#I should go back to therapy but having to start all over from the beginning sounds EXHAUSTING

[epcotwhore]

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[dawnwriterimagines]

The Guilty Plea

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x FEM!READER

Traitors Among Us (Part 1) and Innocents Among You (Part 2)

Verdict Due (Part 4) Clear Skies (Part 5)

Summary: As you're discharged from the infirmary, under watchful eye, you head to Laswell to talk on the rest of your now ruined military career. Of course, you're forced to confront your team as it happens, the last people on earth you'd like to see.

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---

Running your fingers along the raised, pink scar across you cheek, the feeling of it...it really looked terrible. A part of you thought it would disappear, hoped it would, but it didn't. It just became severely more noticeable. Looking at this, you knew you'd always have to think of it. You'd sport this reminder for the rest of your life.

Looking away from it, you find your own tired eyes in the mirror, you haven't been sleeping well. Or at all. You can't remember the last time you got 4 hours, let alone 8. Dark circles still surrounded them but at least the bruising and the swelling had gone down.

You couldn't recognize yourself. Not really.

This woman looked so exhausted, so frail and so goddamn angry. It was accurate, it was how you felt. All of it. So, you supposed that the mirror's reflection was the truth, this was you indeed.

"If you need another day or two, no one will ask questions."

You glance over towards your psychologist, your fucking therapist, a nice little 'gift' sent over by the bureau to check in on your mental state after your ordeal. Glaring at him through the reflection of your mirror, he sighs, putting down his pen that slaps against his notepad, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"I'm going to Laswell." Ignoring his statement, you speak. "I'm ready. I'll pack up. Get back to base. Vera had me discharged from the infirmary. I can start ov--"

"Vera?"

"My nurse. You met her," you continued, annoyance spiking at the interruption. Your wrist brace squeaking quietly under the pressure of your fist tightening beneath the table.

"Right..."

"Do you listen to a word I say outside of...my 'trauma'?" You wonder, bluntly.

Your psychologist blinks, surprised, before clearing his throat, appalled. "If you feel I can be more attentive to your state of well-being throughout our process, than by all means--"

"Oh, so 'no'?" you lean back into your seat, a strained laugh leaving you. His lips press together and you continue before he can find the words. "Because whenever I mention leaving this fucking team, you either adjust our schedule for another two weeks or suggest hypnotic therapy, as if I need anyone else digging around to fuck up my mental state."

"I never meant to imply--"

"Oh, you implied it," you interrupted, gritting your teeth. "I know what I want. And I want off Task Force 141."

He taps at the leather of his notebook. "Scars heal, just remember that, Ms. (L/n). The reminders of your experience shouldn't have to haunt you."

"It's not the scars, I've had my share way before this," you admitted, rising to your feet. You exhale deeply that tells to the effort of it, the steel gear hinges along your leg braces shift with your change of position. Still getting use to them. "It's the person."

"Has she changed, you think?" the psychologist begins to write, getting somewhere.

"She doesn't exist anymore."

Finally, placing the mirror down and onto the side table, you pushed off of the table, rolling your IV pole along with you. Passing the chair your psychologist sits on, he closes his notebook with a frustrated huff, looking over his shoulder. "Session over for you already, Ms. (L/n)?" he sighs. "We've still got the hour."

"I'm done," you take the knob in your hand. Turning.

In more ways than one.

"You understand that, informing your captain on your leave is required of you. Have you spoken to any of them, in the last few weeks?" he spoke up, quickly. "I'm sure giving them a space to open up, share from their view--"

"Why should I care--"

"--will give you better understanding, better clarity of the situation they were in--

Appalled. "What the fuck?" Jamming the door closed with a loud, shuttering thud, you whip around. "IT'S NOT ABOUT THEM!" you could just rip your hair out. "Who--who says that to someone?!"

Your psychologist sits there, eyes wide in confusion. "What--"

"Christ, can you hear me? Can you--can you see me? I've got metal plates in my spine, braces holding my knees in place and nerve damage that'll never heal! Who gives a fuck about them!" your skin feels red hot, your face twisted in rage. "I gave my life! My life to this! And then I'm tortured, I'm threatened, drugged and beaten by my own team, my f--my family for eight fucking years..."

You continue with a heavy chest. "And I'm supposed to invite them for dinner to talk and listen them bitch and moan about why they thought it was necessary to beat me to death for two weeks?! Fuck you!" you spat. "I don't owe them anything!"

"That's not what I was trying to say, Ms. (L/N). I apologize, I overstepped. Come sit down--"

"Of course you meant it," you interrupted, mock humor. "Don't be a pussy, own up to it. Revel in your truth. Be tter yet--" you snatch a journal from the cabinet. Tossing it his way. "Make a note of it."

Turning the knob, you leave the room with a slam of the metal door.

---

You were officially famous. On the base, you were now a legend.

A story that would be mentioned and told at lunch for months. Probably years.

First, you were a rat. Next, you were innocent. This was the most gossip any of those in service had ever seen in their years of service.

An interesting reminder to those in service that you weren't safe off duty either.

You learned a few days ago that there was an update put into the interrogational unit, something about how to properly go about dissecting evidence and being on the lookout for enemy spies in the militia.

