotionally drained with all the baggage he’d been carrying. You sigh, running a hand through his soft locks. He stirred in his sleep and moved his head closer to your hand.

You stayed there for a few minutes, a wave of exhaustion washing over you as well. Slowly, you were lulled to sleep with the sound of his breathing...

Awakening, you rubbed your eyes, it was still dark outside possibly nearing daybreak you assumed. Turning your head, you saw Lord James. He still remained clung to your side like a babe.

Although you wanted to stay in the comforts of the soft bed, one which could not be said for your own in the servants’ quarter, you decided to leave before his wife came upon the scene. 

Slowly, you wrung the arm he was hugging from his grasp and stood up from the bed. Fixing your attire you saw as he stirred from his sleep, moving to search for the source of heat that moved away.

You smiled, tugging the blankets over his figure and patting his head one last time before exiting the room.

With a soft click of the door, you scanned the halls, it was empty. You breathed a sigh of relief, it was a good thing no one caught you at this time. You knew what people would assume if they had seen you, a lusty commoner ruins another marriage.

You began your walk towards the servants’ shared quarters, the light of the moon passing through the window lighting your path. 

James awoke the next day, with a blanket draped over him. He smiled, knowing you did this. 

He heard a knock at the door “My lord, breakfast has been served and my lady is looking for you.” a servant called out before the clacking of their shoes indicated they walked away.

Sighing, he began to prepare himself for the day, grabbing a new tunic and fixing his disheveled appearance. 

Arriving at the dining hall, he saw servants running around the place, placing plates and utensils on the table. Some were bringing out the food from the kitchens.

Although his eyes drifted immediately to you. You were stood by his wife and listening to the orders she barked at you. With each command earning a nod of acknowledgement from you afterwards.

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed you and turned to start her meal. You bowed and turned to exit the room when your eyes met James’. You stilled before casting your eyes to the floor and walking out of the hall.

James understood it all too well, once being someone who laughed at the broken marriages of other nobles, caused by them falling prey to their servants’ temptation. He couldn’t laugh, now that he was one of them.

He knew it was wrong though. He was already married, and had a duty to fulfill to his family and wife. While you? You were trying to survive in society, not wanting to be part of any drama.

Snapping out of his trance when his wife called out to him, he sighed and took a seat at the table. Mind still focused on you.

Even though he consummated the marriage and had children with her. His love and yearning for you never faltered. You were by her side every step of their marriage. You took turns with the nannies in watching the children, sometimes being left to care for them when James and his wife went on trips.

Through the years you two did this careful dance. Feathery touches that drifted on your skin for moments before disappearing. Loving glances thrown at each other’s way. The soft tone of his voice when he spoke to you. Though others would think nothing of it, the two of you knew the fragile fantasy going on.

A fragile fantasy that all came crashing down that day.

Screaming could be heard throughout the whole manor, servants stayed quiet and steered away from the room, which you couldn’t really do.

As the personal servant of Lord James’ wife, you stood by the sidelines as they threw words, insults, and the occasional object at each other in their rage.

In her anger she threw one of the decorative stones on the nearby table. Lord James saw it and was able to jump out of the way.

They both stopped when they heard it collide with something else. Turning around, he saw the stone on the floor with blood staining one side of it.

You crouched down from the pain and put a hand on the side of your head, retracting it you could see the red color staining your skin. 

“(Y/N)!” James shouted, running over to help you up when his wife cut in.

“Don’t help that lowly servant! Pay attention to me you bastard! Do you think I wouldn’t notice?!” she shouted.

James paid no mind to her as he caught you in his arms. You had passed out from the blood loss, and probably the concussion on your head.

“Don’t think we aren’t done talking! You still haven’t answered me!” she continued to scream, though her words never reached his ears.

Picking you up he turned and glared at her. “We’ll speak about this tomorrow.” he firmly stated, before walking out and bring you to an empty room so he can tend to you.

You awoke with a headache, it was dark. Sitting up on the bed, you noticed you were one in the spare bedrooms and gripped your forehead as a stinging pain came. Right...you got hit by a rock.

You jumped when you heard the door open. Turning you came faced with Lord James, the upper buttons of his shirt being undone and a hand running through his hair.

He opened his eyes and met yours, then he scrambled towards you. “Are you okay? Is there still pain? Do you want me to call the physician?”

“Please do not worry yourself over me my lord.” you answered, wanting to keep the formality of the situation. Standing up from the bed you put your hand over his, which was placed on the side of your head. 

“I- uh yes.” he coughed, retracting his hand and putting them by his side. “I’m sorry about that, you didn’t need to get caught up in our argument.” 

Your eyes widened, your lady must be looking for you right now. “Excuse me, my lord.” you stated in panic, patting yourself down to look presentable before running out of the room.

“No need, she’s gone.” you heard James state as you stopped in your tracks. “Our divorce will be finalized in a few days, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me or you anymore.”

Thoughts raced through your mind, does she know about the incident, what would happen to you if she did. Your breathing picked up as you stilled.

James brought you into an embrace, your back hitting his chest as he dipped his head into the top of your head and inhaled. Your hair smelled lovely, comparable to that of other noble ladies. He shut the door, wanting to keep the privacy between you two.

“My lord, we shouldn’t it isn’t proper.” you stated, keeping firm on the fact you wanted to preserve not only your reputation but more importantly his.

“I don’t care.”

“But what would others think?”

“I don’t care.” he firmly stated, turning you around and pushing you against the wall.

“For years I’ve kept these feelings inside and now that there isn’t anything stopping me, I can finally express these repressed emotions.” he continued.

“I...I...-” he trailed.

“I command you to love me!” he shouted. trapping you against the wall with his forehead touching your own. 

You sigh in defeat and finally relent, reaching up and cupping his cheek, “I already do, my lord.”

[bangtanfancamp]

Champagne Silk | KNJ

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⋅summary: Almost year ago, you became the arranged bride of the most powerful man in the city, Kim Namjoon, but this morning, with you, he’s just a man who’s head over heels for you who can’t help getting lost thinking about his future with you.

Alternatively: no matter how powerful a man Namjoon is, he is still a klutz in the kitchen. A sexy klutz though.

⋅ author’s masterlist

⋅part two of the Silk series ( read part 1 here)

⋅also the second installment of breakfast with bangtan series (masterlist here)

⋅pairing: mafia!namjoon x reader

⋅genre: mafia! au, arranged marriage! Au, smut, fluff, angst, established relationship

⋅word count: 15.5k words

⋅rating: mature

⋅warnings: a generous amount of consensual sexual activities 🙃, brief scene of oral sex, impregnation kink, a shared bath tub, multiple instances of christiana being uncomfortable with using proper technical names for genitalia and being intentionally ambiguous instead. (honestly it’s more tame and wholesome than you think but god, if these two aren’t hot for each other )

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“Damn it.” 

The sound comes rumpled from the other side of the kitchen, like someone’s trying to keep it hidden. It’s so subdued and muttered that around anyone else, it might have been successfully hidden. But not right now. And certainly not with you. Because you know the distinct, adorable huff of your husband’s regret in an instant.

“You all right over there, darling?” There’s an innocence in your voice to hide your humor.

“Promise you won’t laugh if I tell you?” 

“Oh, unfortunately I can do no such thing, my love. You’ll just have to brave the odds and tell me.” 

Your smile is benevolent, but unyielding. You politely, pleasantly even, refuse to give him another option, and he knows it. It’s that simple. Even with his back to you, he knows the jig is up. As he hunches with heavy shoulders, he sighs and mutters something too low for you to pick up at first.

“Once more for the people in the back, yeah?” You tease.

“I said, I spilled wine on everything,” he exhales. 

His voice is tinged in shades of caramel, rich with resignation, as he confesses, stepping aside so you can see the mess he’s made. 

“Oh, Joon.” 

A terribly bright fondness pulls your lips into a smile as your clumsy giant sheepishly ducks his head across the room. His once pristine white shirt, his linen pants and your white antique tablecloth are all freshly dip dyed in swirls of Pinot Grigio and rosé.

“I know. I know. You don’t have to say it.” His eyes flit down to the stack of too many wine glasses slotted between his large fingers that have spilled their bounty across every available fabric surface.

“You have no idea what I’m about to say,” you point out graciously.

Crossing the room, you tip up on your toes to press a tender kiss to the spots where his jolly dimples would show if he weren’t so flustered. 

“MmmHmm. Sure I don’t.” He squints at you while you slip one glass at a time out of his grip and reach for a cloth.

“Precisely. You shouldn’t assume, Namjoon. You know what they say.” You smirk, wetting the cloth with water you know will be too frigid for him to stand in this half asleep state he’s in, but the stains have got to go.

“And what exactly do they say?” His large palms dip to rest on his hips as he braces for your commentary.

“Simply that assumptions only make an ass out of you and me so…”

His nose scrunches in distaste, even as he starts to laugh. “What a beastly phrase. I forget how much delicacy Americans have.” 

“Oh heaps of it. More than they know what to do with, really.” You shrug as you wring out the cloth. “Positively genteel. Is that not why you chose to marry one?” You add with a wry smile.

Glancing down at the bands on your finger, you warm at the way they glisten in the bits of lazy Sunday light filtering through the window. Namjoon’s glints golden across the room as he waits for your rescue. Both still new enough to feel like a novelty. Enough to make a small light inside you beam with pride whenever you catch sight of it.

“I chose to marry the only one I could find who was quick enough to get the stains I make out before they set and sweet enough not to give me grief for it.” He arches an eyebrow down at you in challenge as you slip one hand past the deeply undone row of buttons on his shirt to pull the fabric up and away from his skin as you begin to gently blot at the wine.

“Oh no. Well, I hate to inform you of this, but unfortunately, I’m actually 0 for 2 in those qualifications. But I will sincerely try my best since you’ve placed so much trust in me.” You chuckle as you set to work. “Would it be helpful if I mention what a smart wife you have to have ixnayed buying that cabernet sauvignon you wanted so badly, especially given your current predicament?”

Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dipping to press his nose against your own while shaking his head. 

“No. Not in the slightest.”

“See? That’s good to know. Would have been awful if I mentioned the Merlot I put back too then. Can you imagine? Could have been so unseamly.”

He laughs, smiling against your hairline. “Well, what would have been the point of whisking my bride all the way out to a little villa in wine country and inviting guests only to not serve them red wine?”

“The point would have been you not turning into the kool-aid man whenever said wine inevitably spilled all over you. Case in point.” You look up at him through wide, fluttered lashes as you press the icy cold cloth against a particularly bold splatter on his chest. The frigid water grazes his nipple through his thin shirt and your giant of a man winces like he was wounded on the playground.

“Hey, that’s freezing.” He moves to swat your hand away. 

“Would you rather just take this off then? So I can work properly,” You smirk.

“No,” he sighs. “That would just be colder.” 

He looks so adorable right now. The lavender locks you’d once loved so well have been replaced, faded into a dusty blonde instead. His thick hair, usually coiffed so neatly, so perfectly, is currently disheveled entirely. Bits that had been gently curated to frame his face the night before are now plastered to his forehead, others shooting off at odd angles, all from falling asleep on the couch beside you once your dinner guests finally left late last night. 

He’s still in last night's now stained and rumpled clothes, still looking absolutely divine with the sleeves cuffed against his elegant forearms and his now wide open neckline thanks to the buttons undone all the way down past his rib cage.

His body is every bit a grown man, but his sleepy features- those wide eyes and pouted lips- make him look every bit the little boy you saw once in his mothers photo albums the week of the wedding. Big Namjoon still makes the same faces when he makes a mess as little Namjoon, and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.

“Don’t be such a weenie,” you tease. 

“Careful who you tease, woman. You’re the only one in this city who forgets how many people are afraid of me.”

“This city is half a day’s drive away. There’s no one to fear you here,Joonie. Besides, your enemies have clearly never seen how quickly you’d fall in a battle against the cold or else you would have been displaced ages ago,” you tease with a twinkle in your eyes as he narrows his at you.

“I don’t think you’d like ice water on your breasts first thing in the morning either.” He huffs under his breath.

“You never know til you try,” you wink.

“Would you like to try?” His eyes rake over you salaciously despite the tenderness in his smile. 

“No, I can’t say that I do,” you chuckle, pushing a palm against his chest. “Besides, it’s hardly first thing in the morning, Joon. It’s almost noon.” You nod toward the clock.