You guessed you had been told about it in an effort to be appeased by the thought that the head of control paid attention to anything beyond their own noses for once. But, you had little to no faith in a system that's nearly killed you on and off the field by now, so it didn't matter.

You doubted the new rules would be followed though, there was a plethora of things they'd done to you in that cell that were both illegal and unsanctioned. Most of all, that were expected towards an enemy, a prisoner of war at best, and not a fellow marine.

You arrive at the housing quarters, swiping your key card, pulling the handle and entering the wing. Immediately, you're greeted by a dozen eyes, conversations stopping short and clothes ruffling to silence, suddenly whispers fill the space and eyes turn away.

"Oh, god, it's her..." says one man in the far corner.

"Shut the fuck up, man!" came a harsh whisper back.

"I didn't know it was that bad..."

All those eyes on you, makes you pause in your step, looking around at all of your fellow soldiers, the men and women you've served with for years. Many you recognized, ate with, fought beside that turned their backs to you now. Out of respect? Out of distaste, morale, nerves, pity, it all didn't matter. It all felt the same.

The wheels attached to your IV pole suddenly sounded much too loud on the polished flooring, as you walked down the hall as fast as you were able to.

Breathing out deeply, you get to an elevator, pushing on the button, once, twice, three times, just open goddamn it.

With a ding, the metal doors open, and suddenly you're aware that people could be in the elevator, they could be in this elevator, he could be in this elevator. Your eyes flicker down to the floor, your grip on the pole of your iv tightens, your shoulders stiffen, waiting for a blow that will never come.

You stand there as the doors open up, the small space empty, the metal walls reflect only her and a streak of lighting from the ceiling.

Looking up slowly, finally taking a breath, before sliding the iv up and onto the elevator, following it as you press your floor number along the way.

The ride up is fast, a little rumble as it stops, and then the doors open. Faster than you were prepared for.

Peeking out down the hallway, luckily no one to bump into, which you were thankful for. But, it didn't make this hall any less haunting. You'd been cornered in this same hall, you could recall being hauled out of the room after the solid handle of a knife hits your temple.

You don't go down fast enough, whipping around as you stumble to take the wrist of your attacker, mostly for balance, it's Price. In shock, you're unprepared as Johnny's arm encircle your neck, locking you into position as you both stumble backwards onto the floor. He blocks your airways, hushing you harshly as you struggle, feet kicking out and your vision blurring as your team surrounds you. Your family.

That was quite the headache to wakeup with afterwards.

You hadn't quite remembered until now. Being back served as a hell of a kickstart to your memory.

Just a few more reasons to get the fuck off of 141.

Getting off the elevators, the metal doors sliding closed behind you, you make your way down the hall. The polished flooring creates a subtle squeak through the wheels of your iv pole, your hand absently running over the fading stitches along your side.

Passing the shadows of your tortured memory, the doorway of the office was closed, locked.

You pass Kyle's room.

Johnny's.

Finally, you rush up to the next room on the left, grabbing the handle, before beginning to twist, but then you're yanking your hand back as if the metal had burned you. Your back ramming into the back wall, catching yourself, this wasn't your room.

It was Simon's.

You'd spent hours, days, in that room. More than your own.

Why wouldn't you? You were about to get married to the man. You had more in this room than you had in yours.

Sharp breaths leave you, shivering in your effort to keep yourself together, your head goes back into the wall, swallowing down the ache in your chest.

You wait, muscles tensed and your body pressing back into the wall, hoping it'd absorb you if that door opens. Listening for every sound, any pin drop, even an exhale from beyond that doorway. Luckily, Simon seemed to be out for the day.

Hurriedly, nearly running, you steady yourself against the wall as you rush down to the corner of the hallway, finally finding your room.

Turning the handle, it's not locked, it's broken. It opens with ease.

Entering the room slowly, pushing the doorway aside, the crackle of glass beneath your boots as you step forwards, clothes and picture frames laying scattered.

The mattress flipped and ripped open, springs and cotton cut from it. Your wall of metals and certificates, from acts of bravery and mementos of valor, discarded, later you'd find them in the trash, one with a bullet lodged into the gold.

Sniffling as you leaned down, picking a specific frame off the ground, the only one that hadn't been broken. Laying along the ruined rug, with no care for the glass digging through your jeans, you stare at the still shot of your family.

The only family you had outside of Task Force 141, your father and his sister, military brats themselves, until their retirement. Your mother had passed, or just up and left, days after your 5th birthday, you weren't completely sure, the story kept changing every year. But, these two were the only family you've ever known, ever had, until you joined the military, following in their footsteps.

They'd been so proud when you arrived back after your first assignment, in truth you were heavily traumatized, but seeing them, you just had to smile. Having a family that understood the harsh toll on the line of a trooper, now a lieutenant, it was always easier to bring your troubles to them. But, they were also military nuts so "suck it up" was also a quick go to answer from your aunt, while your father was the smoother talker.

They had met Simon, loved him, his rank, his love for you, his seriousness. They trusted him completely with your heart.

So, when he called them, after the evidence leaked...

They believed him.

"What're you talking about?" You took the handle of the chair in your grip, easing you down into it as your legs do weak at what you were hearing. "I didn't...I didn't do it, Dad."

"Do you know how humiliating and disappointing--how it felt to hear him say that to me, hm?" he says, static crackles on the reciever. "My daughter...my own flesh and blood...working with terrorists--"

"I'm not working with anyone! Are you-" you huff out a breath of disbelief. "Are you even listening to me? I've never betrayed the code. How can you think that way of me?"

For a moment, he's silent. "Alright, then," he began. "Than, what'd you do? huh?"

"What--what..."

"Oh, come on, (Y/n)!" your father yells. "What did you do?! What could they possibly have had on you that made you the most likely target? You had to have had done something, been somewhere, were with somebody you weren't supposed to be with! They didn't just get that information from anywhere."

"What the fuck--" Your expression twists with frustration and misery, running your hand through your hair, pulling at it. "I've sacrificed every part of myself for this job, for this team, what do I have to gain from throwing that all away? They send me everywhere, places you've never heard of, places you'll never hear about and people you'll never have to meet, because of me! Why would you just believe Simon? Why couldn't you just wait to talk to me?!"

Hearing your father scoff at your words was painful. "What reason do I have not to believe him? He knows you, maybe even better than any of us. Besides, he was going to be my son in law--"

"I'm your daughter! Fuck Simon, what about me? You'd believe him instead?"

He sighs. "Listen, you're upsetting Cass. We didn't expect your call. I gotta make this brief..."

"You're upset?" pulling at your hair, sucking in sharply. "I'm the one who's permanently fucking altered here. What do either of you have to be upset about?!"

"Watch your fucking mouth!" he seethes. The anger in his voice isn't new, but the way he spits it at you is. "You did this to yourself, I didn't. Maybe that's what your nightmares were about, am I right? Your guilt?"

Wiping the streaks of tears that had fallen down your face, lips quivering and chest aching with sobs you frustratedly shoved down. "Why don't you believe me?"

"I don't deserve the disgrace that will come with you as my kin, I've lived my part of this war. No daughter of mine should even be in this fucking position," your father spat, disgusted into the receiver. Suddenly, he was the cruel, bitter old man your mother had always known him to be, you wished she had stayed to at least remind you of that. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt as much. "You should be ashamed of yourself, but at least you got yourself out it. The least you could do for us."

"Well--what does that mean?" you spoke, quietly.

"Don't call again..."

"Dad, no--" you break this time, a sob escaping you.

"Me and your Aunt Cass..."

"Daddy please, don't do this--"

"..We've decided to cut ties. We're not taking any heat from this, you're on your own," he finishes, clearing his throat, waiting a moment, listening to the pleads and cries of his only daughter, his once pride. "You take care of yourself. Goodbye, kid."

"Why can't you just believe me? Why?!" you cried.

"Don't come to the house."

"No, no,--" the line goes dead. And staring down at your phone, his caller id going blank and the call disconnecting.

Your phone all of a sudden feels heavy, the device and your hand falling down to your thigh, before the phone slips out of your grip and onto the floor. You sit there silently, until your tears drop up and even after.

Staring at the photo now was haunting in its own way, it was just another painful reminder.

Using the bed frame to stand to your feet, your grip on the frame is painful as you squeeze it, the glass cracks audibly.

"Bonnie..."

Whipping around at the sound of John MacTavish's voice, you back up a few steps at the sight of him, your back hitting the edge of your desk.

He reaches out as you stumble, before his fingers curl back into his palm as you find your balance, his hands receding back to his sides. He doesn't enter the room, just lingering just beyond the doorway, his eyes flickering around the room, guiltily.

"I didn't know--we didn't know you were out," he speaks quietly, as opposed prideful personality that translated into his voice usually.

You say nothing.

In the dark, your eyes are wide and your shoulders are tensed up, he can see the glint of your leg braces, the iv pole at the side, the scar beneath your eye. You looked terrified to see him.

"We were coming back to clean up today, just got back from...from a mission..." he stutters on his words, shifting his feet.

"It's been a week."

His lips press together hearing your voice. "I know..." Johnny glances around at the room he'd let those officers destroy, it hadn't been them, but they might as well had done it. "I know...we just...didn't know it was so bad."

"Really?" your voice is mockingly sweet, drawing out the word. "You didn't know? Well look..." you hold up your family photo, the light in the hallway catching on the glass. "You missed one."

Your hand dropping, the heavy frame comes down just as fast, ramming into the ground, the glass practically exploding on impact.

Johnny flinches, the photo of your family...He looks back to you, surprised. "Bonnie..."

Snatching the next closest thing from your desk, a ceramic cup. "Oh, wow, can't believe you guys missed this one," you chuck it into the wall. It breaks on impact, the remains scatter along the flipped mattress and onto the floor. "That used to be my favorite mug by the way."

The Scotsman worriedly steps forwards, 'Lass, I'm sorry--"

"FUCK YOU!" you spat, coming into the light. You're sure you look deranged, and you didn't care. You could've wrapped your hands around his throat, killed him right on the floor and you wouldn't have blinked. "It doesn't mean anything! 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', over and over and over again! As if you shouldn't be! Your apologies mean fuck all."

"I know...I know," he breathes. "But, I've gotta say it anyway, bonnie. I should've believed you, there was no reason not to. I know that now. I just--"

"Believe me!" you cut him off with a yell. "Trust me! Fucking 'HELP ME'!" you screamed with the same fever as your days in the interrogation room, that terrible cell, the cold, the burn and pain. "I cried it all to you, to all of you, and nobody came. Nobody came for me," you breathe in sharply. "It doesn't matter what you should've done. You didn't do it!"