There’s still sleep in his voice when he laughs, the sounds rich and resonant where it blooms from his chest. “Well, it’s still morning for me when we didn’t fall asleep til well after 3 because our guests don’t know when to leave.”

You smile to yourself at the memory of time spent with your friends. Well, more accurately Namjoon’s friends, i.e. the members of his crew who have become like family to both of you. Namjoon’s been on the move so much with work lately that there’s been no time to simply sit and enjoy their company. You were in raptures when he suggested they join you for dinner last night.

“It was so good to see Hoseok and Jungkookie though. Their new girlfriends seem so sweet.” 

Namjoon’s gaze seems far off somewhere as he listens to you.“They do, don’t they? JK’s seemed spunky too. She’s good for him.” 

“I think so too. He spent half the night blushing- he was so happy. It was good to see him so over the moon for once, that little romantic.”

Namjoon smiles, a soft thing nestled in the pocket of his cheek, full of fondness for the youngest of his friends. “Yeah, I’m glad he finally found someone so good for him.” 

Pulling you in, he kisses you gently, once, twice before pressing his lips to the top of your forehead, an unspoken “as good as you are for me” hidden his warm brown eyes.

“Big softie,” you whisper, reaching up to cradle his face, thumb brushing over his cheeks. He tips his face toward your palm to plant a kiss there too, his lips just brushing the inside of your wedding band as you smile.

“For you? Always.”

“For me? It was the food last night. God, That charcuterie board Jin brought was positively masterful.” The memory alone has your mouth watering. “Such a shame it was all gone so soon though.”

“Ooo, speaking of,” Namjoon slips out of your grip to rustle around in the kitchen behind you. “Not quite.” 

“What did you do?” You narrow your eyes at him as you settle into a wooden chair to start tending to the swirling stains on the tablecloth.

“Oh, the best thing. Husband of the year level best thing.”

“Husband of the year? Can't wait to see this then. Very moderate expectations, indeed.”

With his back to you, you can’t see what he’s up to, but you can certainly hear it. Especially the low grunt when his hip snags on the new island counter. This poor man was clearly made for a different life than this old world kitchen provides. You wonder which will go first, your husband or the architectural detail. You chuckle to yourself until you realize exactly what it is he’s carrying.

“Kim Namjoon, is that-?”

“A mini stolen charcuterie board? You bet it is,” he winks your way, and a storm of winged things flutter in your stomach.

“How did you even-“

“When you had everyone gathered in the backyard, and Jimin tripped over the cord for the string lights.”

“I’ll never know how such a graceful man can cause such disasters. Or how you managed to befriend the only other man on earth as poised and clumsy as you all at once,” you chuckle, stealing a fig from the corner of the board as he peels back the plastic film covering it. “Oh my god, that’s so good.”

“Mmm Hmm. I knew you thought so,” he taps you on the nose lovingly. “You always ask Jin to make these for you, and then you’re always so sad when all twelve people you invite make it vanish in half an hour.”

“I know. I know. It would go farther if there were fewer people to share it with, but Joon, the boys are like family. I haven’t seen them all together in so long. I couldn’t bear to leave anyone out.”

There’s a twinkle glinting in his eyes as he smiles down at you. He’s glad to see how soft your heart somehow remains despite the life you both lead. 

“Which is precisely why I took the liberty of stashing some of this bounty away while the guests were busy and saving it for you.” 

When he smiles at you like that, all softened edges and warm brown eyes, it’s impossible not to fall in love with him all over again. It’s not like you’ve forgotten how kind he is or how striking he can be when he smiles. It’s simply that the more you see it, the more in love you become.

Rising up in your chair, you reach across the table to tenderly cradle his cheek.

“I hate to say this, because then you’ll know you were right, but this is really is an excellent submission for husband of the year. I would like to point out, though, that you are welcome to make as many entries as you’d like before the panel comes to a consensus, you know.” 

He smiles so wide that his eyes get lost in their beautifully crinkled edges. “I’ll keep it in mind. Now, they do say that you should play toward the judge’s preferences. Would you happen to know any? To help me get that inside edge.”

“Now, now. I can’t help you cheat. You’ll have to conduct your own research.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. We have a strict moral code. They’d ruin me if I let that sort of intel slip.” You tilt your chin up in defiance despite your smirk and laughing eyes.

“Hmm. We can’t have that, can we? Shame. I really thought this was going to be my year.”

“Do you really think the only way you’d win is to cheat? Come now...it can still be your year if you play your cards right.”

Your hand drifts up to his carelessly perfect hair, fingers gliding through it and tugging a bit near his scalp. One of his favorite ways to receive affection you’ve found out this past year. His lids fall heavy before he can catch them, a small hiss catching behind his teeth that means you’ve done it right.

“Careful. You don’t know what you might be starting.” His eyes wander the edges of your lips, trace the frame of your collarbone.

“I’d never take the risk if I wasn’t ready to face the consequences.” The twist of your lips is subtle, as gentle as the seduction you’ve learned is your forte. 

Namjoon licks his lips, the lower one snagging in his teeth as his eyes drift over you. Without breaking his gaze, he takes a champagne grape from the board and lifts it to your lips. You can feel your pulse flutter and quicken beneath your skin. It always does when he eyes you like that.

The man might as well be a snake charmer for all the control you feel like you have over yourself right now as your mouth parts of its own accord for him. But just before the fruit can graze your lips, his grin widens- wicked with delight- as he decides to pop it in his own mouth instead.

His dimples are so deep as he laughs at your flustered state that you wish you could crawl inside them and hide.

“Ha Ha. Very funny, Joon. Tease the woman you claim to love. Excellent way to keep a happy wife.” 

Rolling your eyes, you push off from the table, fully intent on doing... you have no idea what, exactly. All you know is that you need to get away from this table as fast as you can before you knock the carefully preserved remnants of this charcuterie board to the floor and take him on the table.

 The blush that was rushing to your cheeks is now crashing in your ears and all you can think to do is “go,” but before you can get even half a step too far, Namjoon’s warm, impossibly large hand is already wrapping itself around your wrist and grounding you to your spot.

“All I want is a happy wife,” he laughs. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I thought I made that pretty clear from the first day.”

Slowly, he stands as his hand trails its way down to dance across your palm before lacing your fingers with his. 

“Certainly doesn’t feel like it right now,” you pout, despite the excitement thrumming in your veins. You know that look on his face now. The one that’s evil and beautiful, sincere and serpentine. The one that wants to devour you playfully. To love you even as he ruins you.

“Oh no,” he tsks. “That won’t do.” 

Suddenly, he snaps you to him, his hands fastening themselves to the dip in your waist. You gasp, the force making you brace against his smooth, exposed chest to catch yourself.

“It won’t?” Your voice comes out airy, too thin, as the morning breeze billows through the open windows. 

“No. Not at all. So I wanna know: how can I fix this, baby?” His eyes are possessed by something wicked as one hand leaves your waist to trace a thumb over your parted mouth.

“I- I”

“Shh, I made this mistake. I’ll make it right.” He arches a single brow as his tongue wets his lips, and your brain loses any grip on rational thinking.

“And h-how do you plan to do that?” It’s a whisper- too breathy, too barely coherent. His hands are so warm. His touch is like lightning and suddenly even breathing requires too much energy with the way you feel like you’ve shorted out.

“I don’t know. You tell me, baby.” His knuckle tips it’s way under your chin, tilting your face up to his as you follow in obedience.

“But… I thought… I told you. The judge can’t help.” You swallow, lashes fluttering shut as his breath ghosts over your lips.

“Then she can’t get what she wants,” he challenges.

“Fair enough. That’s fair.” Your head bobbles in assent. 

“So I’ll try this again,” his face dips down until his mouth rests just below your ear. “What do you want, baby?”

You feel lightheaded as you melt in hands, rushing out the words, “Counter. Now. Please.”

 Your expression folds in on itself in satisfaction when Namjoon grips you around the waist and plants you on the kitchen island without a moment's hesitation. You gasp, airy and quick, before his palm is fitted against the curve of your throat with just the amount of pressure he’s learned that you like.

“Good girl. Open your legs for me, baby.”

A muffled inhale later, your knees have parted where you’re sat on the island and Namjoon is fitted between them, his hips to the counter as he kisses you in earnest. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp as his tongue and open mouth work their way down your throat, painting wide open blossoms of scarlet and blush along the way. Your hands are in his hair, at his scalp, tugging and grabbing to bring him back to your kiss. His taste is tinged salty and sweet from your skin and the grapes, and your thighs wrap themselves tight around the narrow slope of him.

He’s gotten so broad since the wedding day. If you had trouble composing yourself around him then god only knows how you’ve survived the past year. His shoulders seem wider, his arms more substantial, his chest impossibly inviting as you claw at the last remaining buttons of his dress shirt. 

“Off. Off. Take this off.” You push at the sleeves that bunch around the arcs of his newly swollen biceps, taking a moment to drink in how beautiful they are as you clutch at his golden skin. 

“So eager now. What happened to my shy girl?” His voice is teasing, light, but his eyes look proud of you.

“You did things like this to her, and now she can’t get enough.” Your mouth fits itself to the beautiful stretch of bare skin beneath his ear, suckling the indescribable taste of him before traveling down his throat and across his jaw.

He laughs, something deep and melodic, before his fingers begin to glide over your collarbone and dance over your arms, featherlight, like he always does when he’s trying to rile you up.

“Should I get this out of our way then?” His fingers tug at the slim straps of your champagne blush dress. You’d worn it especially for him at last night’s party. You’d never forgotten his affinity for your skin draped in silk.

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I do, baby. It’s perfect.”

“Then why do you want me to take it off?”

 Your voice is sticky sweet with innocence, but Namjoon knows better. He doesn’t know where you got the wherewithal to tease him right now as he holds you pressed against his growing warmth, but when your eyes flick to his, he knows you’ve made the right choice. He likes it when you challenge him. It makes it more fun when he wins.

“So I can do this,” he grins with a flash of his teeth.

Without missing a beat, he’s slipped both straps clean off your shoulders, leaving the dress to pool around your hips, and scoops one of your soft breasts gently into his mouth. Your breath comes sharp, a stuttered, inhaled moan that tastes as sweet to him as the ripened figs on the tray. Deliciously priceless. 

He still can’t get over you. He doesn’t think he ever could. He’s never reached a point where the sounds you make fail to set his world ablaze. He’d like nothing more than to make drawing them out of you every morning just like this his sole profession.

Reverently, his other hand brushes up your side to cradle your other breast beside it. God, they’re so soft. Namjoon is almost ashamed to admit how infatuated he is with your breasts.  It would be embarrassing if you weren’t equally in love with receiving all the attention he gives them.

What can he say? He’s a simple man. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to him and for him? They’re perfect. Even with all the exploration the two of you have shared this past year, he knows this part of your body has got to be his favorite- your skin there is so velvet smooth and supple, so delicately sensitive, so perfectly sized for him to devour to his heart's content.

As his tongue warms the tender skin of your nipple with affection, and his thumb steadily plays with the other, he feels the muscled grip of your thighs tighten against him. The sounds you make for him as you clutch at the edge of the granite might as well be a symphony. He loves you like this. Wild and coming undone at his touch and attention. No one in the world but you and him.

“J-joon, baby.. I-“

Looking up at you through heavy eyes, entirely impressed with himself, he smiles and flicks his tongue against you again. When the jolt makes you jump, he stands to his full height above you, and sets his hands back on your sides.

“What is it, baby? You have to tell me.”

Your brows crumple in softly as you look up at him through your lashes. If you could speak, you would, but the way he plays you like an instrument with no effort at all always seems to dispose of your grace.

“But Namjoon…”  you’re trying and failing to catch your breath as both his thumbs come to lazily torment the soft swells of your chest. 

“You know what you like. You know what you want. Just tell me.”

You’ve barely got enough breath to function as it is, let alone to form a sentence. “But baby, I can’t…”

“Then I’m afraid you can’t have it.” He tuts. “Not if you can’t ask.” 

His grin is wicked, and as much you want to drown in it, something in you wants to wipe it off his pretty face.

“Not… fair…”

He runs his tongue over his teeth as he smiles.

“Really? Because to me, what’s not fair,” he grips your hips, snatching you forward that last little inch to sit snug against his hips, “is me giving you a prize you haven’t earned.”

His hands dip to cup the curve of your backside,

his fingers digging deep into the silk and softness he finds there as he continues.

“ What’s not fair is the way you teased me in this little dress last night when you knew there would be too many people around for me to enjoy it properly…”

Dipping down, his sumptuous lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What seeing you in this dress all night did to me?”  