Johnny's eyes are red, he opens his mouth, closes it and then swallows down whatever chokes him up as he looks at you. "I should've came for you. I wish I did. I wanted to, Bonnie..." he steps forwards, and you recede back away from him, your eyes narrowed with violence. "I'll never forgive myself for not listening to you. For not coming to help you. For laying a hand on you. I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I'm sorry..."

I'll never forgive myself... "That makes two of us," you assured.

Johnny's eyes widen, before they close, his guilt ever consuming. He can't help but understand, to respect your decision, to know things can never be ok again. "(Y/n)...."

Grabbing hold of the nearest thing, a pencil cup, you hurl it at Johnny. He doesn't put his hands up, flinching as it hits him, the metal clinking against his kevlar, eyes closing then opening, he stands still. "I don't forgive. I don't accept your apology. I don't fucking care about it!" with each sentence you throw something else his way, a broken frame, the trash bin, a pillow, the CD player.

His hand has to come up for the knife you unsheathe, a memento from one of your missions, it's rusted, ancient probably. But, you hadn't given it up to a museum or to pawn, you had nearly died on this mission, saving Johnny ironically. You had to keep it.

Seeing the weapon, his defensive position is instinctive but his hands drop just as fast, he understands, you need this. You deserve this. "If you need to..." he speaks. Your eyes flicker up to him, away from the knife. "If you need to, I get it..."

And you need to. You really fucking do.

Your grip on the knife is dangerously hard, it hurts.

Looking at Johnny, he'd been your brother in more than a few ways on and off the field, he had been your comfort, your friend, your family. You had bled with him, held onto him as he carried you from the battlefield, joked, laughed, screamed and cried. You've loved him for years.

He'd had a rough few nights you could see that. He was quieter, reserved. Almost as terrified to see you, as you had been of him.

And you could kill him right now and never bat an eye.

And so, throwing that knife was so fucking easy.

Johnny's eyes close as you do just that, fists clenching and teeth biting down on his tongue to prepare for the pain.

The ancient weapon whiz's through the air, the sound is sharp and he knows it will cut through him like butter.

The thud rings in the room, and Johnny's eyes blow open wide, holding his breath as he collapses to his knees, before turning to you.

You dig into the pile of clothes that had been cast aside, a pair of sneakers and a new shirt. You don't look at him a single time as you take it all, stuffing them in a bag, and leaving the room, passing him completely, a limp in your step.

Johnny releases a pained breath, tears finally leaving him as he looks up, the knife lodged into the frame of the doorway, just barely missing him. The sleeve of his uniform ripped open.

He sits there in the quiet, destroyed room. A testimony to the relationship he's destroyed between you.

Part 4!! OUT NOW

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for pretending I cheated on my partner when our common friend asked why we fought?

It will sound fake and fictional, but please bear with me because I'm getting crazy over it. And also sorry for any english mistake, we're not from an english speaking country.

To give some context: I am a man. There was this person, B(m), which whom I kind of grew up with. We went through the same schools from our 6 years old to 17 but we never were really friends. Then, around our 13, I got into a clique that fed into all my bad habits and I started to actively bully B because he seemed like an easy target at the time. I enjoyed it and was encouraged to do so (because I was such an asshole and I'm not even cringing thinking about it, it's worse. I regret it so much and I was a stupid and bad teenager). It was so bad that after years of enduring it, B changed school before we graduated and I went on with my life.

It' was's been about 15 years ago that I graduated.

In the meantime, I dealt with some problems that I had with my family and I went through intensive therapy which changed me for the better, and I came to terms with my sexuality as well.

Flashforward to 2019/2020, I meet with someone online through some games and it goes very well. Thanks to the Covid and the lockdowns, we play even more and get closer. At some point, I talk about an event happening close to my city, and he tells me that he knows about it as well and that we're living close to each other. Because we enjoyed our time online (ngl, we had started flirting although I didn't know how sincere it was) we decided to meet at that event.

And there, I find out that my online friend is B. It's extremely awkward but only for me because he cannot recognize me for three reasons: 1. I changed physically with my puberty finally finishing the job after my 18 birthday, and I found some love into dying my hair. 2. I changed in terms of personality thanks to the therapy I went through. 3. My legal name was changed when I said goodbye to this fucking family of mine and left without turning back (but I was getting sick just saying my last name).

I, obviously, didn't tell him anything about who I really was because I just wanted to enjoy that evening with a friend, and we didn't see each other since he left high school because of me. My plan was just to slowly distance myself from him after that evening but it failed because we had a lot of fun and we actually really hit off and I was dying constantly at the idea that he could find out.

We've been in a relationship sicne the beginning of 2021 and I was decided to just never tell him (horrifying idea I know, anyone with a braincell would have told me that it was bound to be found).

A month ago, I met with an old friend from high school (so yeah, he was in the bullying gang but more of a followers, so we stayed in friendly terms when we both agreed that it was bad) and as he recognized B, he decided to excuse himself and hoped that B would forgive him like he "forgave" me (I never got to tell that friend to shut up about that) so yeah, B found out that I was his main bully who had lied to him for almost 4 years now.

We had quite a big talk about it. How bad my bullying ended up for B; why I lied like that and never admitted it. And even if it went alright, B told me that he needed a break to think about things and it's going to be one month that I'm crashing at a common friend of us. At first, I just said that B and I got into a fight and it was good enough, but as it's been already a month, the friend asked more about it. Not wanting to bring up B's trauma to someone else (especially after our conversation), I just told the first lie that came to me and pretended that I cheated on B and he found out.

Now that common friend is calling me an asshole and keeps reminding me how much they are disappointed in me to have done something so horrifying to B. I keep wondering if I did well to lie like that, or if I should have found another way out.

[mauvecherie-writes]

the kaleidoscope theory: l.hamilton.

• pairing: lewis hamilton x black!oc kalani halloway

• chapter warnings: none

• w.c: 3.8K

• ru’s 💌: First thing first, I want to apologise for how long it took to post this. With school and placement taking up a lot of my time, amongst other distractions and my mental health just not being the best for a while, writing has not been my main priority, and I am trying to make up for that now. Updates will be slow, but they won’t be non-existent. Please don’t forget to like, comment and re-blog.

• tip: kofi | paypal

series masterlist

CHAPTER ONE

PRESENT DAY

“ARE you sure that you want to keep doing this with him Lani? Like I love you and I’ll always be in your corner, but I have to agree with your therapist here. What are you gaining from continuing to sleep with Malik?”

The bluntness of the question almost knocked the wind out of Kalani’s lungs. Over the decades of their friendship, she had come to know that Julian did not pull any punches when it came to honesty. It should not have shocked her that her best friend would react like this to the revelation of such news. Maybe it was the exasperation and disappointment that she picked up in his tone that made Kalani want to shrivel into herself from shame.

“Lani!” His voice boomed through the car speaker, breaking her train of thought. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I��m still here.” She mumbled as her hands tightened around the stirring wheel.

“Well, are you going to answer my question or not?”

“It was a moment of weakness okay!” She exclaimed, finally admitting it to herself and to her best friend. “There was always an excuse to get me alone. To discuss the divorce or something about the kids. And he’d just … he would charm me, and I would be reminded of why I fell in love with him in the first place then I’d give in.”

“Tuh.” Julian scoffed. “Talk of the divorce like he’s not trying to distract you from the fact that he has not signed those papers.” He added, the truth causing her shoulder to sag as she leaned back into her seat.

“I know.”

“Baby, I’m not trying to make you upset —.” He sighed, speaking in a much tender tone. But it was too late. The shame that had been brewing in her stomach for so long had bubbled back up her throat.

“I just need you to really think about this. It has been two years since you have asked for the divorce, Malik keeps stalling signing the papers, under the guise of trying to make it work. But we all know that he is still with that bitch. Like he can’t have his cake and eat it too. He doesn’t have any regard for who he’s hurting and that is you and the kids. I need you to be better than your weakness for him. It’s not fair.”

His words were hurtful to hear but Kalani could not argue against them because she knew that they were true. That is why she had decided to begin therapy. She had not slept with Malik in over six months since she had started her therapy session. This round, Kalani had finally shared the truth that she had on tinted with intimacy with her ex-husband despite the separation.

“I KNOW.” Kalani sniffed as her tears threatened to spill over. The tremble in her voice could not be hidden and Julian picked up on it.

“Lani, listen-.”

“Hey, so um — I gotta go. I need to pick up Princess from my aunt’s place.” Kalani quickly spoke out as she rounded the corner into a residential street. “Talk later.”

She did not wait for him to respond as she ended the phone call. Kalani took a deep breath as she put the car into an empty parking spot. She continued to sulk in her seat as the heaviness in her chest had returned. Everything that Julian had said to her were all things that she knew and had known from the first time, she had slept with him after they split.

Stuck in the moment, every time they had done the deed had felt good. In some way, it had felt like she had been reclaiming her power. It felt good to know that in some way, her ex still wanted her. In Kalani’s need to be desired by the man that she was married to for nearly twenty years, she had momentarily lost herself and had forgotten what was important.

The happiness of her children.

So Kalani took in a deep breath and exhaled, wiped away her tears and re-applied her lip gloss. She practised her smile in the rear-view mirror until she was satisfied with a more approachable facial expression. She got out of her car and fixed the legs of her pantsuit before she walked a short distance on the pathway and onto the property.

It did not take any time from her opening the small front gate for the front door to be opened.

“Mummy!” The excited shriek of her young daughter sounded through the air as her little feet carried her as fast as they could towards her. Kalani immediately dent down to her level and opened her arms, waiting for her daughter. She dived into her arms and Kalani could just feel all of that heaviness began to lift away from her heart. As her daughter squeezed her little around her neck, Kalani immediately felt better.

“Hi, my Princess!” She smiled at Tiara. Princess’s little giggles were what she got in response as she pulled back to look into her mother’s eyes.

“I missed you so much, Mummy.”

“I missed you too! Did you enjoy school and time with Auntie Angie?”

“Mhm!” Tiara nodded her head as she played with Kalani’s earrings. “Today, I learnt what a doing word is! And then Auntie Angie baked me a banana cake.”