As yet another lightheaded gasp leaves your lips, a dark, satisfied chuckle leaves his. 

“H-how would I know?” your air comes in shaky as he has his way with you

“You know, baby girl. You always know.”

 As his fingers dip firmly into the globes of your backside, he begins gently, just barely, rocking against you. No hurry. No fuss. Just maddening, slow pressure as he grazes you. When an airy moan comes whimpering from your lips, his strong hands tense, keeping your hips too fixed to succumb to moving with him.

“But you didn’t... say anything.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his face lowers toward yours. You can feel the brush of his lips ghosting over the edges of your cheek, his nose tracing against your skin.

“Don’t act like you couldn’t tell. You know silk always does me in.”

His fingers slip across your stomach where your dress has pooled to rest. They ghost like a whisper over your hips and down your legs until they reach the hem of your skirt. He fits his hands against your skin and drags them up achingly slowly, willing his touch to memorize the feel of your skin along the way as he pushes the fabric up inch by merciless inch- all while never stopping the insatiable way his lips move warm against yours.

His touch and his kiss are languid, unhurried, as he sets you on fire. When he reaches your thighs, his palms splay across them, his thumbs dragging along the inner swell of your legs as your vision begins to blur. 

He’s taking his time. He’s teasing you and enjoying it. It’s evident in the way he slows down the higher he gets. The way his mouth begins to travel down your throat in kisses so soft, so divinely sweet, that you swear you’re growing lightheaded from the swelling rush of pleasure.

His thumbs have made their way to the folds of your hips, his hands hidden beneath the fabric as your body lights up electric at his touch. Like if it shines bright enough for him, he might bless it with all that you know he is capable of. But even though he knows you’re more than willing, your tease doesnt satiate your body or her cravings for him just yet.

Instead, he slows down further. He fits his hands on the outer edges of your hip while his kisses turn gentle, calming, resolving, as if he has no intention of following through further after riling you up like this.

“What are you— why are you stopping?” Your eyes flit between his, a subtle , whining irritation building up beside your impatience when he doesn’t move. He’s quiet at first, in no rush to answer. As his beautiful face hovers over you, he's so smug you almost want to slap him for toying with you like this. 

But that won’t get you what you want. What you need. So Instead, you take one of his hands and press it to your breast as you guide the other toward the center of you.

He plays along at first, until his fingers are about to brush the part of you that’s positively tingling for his touch, and he abruptly pulls back, resting both of his hands on the countertop on either side of you.

“Ah, ah. That’s for when you use your words, my sweet.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, and suddenly, you’ve never been more greedy or more furious. 

Snatching at his waistband, you pull his hips forward and slip your hand over the linen to hold him. His breath catches at the back of his throat, and his eyes go wide, dumbfounded at the shift in power.

“And I said, the judge can’t tell you the answers.”

You level him with a look of quiet confidence as your fingers slip between his skin and the linen to hold him where he wants you most. His brows tip into softened u’s as the coolness of your touch brushes against him.

“Husband of the year should know what I want by now. I shouldn't have to tell him.”

You grasp him, fingers running delicately up the underside of him at the same time that you lick into his mouth. You feel him dip a bit as his knees buckle, making his hands on the counter the only thing holding him up.

“Mother of god,” he mumbles, even as his hips move in compliance with your touch. “Where did you learn that?”

“From the best,” you beam. Your smile is genuine, sweet and blindingly bright. It makes him want to take a bite out of the apples of your cheek, so he does. A playful nip that has you giggling and him pressing his lips together in fondness. 

The moment is sweet, until you catch his eyes with that same saccharine smile on your face, and take your hand away. His mouth opens, about to protest, until he watches you run your tongue in a long, slow stripe up your fingers before reaching back down behind his waistband to run the wet digits over his heated skin as you grasp him.

“Oh my… fuuuuck,” he exhales, his weight dropping to press into the counter. His face dips to lean against yours as he struggles to stay lucid. This feels so good, so out of nowhere, that his body is bursting to life more rapidly that he can keep up with. 

With every movement you make, he moves with you, gasping through his open mouth with every touch as he tries to keep his composure. Leaning into your forehead, he feels his nose bumping against yours as he searches for air. He feels nearly lightheaded but god, you’re incredible. Your touch feels so good- he never wants you to stop. 

Still, he wants control back though. To make you as much of a mewling mess as you’re currently making of him. He was enjoying the game you were both playing before, but he likes the feeling of winning more. However, just when he thinks he’s got a way to get the upper hand back, you ever so lightly twist your grip as you pump him, and suddenly, he can’t tell if he’s dying, ascending or blacking out. 

It feels so good so fast that he can barely remember his own name, let alone stage a coup. Your fingertips gently play with the tip of him at the top of each swell in your fluid flourish, and suddenly he can’t think of anything else to do with all this bursting excess inside of him but to kiss you. So he does. Open mouthed. Sloppy. Full of want. It feels so incredible that you can’t help but laugh brightly into his mouth, ethereally elegant, even as you wreck him. 

As you work, he can feel the way he’s growing harder with your attention, the way his blood feels like it’s singing the longer you touch him. His hips are obeying you like they belong to you, and at this point, he’s pretty sure they do. His mouth is painting your throat, adding swathes of crimson to the blooms he made before until your neck is colored with an entire bouquet of his affection. 

When he closes his eyes, the light behind them sparkles with effervescence as he listens to the quickness of your breath as you work. The sounds, the moans, the gasps you make as you touch him mingle with sounds of early morning nature and Namjoon wonders if this was what the poets meant when they described paradise. 

Pleasure is cresting over him in warm, molten waves now, and as it builds, he realizes he was wrong.

That as much as he loves your luminous eyes, your serene smile, the softness of your breasts, that those aren’t truly his favorite part of you if he’s honest. At least not right now. Not in moments like these. Because right now, with your hand wrapped around him, wrecking him with craving, that title is held by the treasure between your thighs; and as the blood rushes away from the rest of his body and swells where your hand lies, all he can think of, all he wants, is to bury himself in the wet, velvet warmth of you and never leave.

If he doesn’t get you naked with him inside you within the next three seconds, he thinks he might die.

So he does something about it.

“Open, baby. Open your legs for me,” he demands. It’s firm, commanding, but his eyes are so full of needy want that it’s hard to say who’s really in charge right now. 

Pushing your hand away and placing it on his chest, Namjoon kicks down his linen trousers and slides up your dress as you obey. He springs out, the length of him pressing into the meat of your thigh. It has you whimpering before you can catch yourself.

“God, I knew you were a smart boy. You’d figure it out eventually,” your voice is teasing, but your face is so dizzy, so desperate for him, that he could give you the whole world if you asked.

“You ready for me, baby?” His eyes are half blown with lust, his lashes hanging heavy as he runs his fingers over your opening, before collapsing against your shoulder. “ Oh my god.”

“What is it, Joon?”

“Nothing. I just,” he chuckles once, “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how wet you get for me.”

With no hesitation, he slips two fingers inside you as your belly contracts. Gasping his name, you can’t help but cling to him as light shoots through your body at the incredibly welcome feeling of his hands there.

“Nam- Namjoon, ah!” Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you can feel your nails dig into his sturdy flesh as he begins rocking you with a motion so good, so fluid you fear you may simply float away and never touch the ground again.

“Yes, baby? What is it?” 

“You. I want you. Please.”

“You have me, baby.” His teeth are gritted in focus as he works you, his brow dipped low as he watches how easily you come undone with his attention. Warmth gushes over his fingers as he feels your walls contract in tandem with the tug of your hands in his hair. The sting is sharp and sublime as you grasp him tight with every part of you.

“Inside. Come inside. Need you. Now,” you plead. Your other hand trickles down his torso to the soft hair above his member before holding him firmly with a twist of your hand. He moans, hips canting into your delicate palm.

Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice. Slipping his fingers out of the way, he scoops you safely to the edge of the island, one large hand stroking himself and guiding him to line up with your eager entrance.

The essence of you coats the tip of him without any effort, your body unfolding, so relaxed for him, as he easily begins to slip inside you. It’s so abundant that the slide is effortless, helping him bottom out almost immediately within you. Your head falls back in wonder as he does, your hands quickly planting against the cold counter to catch you. 

Wow. God, Namjoon’s body always has a tendency to overwhelm you, no matter how many times you get caught up in each other like this. You still can’t get over that. Honestly, it would be impossible to when he’s built like he is. 

He’s broad everywhere- that’s obvious to anyone. But here, he’s long and thick, with thighs like tree trunks powering each movement as he glides inside you. Any other time, you might have needed his help to adjust, for him to take his time to warm you up, but this morning? Your body is ready for him, and he knows it. 

It’s unfolding itself for him like a bloom to the sun, and he’s reverent enough to return its worship. You’re so wet that he can feel it trickling down his hip as he pistons into you, and he regrets not dipping down to sample a taste of it before coming inside. But now that he’s here, there’s absolutely no way he’s leaving the warmth of your walls until you're both falling over and spent.

Your ankles are crossed behind him, pulling him as close as you can get him, and his face is pressed against your neck and collarbone as both your hips work in dizzy tandem. The sensation of it sends his consciousness swirling as the pressure in his abdomen builds.

He’s convinced now that you’re a real, actual goddess. There’s no way you could make him feel this divine if you weren’t. Your ambrosia coats his thickness, spilling over him as he thrusts harder, deeper, tilting his hips to curve against that spot inside you that—

“Oh! God! Joon,” you yelp. “Yes, don’t stop.”

His grin is infectious. You can feel it against your skin as you pull him tighter, rocking in time with him as your euphoria builds. Your laugh is bright, sparkling as he licks his fingers and slips them swirling over the sensitive burst between your legs. Your breath catches, his name and profanity tumbling from your lips in equal measure.

You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. Your senses are on overload, your vision darkening around the edges as the pleasure he paints across your body escalates rapidly. Somewhere far off, you can hear his voice. His mouth is near your ear, his breath cooling your skin that’s become sticky with sweat, but you can’t understand, can’t wrap your brain around what he’s saying…

Until you realize that even fully coherent, you’d still be lost because your forever intoxicating husband has slipped back into his native tongue. You love it when this happens. With his senses so thoroughly drowning in you,  translating language just becomes too hard a thing to manage, so the harder and deeper he goes, the lower the bass in his voice becomes as he mumbles in korean against your ear.

You’ve learned enough to catch words like “beautiful” “perfect” and “God, I love you,” but the rest remain a mystery as he captures the innermost parts of your body for himself with swift, perfect strokes of his hips. The depth he’s reaching right now has you in raptures. It has your breath coming in short gasps as your breasts bounce buoyantly with each...incredible… thrust he delivers.

You won’t last much longer. You know it. And All you can think right now is how badly you want to look in his eyes when you come- which you know will happen any second now.

  Between his touch, his voice, the indescribable way he moves his hips when he’s inside you, and the crescendo you feel from the spot he’s internally caressing right now, you know you’re only moments away from dissolving into the atmosphere, yet all you want is more of him.

“Joon, baby, I’m so close. Look at me. Please,” you move one of the hands supporting you to hold his face and bring it to yours.

God, that please of yours. It flows so naturally from your lips when he has his way with you. He doesn’t know how to describe what it unleashes in him, but he knows it never fails to wreck him. “Shh, let go, baby girl. I’m right here. I got you.” 

Before he can think, he’s kissing you deeply, his tongue insatiable as he tastes you. He alternates between kissing you and pulling back to catch your eyes. The depth of affection in his gaze warms you brilliantly from the inside even as you swear you can practically feel his thrust against the underside of your lungs. 

His once seamless rhythm has become all feel and nuance. All order is long lost as he makes his last powerful dives into the depths of you. You can feel it- the tightness in his body, the firm set in his jaw, the profound depth of his voice as he praises your body in Korean. If you were to die like this, caught up in Namjoon’s impeccably loving, gracious body, you wouldn’t have a single regret.

There’s nothing more you could ask for. 

The glittering sensation pulsing through your body let’s you know it’s almost time to surrender, and you’re ready to come undone. Surely, there could be nothing more blissful than this— until Namjoon takes the hand he’s kept gripped around your waist and slips it up to your throat.

Your eyes go wide. 

He really was paying attention. Husband of the year, indeed. 

And just like that, the express trip to ecstasy nearly slams into your body. His eyes are locked on yours. He’s muttering a soft “good girl” and “that’s it, baby” as he works his powerful hips into you. He has one hand clamped firm and perfect below your jaw along your throat, and the other dancing elegantly along the bundle of nerves between your legs. He takes those fingers into his mouth to wet them, his face crumpling in a satisfied moan at the taste of you on his skin, before slipping them back where they belong. 

It’s altogether too much and you are lit up sparkling as the combined sensation of it all builds with the warmth of his body against you, within you. 

“Come for me, baby,” he says it clear and firm, his touch generous to help ease you over the edge. 

“Only if you come with me,” you breathe. Your eyes meet his as you try to find something to hold on to as the tension in you crests. 

He smiles then. All dimples and sweet eyes and perfect lips. He places a sweet kiss on your cheek beside your lips, and that’s all it takes to ruin you.

You feel your body contract around him in bliss as his name spills from your mouth. Making love to Namjoon has never felt commonplace, but there’s something about today. About him. About the sweetness of this morning in the middle of your perfect hidden home with him that makes you burst not only with pleasure, but with love. 

As your orgasm washes over you, you feel illuminated from within like the sun is glowing out of your skin as your body melts against him.

“I love you,” you whisper. “You’re so perfect.”

As your body floats back down from wherever you just astral projected from bliss, you can feel that his body is just a breath away from tipping over the edge itself. He’s pulling back, pulling out, intending to spill himself elsewhere, but in that instant, you realize you don’t want that.

Your memory flashes back to your wedding day. To the moment those hideous people decided to squawk about your child-rearing, heir-producing duty just hours after your vows, and Namjoon had cut them off immediately at the jump and whispered,” don’t pay them any mind. That happens when you’re ready. Not a second before,” soft against your ear. 

It was one of the first instances that made you realize what a good man he was. How willing he was to put your readiness, your comfort, before anyone or anything else. And now, as you take him in, as you remember how truly and deeply you love him, you realize you’re ready for there to be more.

You’ve had countless discussions with him about starting a family, and everytime, without missing a beat, his answer has always been, “whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.” 

You've come to learn over this past year that he’s wanted nothing more than to become a dad since he was a small boy.

You’ve gotten to witness how fun, gentle and gracious he is with his nephews. With Jimin’s daughter, his sweet godchild. For a year, you’ve watched him be good and kind to any child he meets, patient with you, subdued as he hides the depth of his desire to be a father behind his dimpled smiles and suave redirection when you bring it up. 

He’s been willing to wait for you. He never pushes. He never demands. And in this moment, as you study the face of the incredible man who’s welcomed you into his heart and his home, all you want is to begin the journey to give him what you know he will never ask for, even though it’s what the secret parts of his heart want the most. 

“Namjoon,” you whisper,” don’t. It’s okay. You can finish inside me.” You caress his face lovingly as his eyes go wide. 

“Really? But baby… I… what…” Your eternally eloquent man has gone slack jawed in his loss for words as his hips begin to still.

“It’s okay,” you nod. “I want you to. I want to feel you.” You kiss the dip of his dimple.

“Are you sure? i-“ he stumbles before you lovingly cut him off.

“I think it’s about time we start trying for our family, don’t you?” You whisper. Your fingers thread through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes as his face beams with light. His shoulders and chest are shaking with laughter as his eyes flit between yours and he smiles.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” His hands slip up to cradle your face, the most beautiful mixture of excitement and relief and the purest joy making his misty eyes look brilliant in the early light.

“Absolutely,” your voice is soft as you tip your nose against his. Your smile is all pearls and laughter as you reach to grab the full apples of his ass and push him into you.

He’s laughing and smiling and gasping when you do, before happily resuming the final few thrusts he would need to send himself over the edge.

“Use me, baby,” you whisper, eyes alight with the gentle seduction that always ruins him. “I want to feel you when you finish.”

Biting his lip, he swallows and nods, almost too eager, but you’re beautiful and warm and you’ve gotten so tight around him and he can’t help himself. He’s close. He’s already soo close. He’s spent nearly this whole morning trying to contain himself inside you despite the absolutely mind numbing feel of you, and here you are telling him to let go? It’s impossible that you’re real.

Pulling his face to you, he realizes you’re kissing him. Your honey sweet tongue has made a home in his mouth. Your soft breasts brush his chest with every thrust. Your hands are clutching his back and in his hair. Your heels pressed into the back of his legs to pull him close, and now he knows you want to carry his baby.

To allow your body to grow and change just to hold his seed, start his family and realize his dream of not only being a husband to you but a dad to your babies. He’s so in love with you. So maddeningly, ridiculously, stupidly, over the moon in love with you, and all at once, it’s happening.

His release is coming, strong and quick, and he can finally drown in the feeling of it happening while you surround him. His body is reeling at the burst of perfection he feels from losing himself in you like this. The cloud like swells of your thighs pressing around him might very well be the only thing holding him up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I love you.” His face is buried in your neck, your chest, your hair, your cheeks- everything all at once- his full lips dropping kisses on your skin like stars falling from heaven. 

When he pulls back to look at you, he can’t even put what he’s feeling into words. But it’s okay. Because you know. He can see it in your eyes.

Cradling his face, you smile up at him, eyes glossy and happy. “You ready?” 

“To have a baby with you?” His voice falters as his smile grows so wide his eyes nearly disappear. “There isn’t anything I want more.”

Pressing his forehead to yours as he hugs your waist, you both press your noses together and laugh. Overcome with something almost too sweet to simply be called happiness. The word seems too small to encompass it all.

“Maybe I’m not husband of the year yet, cause I definitely didn’t see that coming.” He chuckles.

“Oh shut up. I know you felt how you made me finish. You’re just showing off at this point.”

“I can’t have my baby girl leave anyway but satisfied with me.” He winks, and you smack his chest lightly.

“I’d be mad at you for being so smug if you weren’t actually as great as you think you are,” you scrunch your nose at him as he laughs.

“Well, if there are any areas of improvement I can work on, let me know. I hear I'm about to have a lot of time to workshop your suggestions.” Namjoon lovingly nips at your collarbone, and you tingle in bliss at the thought of how many more moments like this lie in your near future.

“Duly noted. On that note then, I feel compelled to point out that what you just did counted as an excellent submission for husband of the year.”

“Oh really?” He licks his lips slowly as you nod.

“Remember- you can make as many entries as you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Limitless,” you assent. 

“Good to know. I’ll keep it mind,” he smirks, dipping down to lift the fullness of one of your breasts into his hand as he gently kisses the top of the swell of flesh. You sigh into his kiss. This is going to be a spectacular journey— you can already tell.

“Namjoon.”

“Hmm?” His eyes perk up, though his mouth never leaves its preoccupation with your bare chest.

“Is this… is this okay? I hope I didn’t spring this on you too soon or… I don’t know...too out of the blue? Because your comfort is important too, and I—“

You’re swiftly cut off by the sweet press of Namjoon’s delicious lips against yours. “Shh. Yes, I want this. More than anything.”

“So my timing wasn’t—“

“No. It was perfect. You’re perfect,” he kisses the tip of your nose as your lips bloom into a smile. “And if we are going to try to fill that cute belly of yours with a baby, then maybe… maybe this shouldn’t just be a weekend visit.”

Tipping your head to look at him, you feel your brows scrunch. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this has always been our getaway spot. A place to stay safe and lie low when things get jumpy in the city. A place to take you when we want to be alone. Truly be alone. But if…” he hesitates, lacing your hand with his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “If you’re going to be carrying my baby, I want to keep you safe. I promised you that the day I met you- I’d never let anything happen to you. It’s been risky enough to have you in the city all this time as it is.”

“So...what exactly are you suggesting, love?” You run your thumb lovingly over his knuckles.

“I’m proposing if you do get pregnant, we move you out here. Permanently. Or at least somewhat long term.”

“Wait…” you pull away, eyes clouding as you do. “Alone? Without you?”

“No. No. I didn’t word that right. I’d be here as much as i can, and I’d send the security detail to stay out here whenever I have to leave so—“

“Namjoon, I don’t want to be all the way out here by myself. Surely, that’s not necessary.”

He frowns as he tries to gather his thoughts. “This is coming out wrong...You wouldn’t be fully by yourself. I’d be here as much as I can. I just... want you protected. Safe. And out of the city while you're carrying something so precious.” The backs of his knuckles graze your stomach. 

“But I don’t understand. Why—“

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” His voice has turned solemn, his eyes an odd shade of vulnerability when they meet yours. 

“Joon, nobody’s gonna do anything. You’ve made that city so secure-nobody could hurt me even if they tried.”

Something stormy and troubled clouds his eyes.It makes you wonder if there are things he hasn’t told you. Things he’s kept to himself to ensure that your life is as peaceful as possible. You wonder what kind of darkness he’s had to swallow for your sake. 

“But they have tried.”

It's news to you. 

“What do you mean… when?” 

“It’s happened a few times. Nothing ever got far enough to warrant bringing it up.”

“What on earth? Joon, why in the world wouldn’t you tell me that?” 

He sighs once, from some deep place in his bones. “Because i never wanted to have to see the look in your eyes that I do right now.”

Suddenly, any anger you held vanishes all at once. 

“Baby, why are you carrying something like that all by yourself?”

“So you don’t have to. I promised I’d keep you safe, and I meant it. That includes taking care of your peace of mind. Something you won’t have if you knew how many times someone’s shot off at the mouth about coming for you because they’re irate at me or how many times someone has done more than just talked and actually tried.”

It’s a sobering thought.

“Is that… is that the real reason why you never pushed for an heir?” For reasons you can’t explain, the idea makes you want to cry. Namjoon sees the shift immediately, his fingers ready to brush your tears before they even fall.

“Shhh, hey. No. I mean, it’s part of it. You know all I’ve ever wanted was to be a parent. When I married you, please know the idea of you being the mother of my children sent me over the moon, but I know this world. How people take what they want. Do what they want. I wanted better for you.” He runs his fingers soft over your cheek like you’re some spun glass artifact he needs to protect. 

“I wanted to be better for you than the men in this world were going to give you. I promised myself that I was never going to demand anything from you. That’s why I didn’t push for an heir. I meant it when I said we go at your pace. Always.”

Sniffling, you look up at him through wet lashes. 

“Joon, protecting me doesn’t mean you hide the truth from me.”

“Not even if it would hurt you? Scare you?”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to marry you. It’s so kind of you to try to take these burdens so I don’t have to, but then who carries them for you? That’s my job. You have to let me do it.”

Closing his eyes, he exhales long and slow through his nose. 

“You really mean it, don’t you? You really want to know.”

“Yes,” you nod, caressing his face. He looks troubled. You’d give anything to help take some of his cares away.

“Then you should know why we came to the villa this weekend.”

“So it wasn’t just for a getaway?” You brace yourself for whatever it is you’re about to hear.

“It is, and it isn’t. I guess I have to go back a bit for this to make any sense, but my family isn’t from here. You know that. Our roots don’t go back as many generations as yours do, so when the new kid on the block started gaining power in this city faster than anyone had seen before, there were a lot of families that weren’t happy about it.

Especially not when the daughter of one of the oldest families in the city became my bride. There had already been a lot of grumbling against me before I made such a powerful ally, and there were certainly plenty after. Anything we’d stumbled on over the last few months had been mostly hearsay, but…”

“What is it, Joon?” You're worried now. You can hear the way his voice sounds choked.

“There was a deal that went wrong a few weeks back. Just a skirmish with some lower level captains that got out of control, but I thought I’d put a pin in it. Turns out the other family involved hadn’t let it go like I thought …” he stops, eyes going cold as color drains from his face.

“Baby, it’s okay. You can tell me,” you reassure. 

Closing his eyes, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath, his voice lower, raspier when he continues. “There was a hit put out on you this past week.

You’re shocked. “There— what?”

”It’s okay now. Jungkook caught intel on it soon enough that he crushed it before the people responsible could hurt you, but I've never seen anyone get this close. Y/n, I couldn't breathe when he told me. When I found out, I nearly lost my mind. I called you immediately to make sure you were safe— I couldn’t breathe til I heard your voice.”

You had no idea he’d been through that. You can’t imagine what you would have done if the roles were reversed, if you’d been seconds away from losing him. It would’ve shattered you. You’re not sure how he’s still standing.

“Once I knew you were okay, the first thing I could think was that I needed to get you out of town as fast as I possibly could. Something’s building in that city, y/n. The lower families are tired of their rank. They’re itching to get back any sort of power they can- it’s making them reckless. There’s rumors of a war building…I’d dismissed it so far. Didn’t think they were a real threat until they had the nerve to try something like this. We squashed it, but this was too close, and I’m not willing to risk you.”