“The cake is for all of you, not just you baby.” Aunt Angela spoke from behind Tiara which caused Kalani to chuckle as a frown appeared on her little girl’s face.

“Emi doesn’t like banana cake as much as I do!” Tiara exclaimed.

“I know baby. But can we at least save a piece for brother first?”

“Okay.” Her small voice of defeat made Kalani’s heart swoon. She cradled her daughter’s head to her chest as she walked towards the door where Angela had been standing with Tiara’s belongings and the wrapped up banana cake.

“Hi sweetie.” Angela had greeted her as she awkwardly hugged Kalani.

“Hi Auntie.” She replied. It was like she could feel the love outpouring from the embrace. And it took all of her strength to not break down then and there.

“You okay?” Angela asked her. Kalani softly nodded her head, not trusting her words in that moment. She took a deep breath before offering a smile of re-assurance.

“Just need my baby.” Kalani replied. “Thank you for looking after her today.”

“You never have to thank me for that. I love Princess and I love spending time with her.”

After a couple of more minutes of casual conversation, Kalani and Tiara said their goodbyes and then left her aunt’s home. On the journey to pick up Emil, she sang along to the current kid bops that Tiara was currently enjoying. Her daughter filled the car with chatter about what her day at school was and repeated stories of previous adventures. Kalani did not mind at all. Hearing her daughter talk was far more enjoyable than being left with the chaos that was her thoughts.

~

When they had arrived at the local sports and leisure centre, Kalani noticed that by the outdoor astroturf, there was a larger crowd than there should be for a practice on an early Wednesday evening . She walked hand in hand with Tiara towards the grounds and smiled when she noticed the crowds full of young and old cheering on.

No matter how much Emil had tried to teach her, there were still aspects of the game of football that she would never understand. However, that never changed how much Kalani cheered on Emil and supported him. She knew that he had fallen in love with football due to Malik’s love for the sport, his passion came from within, and Emil had the talent to match. If Emil was willing to play, then Kalani was going to do everything that she could to make sure that he continued to play to his greatest heights.

From where Kalani stood, she could tell that it was an intense game for a practise but neither the Red nor Green sides seemed to care. When Emil touched the ball, he sprinted across the field with incredible of the ball and passing by the red players who were trying to defend. Emil then passed the ball to another green player who was open. This player then quickly shot the ball into the net, scoring the winning goal.

The crowd, including Kalani and Tiara cheered for the green shirts.

The game came to an end and with the crowds beginning to disperse, Tiara shot away from Kalani’s side and ran towards his older brother as she screamed his name. She smiled as she watched Emil pick up his little sister and throw her into the air, catch her and then spin her around.

As she proudly watched the moment, she caught a growing crowd from the corner of her eye. She noticed a man standing in the middle with the biggest smile on his face as he tried to greet every one that was surrounding him. That bright smile with the small tooth gap was the first thing that caught her attention. His twisted strands were in a ponytail, but his sides and beard were nicely trimmed in a way that brought attention to his chiselled facial features. Kalani’s eyes travelled to his large and muscular tatted arms that even with his bronzed, umber complexion, the design of the tattooed sleeves stood out. He was dressed simply, in a black, sleeveless knitted vest and what looked like black trousers. Kalani had spent too much time staring at him for her to notice that his jewellery was expensive and some of it was probably custom made.

As if picking up on her inquisitive eyes, the man looked up and stared right at her. She had never seen such an intense yet sincere pair of eyes that were the smoothest of chocolate brown. Kalani bit her lip in embarrassment at being caught looking when he smiled at her. She quickly averted her gaze to her children, who were walking towards her and tried not to think about why the stranger felt vaguely familiar.

“Hi Mum.” Emil greeted her as he placed Tiara down on her feet before reaching towards her and giving her a sideways hug. Kalani reciprocated the hg and patted his sweat drenched curls.

“Hi baby, you were great out there.” She complimented him which caused him to grin.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her.

“Any particular reason why you guys were playing like it was the finals of the Premier League?”

“Oh! The owner of the centre is here, and we just wanted to impress him I guess.”

“You were out there acting like he’s like a talent scout.” Kalani chuckled.

“He might as well be. He used to be a sportsperson, so he knows a lot of people.”

“Like Mbappa right?”

“Mbappé, Mum. Mbappé.” Emil corrected her with a roll to his eyes.

“Well, whatever his name is.” Kalani shrugged her shoulders and then picked Tiara into her arms. “Anyway, go get your stuff. We need to be home before 8:30.”

For a fraction of a moment, she saw her son’s gleeful demeanour slip. He nodded his head and then jogged away. Kalani watched as he stopped and talked to the same man that she had made eye contact with. The joy in his face was back once more and it eased the tension within her. She was sending them to their fathers’ for the weekend as she needed some time to herself to re-charge before she embarked on a large project at work.

However, Emil had made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with the man that he had once idolised. Emil confessed to enduring the visit for the sake of Tiara, who was still trying to adjust to the separation.

When he came back, they all hurdled into the car and they drove back home, not before stopping for a takeaway pizza collection.

After they had arrived back at their home, Kalani rushed her children to take their evening showers before preparing their bags.

Kalani stayed downstairs as she prepared their dinner. Alongside the pizza, she made a simple arugula salad with cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and a balsamic dressing. Once she had set the table and could finally take a sip of her white wine.