Realization dawns across your face. “That’s why we left with less than an hour's notice. I’d thought you were just being romantic about a weekend getaway but ...That’s why we came to this safe house and not the one on the edge of town, isn’t it?”

His eyes fall away as he nods, “That’s why our security detail was thicker than usual.”

“But I've hardly seen anyone.”

“That’s on purpose. I didn’t want to scare you.  Didn't want to draw attention to a whole parade leaving town so I had them follow us at a distance. They’re stationed all around the property and schooled to stay out of sight.”

“What about the boys? Was it safe to have them here this weekend with their wives? Their girlfriends? Didn’t we put them in danger?” Your rounded eyes betray the sudden guilt you feel for what you thought had been such a beautiful night.

“Shh, no. Hey, they’re fine. I had them all moved out to safe houses not too far from here with a security detail on them too. They’re just a few miles from here. That’s why I didn’t feel bad about them driving out last night- they didn’t have to go all the way back to the city, just to our guest houses and then their safe houses in the morning….I’m having them all lie low for a little while. Figured they’d want their girlfriends and wives as close to their side as I want mine. Thought having them over was a good distraction for a night.”

You had no idea. Something cold runs up your spine at the thought that this weekend, this beautifully perfect day could’ve been so different. Or perhaps not even happened at all. 

Slipping your dress back into place, you cover yourself. It feels wrong to have this conversation half naked. Namjoon seems to sense it too as he pulls his pants back on. He offers to help ease you down from the counter, picking you up and placing you gently on the whitewashed floorboards, making sure you’re steady before he lets you go. 

Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh at how he has to make you sure you’re stable enough not to keel over where you stand after blessing you with an orgasm so bright it makes your soul radiate around your body. Now though, you find your hand cradling your lower belly, feeling entirely naive for thinking now was the time to bless the world with Namjoon’s child. You should say something, but the words get stuck in your throat…. you feel like a fool.

“I’m gonna make us some coffee, yeah? You want a cup?” Namjoon offers softly. When you look up, he looks so worn out all of a sudden. Like he’s somehow aged years during the course of this conversation. Like he really does need a cup of coffee, if not something stronger.

“Sure, baby. I’ll take one.”

Nodding, he presses a kiss to your forehead before he plugs in the black gooseneck kettle you’d gotten him for his birthday. The gift had been simple, thoughtful, and if he was honest, it was the best present anyone had ever given him.

He practically survives on black coffee most days. At the beginning of your marriage, he was always long gone before you rose most mornings, so in an attempt to slow him down and have more time with him, you’d gotten him a pour over set and a gooseneck kettle to replace his old instant apparatus.

He wondered if you were aware of all the additional gifts it had given him along the way....It required time to steep and brew. Time he’d never given himself before he met you. The methodology of it soothed him, provided his mornings with a small structure and routine he’d never had in a lifestyle marked by so much chaos. 

Taking the time to make his absolutely necessary coffee this way helped wake him up gently, slowed him down enough for you to have the time to slip out of bed and catch him before he was gone, to hold him while he prepared it. To remind him of the precious reason he needed to be careful while he was out that day. 

As the water boils, he turns his back to you. He feels himself melt when your arms wind around him. Softly, you press a kiss between his shoulder blades before your touch slips away as quietly as it appeared. The subtle sounds of your footsteps fading as you walk away and the gentle buzzing of the kettle are all that fill the room in the silence between you.

Namjoon sighs as he turns, his arms crossed as he leans against the counter to watch you.  Without a word, you silently procure a hearty loaf of fresh,crusty bread from the pantry and begin to slice it for breakfast. As your head tips down in concentration, he watches your untamed hair fall in your eyes. It’s beautiful the way it frames your face. It makes something squeeze in the center of his chest.

Crossing the room, he comes to stand beside you, lightly brushing your hair back into place for you with his hand. You still in your task, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes, baby?” 

“If it’s this dangerous…” your voice is barely above a whisper, “this unsafe… does that mean we shouldn’t have a baby?” When you look up at him, your eyes are starlit with tears. Your hands are trembling, and he hates to see you so sad.

“No. You’re ready, and I want a family,”’he soothes.

“But… but if there’s this much risk, how can our child ever have a normal life? Won’t we always be afraid for them all the time? Is that selfish? To make a life that has to live in this world just because we want them to?”

He brushes his fingers over the cascade of teardrops starting to fall from your eyes. “All parents have to worry about that, y/n. This world is still a scary place even outside my line of work.”

“I know. But they don’t have to worry about a hit on their child’s life or a ransom or generation’s old grudges putting their child at risk....They just have to worry about whether or not a child in their daughter’s class has a peanut allergy because little ashley will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches right now and nothing else.”

You’re talking with your hands as Namjoon gives you a smile that’s equally warm and sad. “That’s a really specific scenario.”

“I went through a phase in first grade, okay?”

He finds your eyes until you laugh before pulling you in tight against his chest. “First of all, that’s adorable. We’ll address that again later because little y/n sounds incredibly cute. And secondly,” he sighs,” you grew up in this world- the same as me- and we both survived. Having a child is expected of us, yes, but if that’s not what you want... it doesn’t have to happen. But, if we both want one… if being a mom will make you happy, then I’m going to find a way to give you that.” There’s a heaviness about him right now. An authority resigned to accept whatever fate weighs on your heart the most as he watches your eyes fill with questions.

“But won’t we be afraid for them all the time? I feel so naive for only thinking of how much I’d like to meet them, how much I’d love them just because they’re a part of you, when I should have known better.”

“That’s not naive. That’s beautiful. No matter what they’re like, we’ll love them. Because they’re ours.”

“What if they don’t want any part of this world? They should have a choice… but can I even give them one or will their only option be serving as the new head of the Kim family one day?” Your face looks stricken. “Did you get to choose?” Your watery eyes flit up to his. 

He swallows, face stony as you survey him. “I did what I had to do so our life can look however we want it to,” he’s sighing again, worn out out by memories you may never see. “Look, you’re my wife, and I’m your husband. As far as I’m concerned, we’re the ones get to decide what’s right for us, y/n. I’ve told you that, and I meant it- that extends to our children too. Their lives don’t have to look like what anyone else wants but them. I don’t care if they want to be painters or accountants or captains in the family. They get to shape the life they want. That’s what I’ve worked so hard for.”

You feel your eyes flutter shut in relief on their own accord. Of course he’s already thought this through to this degree. When has your Namjoon ever done anything less? It soothes your mind to know he’s taken the time to lay the groundwork so you don’t have to. Still though, questions you’re ashamed didn't occur to you sooner rattle through your head and spill from your mouth.

“Do they have to spend their life in boarding school like I did? Are our only options to send them away or be scared for them every day?

“Y/n, no. We’ll find what works for our family. I want that with you- figuring that out and watching them grow. I’ll keep you both safe. However I have to. I promise you.” His thumb brushes over your ring as he holds your hand against his chest. “I promised you.”

And just like that, it hits you all over again- how much you love this man. How deeply you trust him with every fiber of your being. How you couldn’t have found a better man to love you if you’d tried. You two are it for each other- you’ve known it since the day you met him on the steps.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, kissing your knuckles,”... but, y/n?”

Your eyes flit up to meet his. “Yes, love ?”

“I meant what I said. If this is all too much, if this scares you, we can wait.” His brown eyes are so deep and sincere. You know every part of him means it, and it’s precisely because of that, that you say the words you do.

“No. I want this. All of this. With you. We’ll figure this out,” you nod, gently pulling the back of his neck down so your foreheads are touching. “I want to have a baby with you. I’m all in, if you are.”

You can feel the rush of tension that leaves his body. He wraps you in his arms, so close and secure, and something innocent comes from him that you don’t think you’ve ever heard.

“God, you know I am. Thank you.”

His voice is as robust and full as always, but his eyes… there’s something so young and soft and terrified in them. Like the weight of all he’s been carrying alone has crashed down on him all at once. “I’m so excited to have a baby with you if it happens. And it’s okay if it doesn’t. But I can’t wait to try.”

You’re nodding and crying, and you realize something that perhaps has never dawned on you before. This is the first time you’ve seen him truly this vulnerable. He’s always so strong, so composed. Too busy holding up an entire empire and caring for you to let his walls fully fall. 

But as he buries his face in your neck, you suddenly feel dampness pooling against your skin and realize he’s crying. You wonder how you got here on a morning that had been so serene and full of bliss. Bliss you now realize has come at a price.

“I was so scared I'd lost you the day we came here.” Slipping your hand into his hair, the other soothes his back as he clings to you tighter. “I'm so glad you’re okay. You’re so smart. I know you are. You don’t make reckless mistakes when you’re out— you take good care of yourself— but I was so afraid. My heart dropped when Jungkook told me what he’d heard. He couldn’t calm me down until I heard your voice on the phone.”

Stroking his hair, you recall the phone call just a few days ago. How strangled and out of breath he’d sounded. How you’d asked if he was okay, and he’d simply said he was now.

“It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay.” 

He takes a moment to collect himself, pressing you so close you may fuse together. It’s unguarded, and precious. Something you know both of you treasure as he nuzzles into your skin in that space along your neck where his face perfectly fits.

It’s as simple as that. You both stay like this for as long as you can, secure in his embrace, your breathing settling until it’s nearly in sync. It’s peaceful for you, cathartic for him. It’s a moment framed by a different kind of intimacy than the one you both shared in this very room less than an hour ago. 

He shows no sign of letting you go until the kettle begins to howl for him from across the room. When he does, his fingers trace the silk fabric along your waist as his lips kiss your forehead. He takes one more heavy breath before he squeezes you in release to tend to the coffee.

“Cream and sugar?” He asks, his voice thicker than usual.

“Always,” you answer.

And so the morning resets itself. 

The day shifts into afternoon. The sun drifting higher, brighter, casting the shadows and ridges of Namjoon’s sculpted body in almost Grecian relief as he carefully pours the water for both of you over the coffee grounds. You finish slicing the crackling bread loaf and bring it to the table to place it beside the remnants of Seokjin’s charcuterie board. 

It’s only when you catch sight of your lacy table cloth that you remember the accident that started the whole morning to begin with. You’d both gotten so preoccupied with each other that you never made it any further than cleaning his shirt and not the rest of the disaster.

Smiling to yourself, you gently slide the cloth off the table and fill the sink with cold water to soak it. Looking over at your husband, you realize wine stains still swirl over the front of Namjoon’s linen pants. There’s a very good chance those are fully set now, but just in case, you might as well try to fix them. 

So, gently, you hook a finger into his waistband and tug. “Let me have these.”

“Round two all ready? Greedy girl.” He winks, his voice soft as follows the drip of his Colombian roast.

“No, smart girl. We did a terrible job of getting you cleaned up.” You pop the p at the end of the word as you snap the elastic on his pants.

Looking a bit lost, Namjoon glances down to see the lovely pastel splashes of rosé running clean down the front of his pants. He’d been too busy to notice once you’d gotten him out of them. Blushing for no reason other than the embarrassment of you having to clean up his foibles, Namjoon dips down to remove the trousers, leaving himself looking statuesque and unreasonably gorgeous in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs in the afternoon light as he tends to the coffee.

You feel terribly immature over how quickly affected you are by the sight of him in his current predicament and carefully take the pants from him, only to turn abruptly in search of some fresh air and relief. Namjoon catches your equally flustered state, smiling to himself, but doesn’t acknowledge it out loud. This spell of quiet that’s settled over the room is too peaceful to break.

Once the coffee’s done, he brings both your cups to the broad heirloom table, and you enjoy breakfast… or, he supposes, brunch at this point...together in the stillness. Every bite you take is piled high with prosciutto and fig while Namjoon drizzles honey on his slices of bread. 

It’s peaceful, idyllic. Tranquil enough to forget the world that awaits him back in the city.

It’s funny, the duality of his life. How easy it becomes in moments like these to lean into the simplicity of breakfast with his lover and ignore the undulating danger and uncertainty awaiting him in the rest of his world. It makes him realize how much he’s come to covet exchanges like this when he gets to feel like you’re just two people in love and nothing else. 

As his eyes trace over you, he promises himself to do everything in his power to make sure your life with him is hallmarked by sweet pockets like these. As many of them as he can give you. 