She dreaded the weekends when her children were away. Because it forced her to think. It forced her evaluate every single decision that led to this very moment that she was currently residing in.

Her hatred for Malik increased.

Memories of their past floated in front of her. Her and Malik dancing around the kitchen as they cooked whilst Emil set the kitchen table and Tiara narrating stories from her vivid imagination.

They were so happy.

They were so in love.

Where in the fuck did he ever find the time to cheat on her? She wondered.

That was a question that she never got an answer to. And it was a question, she was afraid of what the answer may be. It just was not something that she was ready to confront. Kalani was left to deal with all of that harbouring anger all alone.

“Mummy look! Me and Emi are matching!” Tiara rushed rushed down the stairs with Emil in tow. When Kalani turned her head towards their direction, a laughter full of elation burst from her when she noted that the duo were indeed matching. Tiara was dressed in a hot pink Nike tracksuit that was a contrast to Emil’s grey one.

“She wasn’t going to wear anything else.” Emil commented as they entered the large kitchen area, approaching the sink to wash their hands.

“That’s okay. Princess just wants to be like her big brother huh.” Kalani smiled as she smoothed her daughter’s hair.

“Yep!” Tiara gave them her dazzling smile. “Except, I don’t like football, and he doesn’t like banana cake!” The little girl stated before her focus shifted to the slices of banana cake on the table. “Ooouuu caaaakkee.”

“Not so fast, young lady!” Kalani spoke up which stopped Tiara in her tracks. “Can you eat some pizza first before the cake?”

“Okay, Mummy.” She pouted as she moved to sit down in her chair by the table. Emil shook his his head as he plated a slice of pizza for himself before sitting down.

They sat in silence as they ate their food, but Kalani could tell from her son’s solemn expression that something was bothering him.

“You okay baby?” She asked him as a worried expression marked her face.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He offered her a smile that she didn’t believe.

“You sure? You know that you can always talk to me, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just -.” Emil stopped talking before he let out a sigh. He then turned his attention to Tiara who was focused on trying to do a cheese pull. “I’m not ready to talk about it.” He concluded.

Kalani swallowed as she tried to not be disappointed with his response. Outside of the pure anger that was palpable whenever his father was mentioned, Emil had concealed his emotions about the divorce from her, always giving her that same answer of not being ready to talk. She had offered for him to go to therapy but he refused, saying that he did not need it.

“I caught him cheating Mum, not killing somebody.” He had said to her after the therapy suggestion. She dropped it then, however as her sessions continued, the more she wanted to push for Emil to go. But she was not going to force his hand. He’d go when he was ready.

“How’s this? When you come back, I’ll take the day off work and break you out of school and we do whatever you want. Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that.” Emil replied as a small smile returned to his face. Kalani reached over and softly pinched his cheek.

“That’s my boy.” She wicked at him.

They finished dinner in a much better mood with Emil updating her on his coming football schedule so that she could make time for it in her diary. And it wasn’t long after they had cleared the table did the doorbell ring.

Kalani glanced over to the clock on the wall. It was 8:40pm.

A cloud of tension suddenly covered the serenity of their home as she realised who was at the front door. Kalani looked at her son, who was already moving to collect Tiara from her position in her play area by the living room.

“Give me five minutes, I need to talk to your father about something.” She said to him. Emil nodded his head.

“Princess come on, gotta make sure that you have all of your toys ready.” He said before picking her up and giving her a piggy-back ride up the stairs which caused her to squeal with each step.

Kalani mentally prepared herself as she dried her hands with a hand towel before she headed to the door.

With one more pep talk, she swung the door open and met her ex-husband with a close-lipped smile with her body blocking the entrance.

Standing shy of 6 foot 2 inches with a rich, tawny complexion, a shaved head and trimmed goatee – Malik was a physically handsome man. At forty-three, he kept himself fit, had an impeccable wardrobe (that she introduced him to) and a gorgeous smile that her daughter inherited. Full lips with slick words that could charm the pants off a recluse. She would know, they’d been working on her for close to two decades.

“Hi Lani.” He smiled down at her.

“Hi Malik.” Her tone was curt, which caused his cheeky expression to slip by minor fraction, but she caught it.

“How are you?” He asked. “You look beautiful as ever.” He complimented her, trying to work his charm as he had done so many times before.

It wasn’t going to work this time.

“Thanks.” She narrowed her eyes before she moved to step outside. She drew the door close and left it slightly agar.

“I need to talk to talk to you about something.”

“Are the kids okay?” He worried.

“They’re as fine as they can be. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Then what?”

“When are you going to sign the papers, Malik? You’ve been putting them off for far too long now.”

“What do you mean sign?” He frowned in confusion. “I thought that we were taking this time to figure things out.”

“What things?!” Kalani sternly exclaimed in a hushed voice. “You refused couple’s counselling. Emil doesn’t want therapy and wont talk to me about it. Tiara thinks you’re working on a big project at work because she doesn’t understand that we’re separated.” As the words spat out of her mouth, the angrier she became. “Let’s not fucking forget, that little girlfriend of yours is still around and you thought that I didn’t know about it.”

“She’s not Kalani!” Malik quickly tried to shut down her accusation.