At some point Namjoon pushes up to get the carafe of orange juice from the fridge, and after assigning your more capable hands the job of opening the champagne, you both polish off your brunch with the tinkling clink of your toasting mimosa glasses. 

Once your bellies are full and satiated, Namjoon looks up at you. His elbows are propped up on the table, chin contentedly resting in his hands. There’s a question hidden in the corner of his lips as his eyes glisten with mischief.

“So… what else do you have in mind for your agenda today, my bride?” He reaches across the table to grab your hand, kissing the back of your palm as you giggle and roll your eyes.

“Well if you must know... I'm thinking I might give my sister a call. See if she’d be willing to come pay me visit.” You offer, pushing one of the last grapes around the corner of the board, avoiding the way Namjoon’s eyes shine. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe she could come stay in one of the guest houses. Potentially. Once I move out here. Whenever that may be.” 

“So my baby won’t be alone when I’m gone?” His dimples are popping in his cheeks as his smile spreads wide. It’s a brilliant idea to bring her out here with you until Namjoon can finesse a way to be by your side 24/7. He wonders why he didn’t think of it sooner. Probably because you’re as smart as you are beautiful. 

“Neither of your babies.” You crinkle your nose as you smile back at him. 

“I like the sound of that,” he’s beaming back at you, happy and light. His eyes are misty with emotion he can’t hide, and it only makes you love him more.

“Me too.”

“So, how would you feel about getting to work as soon as possible then?” His eyebrows bounce salaciously your way, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Is that what you want?” 

“If it’s what you want. Always.” Namjoon licks his lips and a crackle of electricity shoots up your spine. The parallels to how this morning started are not lost on you. It makes something in you thrill with excitement.

“Well, I would love to take a bath. Our activity this morning was excellent, but I must say you left a bit of a sticky mess in your wake.” 

“Sorry,” Namjoon ducks his head bashfully.

“So I’m going to break in that beautiful clawfoot tub and fill it to the brim with matcha bubble bath.”

“Mmm. With the orange blossom bath salts too?”

“Always,” you wink as Namjoon bites his lip.

“God, you always smell so good when you use that. It makes your skin so soft.” The thought of your skin fragrant and bare has his blood stirring again as his eyes rake over you.

“Well you are welcome to keep me company and read to me while I soak,” you offer nonchalantly as you walk away. You can feel his eyes on your hips as you round the corner, quickly followed by the sound of his bare feet against the floorboards.

“Or I could join you in the water.”

When he responds, his voice is closer than you expected it to be. He’s caught up to you so quickly with those long legs of his.

“Or you could finish the chapter of the book you were reading to me on the way up. You left me on such a cliffhanger when your hands got distracted on the drive. I’m dying to know what happens next.”

Biting his lip, that wicked gleam is back in his eyes at the memory of the drive up and the things the two of you got up to in the privacy of the tinted, shielded back seat.

“Fair enough, but I get to join after.” His hand is forceful where it slips across your waist. You tumble into him, wanting nothing more than to let him win and start this game all over again, but you had a feeling you were winning this round, and you like to win.

“I can promise you no such thing. We’ll just have to see how the day goes,” you shrug, dismissing him completely to climb the stairs.

As much as he enjoys the view, Namjoon loves the play for dominance more: it’s cute on you. Too bad he’s still got the upper hand. He catches you on the stairwell, turning you around to face him. His hand ghosts down the front of your silk draped stomach directly to the dip between your legs.

 He places enough pressure to catch your sensitivity there, smiling something wicked at the sound of your sharp inhale. He already knows how delicate you are after you’ve already finished once until he warms your body up again. The prospect of starting this dance all over again has him stiffening with delight against your leg when he feels the familiar slip of your essence help the fabric glide beneath his touch.

“Oh baby girl, you have no idea how well this day is gonna go.” His voice has dipped to an octave reserved only for the devil as he smiles at you and lifts you off the stairs and into his arms.

You squeal at the suddenness of it, wrapping your arms securely around his neck so you don’t fall. He just chuckles, something throaty and dark, as he carries you up the stairs and down the hall to the sunlit bathroom. 

Setting you on the counter, he turns to start the bath- scooping in bath salts, pouring your bubbles, raising the blinds so the room is flooded with light. He doesn’t want to miss a single look on your beautiful face when he has his way with you for a second time today.

Not once has it occurred to you to move from the spot where he put you. Instead, you sit perfectly still on the bathroom counter, feeling your nails dig into your palms, your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you watch him. Your pulse is already thrumming with anticipation all over again. 

When he turns back to you, you can see clear evidence of his arousal reshaping itself beneath his black briefs, and suddenly, despite your meal, there’s something else entirely that you want in your mouth. He catches the hungry way your eyes follow him as he walks back to you.

“Can I help you, baby?” His laugh is warm, even if his eyes are sinister. It’s all you can do just to nod your head and slip your fingers forward to tug at his waistband. When it begins to fall, you slip down to the floor, catching him off guard entirely. Not in a million years did Namjoon didn't plan on this course of events, but he certainly isn't unhappy about it. 

Namjoon leans back against the counter in the spot you’d just been sitting in as your hands grasp onto the muscular ridges of his toned legs. You set to work kissing his golden skin on his thighs slowly, indulgently, enjoying yourself as you go. 

You’ve always been weak in the knees for his absurdly gorgeous legs. They’ve only gotten more toned in the last year just like the rest of him, and between his dimples, his arms, his chest, and his legs, it’s hard to know where to begin. Or it would be if there wasn’t something hard and beautiful staring you in the face.

Namjoon is in heaven watching this unfold from above. When you slip him into your mouth, he feels all his rational thought go dark. He’s helpless to do anything but cave in. God, the two of you are like rabbits, but honestly, how can you not be when you make him feel like this? He begins to lose himself in the soft rhythm you create, something lazy and hypnotic, that makes him feel weightless.

He can barely hold himself, but every second is worth it. All he can do is luxuriate in the way you take your time as you bless him. At least, that’s how he always thinks of it because it’s truly nothing short of divine. 

He can’t tell if it’s been a few minutes or an eternity when all of a sudden, you’re abruptly letting him slip from your mouth with a pop and a sultry smile. The cool air rushing against him nearly startles him in the wake of the warmth he’d been cocooned in while your tongue did its incredible work. Because just as quickly as you started, you’re gone. 

He realizes then that the floor is wet. Apparently, You’d both gotten so lost in each other that the water in the tub had spilled over its edges and he hadn’t even noticed. Also, at some point during all this, you must have slipped out of your dress, because you’re lowering yourself into the water now as bare as you were on your wedding night.

Namjoon swallows. His body is ramping with endorphins, and he’s so worked up it nearly hurts. As he makes his way to the tub, you stop him with a dainty hand against his lower stomach.

“Ah, ah. I asked you to read to me.” 

Your eyes are coquettishly round as you bat them up at him. He’s tempted to scoff.

“Are you serious right now? Aren’t we in the middle of something?” His face is serious, focused as he eyes your breasts floating in the water amidst the matcha- scented bubbles.

You push back against his stomach again. “Yes, we were… in the middle of that last chapter. Book. Please.”

There it is again. The “please” he’s always been so enamored by. The “please” that’s usually the product of your need for him. The one he’s so infatuated with that he’d do anything to satisfy it. The one that, up until now, he’d thought you were unaware of, yet here you are using it against him.

That’s when he knows he’s trained you too well. There’s pride sparkling in your eyes as you look up at him, and he can’t believe it. Running a hand down his face, he shakes his head at you. What has he gotten himself into with you?

“ If that’s the way you want to play it, fine,” he squints at you with playful derision. “But I’m reading to you in the tub with you when I come back.”

“Oh please do,” you coo, batting your lashes at him.

Oh, you’re good. 

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at himself as he walks to the bedroom to collect the book. When he met you a year ago- the blushing, soft spoken girl who was too nervous to meet his eyes- he definitely never would have thought that a year later you’d be sending him down the hallway fully naked and half hard to fetch your literature for you while you float in a bath. He wonders when he got so wrapped around your finger like this, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t mind.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

 Being with you is the best his life has ever been. He’ll forever be grateful, that against all odds, you agreed to marry a man who was nearly a perfect stranger and create a life with him.

As he walks back to the bathroom, Namjoon catches a glimpse of your rosy smile flashing his way, peeking at him beyond the wall of bubbles. It fills his chest with something buoyant and light as he makes his way back to you.

There’s absolutely nowhere he’d rather be.

As he sinks down in the water behind you, more displaces, splashing out across the white wood beams and dousing your hair in the process. He apologizes profusely but instead of getting mad, you simply slip the rest of the way under the water to finish the job. When you resurface, you’re laughing so happily that your smile is the brightest thing in the room, putting even the afternoon sunlight to shame.

He pulls you to him, affection for you glowing warmly in his chest as you settle between his legs and look up at him. He kisses your forehead, his heart filled with contentment, before reaching forward to dry his hands on the closest available towel and thumbing through the book until he finds the page he marked.

The two of you stay that way until the chapter is finished and the book is closed. Until the bubbles all dissolve and the water’s gone cold. Even then, once the water is drained, you still stay wrapped in a tangle of Namjoon’s long limbs as you twist to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

Eventually he straightens out his legs to allow you to climb into his lap so he can find his way home again and slip inside you. Your bodies are swathed in the golden light illuminating the room as the two of you go effortlessly slow and unhurried, taking your time . 

Namjoon sinks into you, lost in the beauty of you and your connection. 

This time, your session together is marked in emotion and security. 

He knows how much you want to start a family with him, and you know how special it was for him to let his walls down, to let you know how scared he was to lose you. Both of you are in awe of not only how attracted you are to each other, but also of the caliber of human you’re currently sharing your bodies with, of how transcendent love making can feel when your hearts and hopes are as interwoven in the act as they now are with all your cards on the table.

When Namjoon finishes this time, it’s in sync with you. It’s the first time that happened for the two of you in tandem. As your eyes search his, you're both aware that this shared state of bliss is nothing short of miraculous. As story-worthy as this act has always been between the two of, this time feels different. Markedly so.

Perhaps, it’s because you’ve both dropped your guards enough to fully let the other in, in a way you hadn’t uncovered before. If the crashing of his heartbeat has anything to say about it, Namjoon would probably guess that you've both sunken so deep into each other that it was impossible for the crescendo of your orgasms  not  to crest all at once for the both of you.

Once you’ve gathered yourself enough to speak, you watch Namjoon with dazed eyes, in awe that someone as incredible as him even exists, let alone that you get to call him yours. As he slips out of you, the warmth of his seed flows out between your thighs, and some ridiculous part of you can’t help but smile.

Namjoon catches it too, and leans forward to kiss you. 

“You’re gonna be a great mom, you know that?”

Your eyes flash to meet his. Your body is spent, your emotions are big and at this point, your heart feels so filled to the brim with affection for him that you fear it won’t fit in your body anymore.

“They’re gonna be the luckiest kids in the world to have you for a dad,” you whisper with shining eyes as you touch his chest.

He dips his head, smiling so exorbitantly wide that it consumes his whole face, and all you can think is that you can’t wait to see that dimpled grin shining back at you from the face of a little boy or little girl down the road.

“By the way,” you begin as his gaze perks back up to meet yours. “You should know that we’ve tallied the votes for husband of the year.”

“Oh really?” His brows lift attentively. “Should I pack it up? Is it time to let the dream go? Surely it’s not going to a rookie this year.”

“You’d be surprised,” you tip your head. Taking his hands you place them so they’re cradling your chest. “On behalf of the board and the esteemed academy, it is my honor to present the award of husband of the year to you, Kim Namjoon.”

As he throws his head back, he bursts into a bright fit of laughter and mock cheering like you’re both surrounded by a make believe crowd. 

“Oh my goodness,” he squeezes your breasts in his palm like the globes are irreplaceable awards. “I would just like to thank all the people around the world who supported me and believed me, who shined the light of their support on me even on days when this seemed bleak. We couldn’t have made it here without you guys. This award belongs to all of you.”

He waves to the imaginary audience he’s created before pressing your breasts together and happily burying his smiling face between them. He mumbles something you can’t understand that gets lost in the downy softness of your chest as you laugh at him.

“What are you even saying down there?”

“I’m thanking the people who got me here.” He eyes you soberly like that should be obvious before breaking character and cackling at how ridiculous this is. “I can’t believe we really kept this joke going all day.”

“I can’t believe I got in the tub to clean up the mess you left earlier only to now, once again, be sticky with dried up mess.” You look ruefully between your legs.

“Hey, hey, that mess may very well become your child.” He tuts as you grin and narrow your eyes at him. 

“I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“Semantics,” he shrugs, kissing your nose. You can’t help your eye roll that follows. “Hey,” he breathes, eyes suddenly serious.

“Yes, love?” 

“Please know, whatever happens, I’ll always love you, and I’ll always take care of you. Both of you, if we’re so lucky.” The tips of his fingers rest against your lower belly, and yep. You were right. Your heart bursts clean out of your chest. You can feel the way your eyes glisten, happiness spilling from them as you get lost in Namjoon’s smile.

“I know you will, Joon. I know you will.”

-fin.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Coughing in the Bathroom (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 Coughing in the Bathroom

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: Slight blood, slight language, slight alcohol, emotional cheating]

Part 2

        In the world you live in, there’s a terrible thing called ‘Hanahaki Disease,’ and while it is ultimately rare, it is still feared widely throughout the globe. Love is an emotional virtually everyone feels, and it is through that monetary softness that the disease may take root. It affects those whose love is unrequited. 

        Five years ago, you never thought you would be under its spell. 

        The first time you met Eyeless Jack was a mess of combined hot headedness and a ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ type of deal. He was so brash and such a know it all! How could you NOT butt heads with him? The two of you spawned a little rivalry, and that rivalry grew to love. 

        How could you not fall in love with him? He’d been everything you’d ever wanted, and in your line of work, that’s hard to find. You’re what’s known as an ‘independent,’ someone who does not work directly under the Slender Man, but often crosses paths with him due to common goals and your abilities. While there is nothing inherently supernatural or otherworldly about you, you do have the gift of clairvoyance. Your clairvoyance isn’t super special, as you’re only prone to glimpses of the future based on current actions and what might (you are the world’s greatest predictor). 

        Jack IS supernatural. He’s not human, calls himself ‘a demon of some sorts.

         The Slender Man saw potential in the two of you from your rivalry and decided to put the two of you together. It was that proximity that led him to falling helplessly, hopelessly, and ardently in love with you. 

        You never saw that coming. 

        Jack had told you he loved you when the two of you had just finished some of the grossest work you’ve done to date. He didn’t want to go back to the safe house the two of you had been holed up in with various other independents and instead urged you to hang out on the roof with him. 

        “Why are you rummaging through their fridge?” You asked, hands resting on your hips with a smile on your lips. 

        “Beer?” He finally asked as he poked his head out from the door. 

        You suppressed a chuckle and threw caution for the night to the wind. “Yeah, sounds good.” 

        With that, Jack tossed you a bottle, before snatching one for himself. Normally, he doesn’t drink, but he felt as if he needed the liquid courage to face you. He felt like he was being obvious with his intentions, but you’d managed to miss every gesture and hint he threw up to this point. If you’re anything like he is, you’re dense. 

        The two of you walked upwards and opened the door to the roof and were greeted by the lights of the city. The two of you don’t spend much time in people cluttered areas, but when you do, you always spend a moment together. He took a seat next to you on one of the lawn chairs hanging around and cracked the drink open, practically gulping it down. 

        “Are you thirsty?” You chuckled before opening your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you down one like that before,” you noted before taking a much smaller sip yourself. 

        Jack shifted uncomfortably for a moment as he took the bottle from his lips. It’s not that he was uncomfortable with you, but he was uncomfortable with the possibility that if you didn’t feel the same way, he could be subjected to the disease that’s claimed the lives of some damn good proxies and independents who fell in love with humans they never had a chance with. He hates getting sick, but he doesn’t think he can handle a broken heart and lungs full of flowers. 

        “No I-,” he took a deep breath. “Reader, I think you’re great.”

        You laughed slightly. “I think you’re great too.”

        Jack shook his head and took another swig before he attempted to speak again. “Not like that, it’s… I’m bad with words,” he sighed, feeling overwhelmed. The man isn’t used to speaking about his feelings. 

        You raised a brow. You know Jack, your Jack, to be someone concise, clear and to the point. He’s not one to fumble over his words. He’s not one to get bashful. You know where this is going, you can see it in your mind’s eye, but you won’t say it because a part of you enjoyed his aversion. “Right now you totally suck at speaking,” you lightly joked, which made him crack the tiniest smile. 

        That’s when he shot you a look. “You already know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?” He deadpanned, eyes narrowed at you slightly in accusation. 

        You let out a laugh and nodded, hand up in submission, “I did,” you giggled. 

        “I swear,” Jack breathed out as he tossed his bottle to the stone floor before he snatched yours and repeated the action. Before you could be surprised, he took you in his arms, his lips pressed to yours in a kiss full of everything he just couldn’t say. 

        Your arms wrapped around him, pleased that he had gotten to the point. 

        Jack has always made your heart flutter. He’s charming, but in his own way. Even though you have future vision to some varying degree, he has never failed to surprise you. For your first anniversary, he had brought you to the most beautiful flower field you’d ever seen. 

        “Have you always known that this was here?” You asked, eyes shining over the field full of lavender, sunflowers, poppies and other wildflowers. The scent rivaled that of the Slender Man’s garden. 

        “I spent the past year cultivating it,” he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, his head resting on top of yours. “Thought you’d appreciate it.” 

        “And I’m guessing you built the gazebo too?”

        “Had some help from the proxies. Hoodie is surprisingly good at craftsmanship,” he said with a small chuckle. Jack pressed kisses to the crown of your head. 

        You allow him to sway you as you listen to the birds sing from the surrounding trees. “Is this what you were up to?” You asked. 

        Jack breathed out and shrugged. “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he teased.

        You turned around in his grasp and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hands loosely connected ‘round the back of his neck. “You suck,” you teased, sticking your tongue out before you pressed a kiss to his nose. 

        Jack laughed, his smile rivaling the warmth of the sun. “Thought that was your job,” he mused, making you gasp and smack his chest. He laughed again before you dropped the feigned annoyed attitude and joined him. 

        The rest of your anniversary was held under that gazebo, talking well into the night. 

        When the nights were hard and you were bruised from jobs that were rough, he was always there to pick you back up. You’d come back to the Slender Man’s mansion in need of minor medical attention and had only come to his home because it was close to where you’d gotten banged up. 

        “You can just wait in the waiting room,” a female proxy said as her green eyes scanned you over with little concern. She gestured for you to head down the hall to your left. “You won’t miss it.” It seemed your injuries paled in comparison to the gunshots, knife wounds, musical instruments to the skull and other more hefty injuries. 

        You thanked her with a small smile and then walked down the hall. You’d never really spent extended time in the Slender Man’s mansion; you had no reason to. You didn’t serve directly under him. Still, it was nice to be in something regal looking rather than a dirty field house wondering if the first aid kid was even usable or not. 

        You took a seat once you finally reached the waiting room, displeased to see that there were so many other people - mostly proxies - waiting for service. Some of them looked on the verge of passing out due to blood loss. How had no one attended to them yet? You waited and waited, watching as the more in danger patients were taken in before you finally nodded off. Your dreams were for the most part, empty, but your vision showed you that Jack was here, working. That thought alone was enough to wake you back up. 

        When your eyes reopened, you were overcome with emotions to see Jack in the doorway waiting for you to get up and follow him to the back. You scrambled up from your seat, mindful of not outwardly showing you were in a relationship (the Slender Man detested such bonds) and tried your best to remain cool and level headed. 

        Jack, who wore his mask, showed no signs he had any business with you until he brought you into a secluded room where he could attend to your injuries. The moment the door closed, he took off his mask and looked you over, worry lined on his face. “What’s wrong? Is it serious? O should have seen you sooner. Are you hurt-”

        “Woah, woah,” you tiredly chuckled as you took his rapidly moving hands into yours. “It’s just minor bruises and cuts. Just wanna get them disinfected. I might’ve also sprained my wrist,” you sheepishly admitted. 

        Jack’s face fell again. “Jeeze, I should have seen you earlier,” he muttered to himself, moving around the room to get the supplies he needed. He slapped on his medical gloves again, and then got to work, leaving no part of you untouched. When it stung, he hushed you with words of love. “How did this happen?” He asked quietly. 

        “Alcoholic guy had way more power than I originally expected,” you winced. “I saw the possibility of him throwing me, but not him almost tearing off my wrist by slamming it in a door.” 

        “He what?” Jack growled. 

        “He’s dead now, don’t worry,” you said before you flashed Jack a reassuring look. 

        Jack seemed barely placated by your words and continued working. 

        When he finished working, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave you a look that told you he didn’t want you to leave. 

        “I have to,” you said as you allowed him to snake his arms around you. “I’ll be seeing you soon though, right?” 

        “I’m gonna be stuck in this area for a while,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “And you? You’re leaving Alabama right?” 

        You hesitantly nodded and sighed into him before you took in his scent that instantly calmed you. “Yeah, unfortunately. I have some work calling me out east,” you continued as he tensed in your arms. “Besides, I’m getting the vibe that if I stay much longer, the Slender Man is gonna be pissed at us.” 

        If Jack had eyes, he’d roll them. “I don’t care what he wants or likes,” he replied. That’s not entirely true, but love does weird things to people. “Stay a moment longer.” 

        You did. 

        There were times in your five year relationship that the two of you were split up for extended periods of time mostly on the whims and requests of the Slender Man. Those times you were apart were hard. And unfortunately, the two of you couldn’t actually text or call. Phones, electronics in general, were considered liabilities for people like you due to tracking and everything else. It just wasn’t safe, and BEN can only do so much. 

        Instead, the two of you would write letters to each other and enlist the help of Jeffery’s dog, Smile. Of course, the dog doesn’t always enjoy playing mail-dog, but he does enjoy the treats and favors he gets from the two of you. 

        The fifth year of your relationship with him had been a particularly long, hard separation due to distance. The two of you traded letters weekly via Smile. Everything from little anecdotes to how much you missed each other was shared between them until you got a letter that was calm before the storm. 

        ‘Dear Reader, how have you been? I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write back to you, but Slender has put me on a really weird task. It’s time consuming as all hell and I kinda hate it. I’ve been placed with the proxies for a little while, and they all say ‘hi’ and hope you’re well as much as I do. … I love you, J.’ Of course, interspersed in the letter was a whole treasure trove of everything Jack had been up to. 

        ‘Dear Jack, I’m glad to hear you’re doing alright. I’ve been lighting up the Midwest's farm fields - I don’t know why (I do have my inklings), but the proxies I’m currently with get it. They’re a nice bunch, but the one with a pig mask is kinda mean? Maybe you’ll have to fight him or something. There’s also talk of us converting some people to the proxy side, which is weird because it’s not my territory, but I’ll do what’s asked of me. What’s the task you’re currently up to? I love you, R.’ 

        It had been a few weeks since you got the next letter, and that letter was the beginning of your end. You just didn’t know it yet, and you purposely blinded your future vision to it. 

        ‘Dear Reader, I’m so sorry it took so long to get this letter back to you! I hope I didn’t worry you, but things have once again been really, really busy. In truth, I’m not supposed to tell you about this, but as long as he doesn’t find out… I can trust you with this, but you need to promise you won’t tell anyone else? I suppose it doesn’t matter because the whole of our society is going to be talking about it regardless. We’ve never seen something like this before. Zalgo (may his name burn for all eternity) had a kid, right? They call her Leia and she’s been causing a storm of issues for the tall man. We got a hold of her and she’s been under our watch since. She’s powerful, I’ll give her that. In a way, it’s admirable, but she’s also Slender’s biggest threat. The weirdest thing? She willingly gave herself up to us because she’s got daddy issues. Can you believe that? Zalgo’s favorite kid has daddy issues. She’s naturally murderous towards proxies so Masky, Toby, Hoodie and Kate have to be extra mindful of her. For the most part, she’s with me. We talk a lot, but I have no idea if I can trust her. She’s a great conversationalist though - nothing like her father. She doesn’t look anything like him either (you have seen his human form, right?) In fact, nothing about her screams spawn of Zalgo. She looks… normal, if that’s the right word. Other than that, her attitude reminds me of you. Funny, right? She asks about you every now and then, which is odd because I try not to mention you unless it’s with Hoodie. Hoodie says hi, by extension. She seems to not like you despite having never met you, which is also incredibly strange as she’s been nothing but kind to me and the proxies (despite her trying to kill them when her instincts take over). I digress, and I miss you. I love you, J.’ 

        You’d read that letter over so many times poking and prodding it. The energy didn’t feel right, and your mind had shown you glimpses of what was to come. But of course, still in love with him, you acted like nothing was wrong and the future you had seen wasn’t absolute. 

        The first time you met Leia was largely an accident. A short while after you’d gotten that letter from Jack, you ‘swung by’ the area he was in and decided on a surprise visit. You knew Masky well enough, and the proxy had never been angry with you for visiting prior to. What difference would this one have been?

        You knocked on the door in a way that only Masky would recognize to be greeted by the unmasked proxy. 

        “You’re here for him, aren’t you?” He asked, a tired smile coming onto his lips. 

        You nodded excitedly. “Where is he?” 

        “Back room, with uh-”

        “She already knows,” both Hoodie and Kate said in unison as they barely spared a glance over their shoulders from the terrible movie playing on Lifetime. 

        Masky shot a slight glare towards his teammates but relented and moved aside in the doorway. “Have fun,” he said as you stepped inside. “Don’t do anything stupid and if you do, do so quietly?” 

        You slapped Masky’s shoulder and walked down the hall. You took a brief moment to wave to Toby who was reading something in one of the rooms before you reached the end where you heard laughter. To be polite, you knocked on the door, and to your surprise, it was not Jack who answered the door. 

        There she stood with long silver hair and the most alluring blue eyes you’d ever seen, her skin as warm as the cinnamon that floated on top of hot chocolate in the winter. She gave you a sickly saccharine smile before she turned her head over her shoulder to address Jack, “Reader is here,” she giggled. 

        You bit back a grimace but smiled when Jack got up and gently moved Leia aside in the doorframe to greet you. 

        “It’s so good to see you,” he said as he took you into his arms before he crushed you in his grip. “How have you been?” He whispered in your ear before he peppered your face with kisses. 

        You wished you could have enjoyed the moment as you laughed in his arms, but your eyes fluttered open for just a moment to see Leia’s unamused expression. “I’m okay,” you replied in a tone lacking the enthusiasm Jack expected to hear. 

        “Are you sure?” He asked as he checked you over to ensure you physical self was safe. His hands cupped your cheeks as you were forced to look up at him. 

        “Of course,” you replied in an attempt to play it cool. 

        “If you say so,” he trailed off before taking your hand in his and leading you to sit next to him on the bed. 

        From there, the world’s most awkward conversation took place between Jack and Leia with you attempting to cut in every once and a while. You saw it in little glimpses. 

        Her eyes never left his sockets, and he allowed it. 

        When her hand touched his knee, he made no motion to move it. 

        When she laughed, he smiled in a way that only you had been used to seeing. 

        He talked with her with so many inside jokes, you felt as if you were just peeking in on someone else’s conversation, not one you were invited to.

        Gradually, through the hour, he’d moved closer to her than he had you. While his arm remained loosely wrapped around your waist, he’d leaned forward to hear her better. He watched her interaction first after he shared a story. His focus was on her. You’d left his field of vision. 

        A few weeks into your fifth year was all it took. 

        Things did not get any easier from there. Eventually, you were moved to helping the group in regards to Leia. According to Slender, it was to ‘protect her’ from her father and her now murderous siblings. That’s when the rift grew wider, and the roots took hold. 

        See, after that first in person interaction with Leia, you’d felt a scratchiness in your lungs. At first, you chalked it up to being under the weather, but after being moved to Masky’s group, you knew nothing would ever be the same. Your worst fear had come true, and all it took was a pair of blue eyes. 

        Physically, Jack was still yours. He’d hold you, kiss you and touch you like you were still his. He never physically left your side, nor did his flesh betray your relationship. No, it was something much deeper than that that brought about the sprouts that took hold in your lungs. 

        Emotionally, he’d left you the moment he laid sockets on her. Why did he give in so easily? Who knows - boredom? A premature seven year itch? You’re not sure. But you saw it - you saw his heart leave the space it once shared with you and take up residence with hers, and it was painful. So, so painful. 

        He looked at her like she owned the moon and commanded the tides. 

        He smiled at her in a way he used to smile with you. 

        He spoke to her in a tone so gentle, you assumed he’d only used it for you. 

        He spoke with you less frequently, and when he did, it was much shorter and to the point. Whenever you prodded him, he had chalked it up to being stressed and that of course, he still loved you. 

        “You’re just being paranoid.” 

        He told her things you’d never even scratched the surface of. 

        She viewed him as hers. 

        And he allowed it without leaving the safety net that was you. 

        Of course, this did not go unnoticed by the proxies. None of them wanted to get directly involved though. 

        Hoodie was amongst the most disturbed as he was usually the first to call out Jack’s bullshit and the first proxy to inquire about you and your wellbeing. Despite not spending any time with you, Hoodie viewed you as a good friend. 

        "You realize what you're doing isn't cool, right?" Hoodie said as he walked back to the temp house with Jack. 

        "I'm not doing anything," Jack replied. "This about Leia?"

        "No, it's about Pennywise we met last year - of course it's about Leia," Hoodie hissed as he rolled his eyes. "You're digging a hole you won't be able to get back out of. You know that, right?"

        Jack lightly shoved Hoodie's shoulder in response. He was uncomfortable with what Hoodie had insinuated, mostly because Hoodie's BS meter is never far off the mark and normally strikes true. But when he entered that house and saw Leia sitting at the table, he couldn't help but take his place at her side. 

        Perhaps Kate just believes in girl code, but as a fellow being under the Slender Man’s control, she’s got her eye out for you. She believed wholeheartedly that what Jack was doing was scummy, but of course, her focus is on you. It came in mugs of hot chocolate and late night living room talks. She cares, just quietly. 

        "Don't overwork yourself, okay?" She said softly as she draped a blanket around your shoulders. 

        You'd been nodding off much more in the living room than in the room you shared with Jack. "What?" You said sleepily. 

        Kate chuckled softly and let you rest your head on her lap. "Turn your brain off for a while with me and let's watch this gods awful movie." Anything to get your mind off of what's going on and if this movie does it for you, that's good enough for the moment. 

        "Yes, ma'am," you tiredly rib, a smile on your lips. 

        Toby is inexperienced when it comes to these things. He was the first person to find you hacking up forget-me-nots. That was a scary experience as he’s never seen the Hanahaki before. He’s too young and too inexperienced, where would he have seen it? 

        He can distinctly remember walking with you, patrolling the area for threats when you suddenly stopped. It’d been a few months of you in his group's care, and he’d seen you retreat into yourself the longer Jack spent time with Leia. He knew it, just didn’t know how to go about it. 

        “What’s w-w-wrong?” He asked. 

        You waved for him to go on. “I’m fine-” you tried to wheeze out before you began violently coughing. 

        Toby initially thought you were going through what Masky did. He’s handled that before and naively thought he could help you until he rushed to your side to see the small forming pile of blue flowers covered sparsely in drops of blood. “Oh n-n-no,” he whispered as he knelt at your side. He held you like you were glass. “R-Reader-”

        “I said I’m fine!” You tried to reason before coughing once more, this time more blood than cursed flower. 

        “Does t-t-this look f-f-fine to you?” He asked in stress and worry. “We n-need to t-t-tell M-Masky or J-Ja-”

        “No,” you coldly cut off as you wiped your mouth of the blood that dribbled down your chin. 

        Toby wanted to fight that notion badly, but instead focused on getting you back safe. “I-I’ll tell M-Masky we s-saw some n-n-not deer on t-the p-property,” he murmured as he carefully picked you back up. 

        You allowed him. 

        Masky knew the moment you walked back into the temp house with Toby holding you as inconspicuous as he could. It’s unfortunate, he thinks, because he knows what that’s like - to love someone and physically suffer because of it. 

        One day, he’d sent everyone out of the house except for you and urged you to sit down and have some apple cider with him to ‘celebrate’ his favorite season, fall. 

        “Let’s not beat around the bush,” he began. “You’ve got it.”

        You shifted uncomfortably and averted your gaze from his and chose to look into your apple cider than his eyes. “What?”

        “Reader,” Masky sighed as he sat up in his seat. “Please…”

        “It’s not that serious,” you attempted to retort. “It’s not… It’s not that bad.”

        “You’re delusional,” Masky said. “I saw the flowers in the trash bin.”

        You rolled your eyes but crossed your arms over your chest anyways in an attempt to soothe yourself. 

        “You know what happens, right?” He continued, leaning forward. “It either takes you or you get the surgery done.” 

        A pregnant pause passes before you reluctantly speak. 

        “Is… Is it really that bad?” 

        Masky nodded, “From experience? Yeah,” he mumbled. 

        You gave him a look of both sympathy and intrigue. 

        “The Operator forced me to get the surgery,” he admitted. 

        You look into his eyes and see for the first time that he’s empty. His dark brown eyes, that are full of amiability, protective nature, it’s all a front. He doesn’t actually feel that way - it is what is expected of him, but he is hollow. 

        “What happened?” You asked shyly, unsure if that’s too sensitive or not. 

        “I don’t quite remember as that’s an outcome of having the surgery,” Masky hummed. “But I remember that I loved him- I don’t feel it, obviously - but I remember that I loved him more than anything, would’ve moved mountains for him, and then he died,” he sounded vaguely perturbed by the words, but they did not reach his heart. “I think his name was Jay.” 

        You felt something pierce your heart, but it was interrupted by the flowers in your lungs blooming through your mouth. 

        Masky held you as you coughed petals and blood in the bathtub. 

        You promised Masky you were going to speak things over with Jack. You promised you were going to solve this. But when he spoke to you with his empty words coated in honey, the pain became too much to bear. It hurt. Seeing him hurt. Hearing him hurt.

        “Jack?” You ask quietly, slowly sitting up in the bed you shared with him, much too used to his arms not being slinked around your form by this point. 

        He roused slightly in the bed before he opened his eyes. “Yeah? What’s up?” He asks, a slight bite in his voice from being woken up. 

        “Can we talk about something?” 

        “Can’t it wait?” He sighs in a slightly exasperated tone. 

        You shake your head, and through the darkness, Jack’s form sloughs in defeat. 

        “What is it?” He asks. 

        “Are we okay?”

        “Of course we’re okay.”

        “Are you sure?”

        “Yes.”

        “Do you love me?” 

        “I love you more than anything,” he replies, hand gripping yours. 

        He feels like ice. 

        “And what about Leia?”

        “She’s a really good friend of mine.”

        He suddenly feels warm. 

        “I’m sorry for waking you.” 

        “It’s nothing, now go to sleep, baby. We can talk about this in the morning,” he says with a small yawn before falling back into the comfort of slumber. 

        Your other hand at this point, has wrapped over your mouth to stifle the sounds of silence and the threat of flowers crawling up from your esophagus. You suffer in silence for a few minutes until you’re certain he’s asleep, then quietly excuse yourself to the bathroom. 

        You begin to cough as softly as you can, not wanting to be a burden to anyone in the house as forget-me-nots begin to fill up the sink. Blood splatters on the porcelain as well as the mirror. Your eyes are full of tears. You feel cold, much too cold. 

        As you continue to empty your lungs in vain, the light flicks on. You’re in too much pain and absorbed in velvety petals to realize it at first. 

        “I thought I told you to handle this,” Masky’s exhausted voice chides gently, his eyes dipping to the mess you’ve left in the basin of the sink. 

        You grip the edge of the sink before hacking up the rest of what the garden in your lungs has to offer before slinking down to the tile floor, utterly exhausted. “Turn the light off,” you whisper. Your back rests against the tub. 

        Masky does as you ask, allowing the moonlight to overtake as the main source of light in the small bathroom. His shoulders sag slightly as he joins you on this floor, his arm around your shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he says softly, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. 

        You smile softly as the flowers continue to clog up your lungs. It looks like another fit is coming. 

        “Just let it pass,” he murmurs softly into your ear, his head resting loosely on top of yours as you attempt to suppress the flowers from reemerging. “It’ll be over soon.” 

        You move your eyes to look at his profile before you take in the scent of cigarettes. You continue to feel your lungs grow heavy with blossoms when you hear Leia’s door open. Her steps pad quietly along the wooden floor as she crosses the hall to the room you used to share with Jack. “You promise?” You manage to choke out before stifling your coughs as quietly as you can. Your eyelids are growing heavier. You can hear your heartbeat through your chest to the hallways of your ears. Leia has slipped into bed with Jack. You hear him shift. He’s holding her now. 

        “I promise,” he says gently, holding you just a little tighter. 

        You close your eyes and listen to Masky hum, hoping sleep washes over you soon.