“Oh please!” She scoffed as she looked at him up and down in disgust. “Her perfume is lingering on you right now. I should know, I was washing it off for years!” She hissed.

Kalani watched as Malik tried to sniff his clothes and that disgusted her even more as she could see the gears in his mind churning up an excuse.

“Listen, it’s not like that.” He began to say.

“I don’t give a shit what it’s like. I want those divorce paper signed and delivered to my office by Monday. If not then no more nice Kalani, I’ve put up with your shit for too long.”

Without giving Malik a chance to reply, she opened the door just as she picked up on the patter of feet rushing down the stairs. Tiara zoomed past her and dove into her father’s legs, hugging them.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” She chanted, bouncing with excitement. Malik picked her up into his arms and gave him one of his practised smiles as he peppered her face with kisses.

“My gorgeous girl! You’re getting so big!” He said which caused Tiara to grin.

“Look! My tooth fell out and the tooth fairy gave me one pound and Mummy told me to add it to my piggy bank!”

“Oh, that’s so awesome Princess!”

“When all my teeth fall out, I’m gonna be rich!”

“Oh, I bet!” Malik tickled her sides which caused another high-pitched squeal to leave Tiara. In all of her rage, it was the joy of her daughter that mattered to her. Emil trotted to her side, holding their weekend bags.

“You got everything baby?” She asked him. He nodded his head.

She hated having to send him with his father, but she did not trust Malik to care for Tiara without Emil’s assistance. She brought in her son for a tight hug and kissed the side of his head. “It’s just two days and you’ll be back.”

Emil sighed at those words before nodding his head. “Bye Mum.” He mumbled before he kissed her cheek and walked past Malik without acknowledging him. She could see that Malik was trying to not let that get to him but kept a brave face for Tiara. It may be horrible to admit but it felt nice to know that there was one more person who hated his guts the way she did.

‘Right, Princess, you’re going to be on our best behaviour for your father, okay?” Kalani said to Tiara.

“Mhm.” Tiara nodded her head before Kalani placed a kiss on her forehead.

“We’ll talk about what we talked about later.” Malik glared at her.

“Unless it’s about that signature, then we have nothing to talk about.” She glared back.

Kalani waved goodbye to her children as Malik drove away. Once she shut her front door, she let out the biggest sigh of relief as her body relaxed. She had not realised just how tense she had been in the minutes Malik was here.

It had felt like hours.

With her body on autopilot, Kalani finished cleaning up the kitchen and packing away Tiara’s toys before she grabbed her bottles of wine, forgoing the glass and dragged her body up the stairs to her bedroom. As she prepared for her evening bath, she put her favourite playlist on and danced to the music as she stripped down to her bathing suit.

Once her tub was full of hot water and bubbles, she sank down, laying down her head on the towel. She took a large gulp of her wine and get the bottle down.

With only the sultry voice of Sadé as solace, Kalani let her walls down and cried to her hearts content.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @laneywrld @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel @hotfudgeslug @iamryanl @pickingupmymercedes @eleetalks @ambs-06 @annisassintchaska @boujiestpoet @nayaesworld @nat-lh-44

[charliemwrites]

Chapter 4

Content: Threats/Expectation of Torture, Dub-Con, Consensual Non-Consent Elements, Hurt/Comfort

The lines are getting thinner. Day by day, touch by touch. The parts of you that buck and bray against captivity begin to settle into the dangerous clutches of this isn’t so bad.

It’s exhausting to resist, especially when every part of you isn’t unilaterally aligned. The boundary between deep, dark desire and actual circumstance is narrowing into something you can’t discern anymore. Blurring into a strange delirium. Mornings with Ghost’s fingers inside you and afternoons warming Johnny’s cock. Meals prepared by hands that have snuffed as many lives as your own. A voice that once menaced you now lulls you to sleep.

Every interaction is a double-edged blade of seduction and condemnation. You moan at the tug of a collar you’re not free to remove. Johnny leans into the same hand that just bruised his wrist. A dozen scenarios that walk the line, never tipping either of you towards or away from Ghost.

It's things like Johnny waking in the dead of night, screaming. You know what’s going on even half-asleep; the same dream-memories lock you into burning paralysis. He’s clutching at his shoulder, fingers of the same arm spasming. Coughing on phantom smoke, seeing a night sky polluted by columns of flame instead of the ceiling.

“Kit! Kit!” he rasps, painful and terrified.

“Johnny, I’m here,” you call back, heart pounding. “Johnny, wake up! It’s over, we’re okay!”

You tug fruitlessly at the collar, at the chain. It’s useless, you know it is, but you can’t just sit there and watch him suffer again. Hate Ghost and this house and your own compliance with the same fire that nearly engulfed you and Johnny.

A shadow moves at the edge of your vision. Ghost.

You beg him to let you go to Johnny, to let you help. He ignores you for the moment, kneeling at Johnny’s side and rolling him onto his back. Speaks him back to reality, voice low and gravelly, reminding of details he has no right to know – how long you both spent in the hospital, the day of your mutual discharge, the months you two spent in physical therapy.

You want to cry, want to scream, want to be there with them. But Johnny’s finally calming down and you won’t ruin it all by losing your threadbare composure.

The first thing he asks when he’s got his breath, mumbling and fuzzy, “Where’s Kit?”

Ghost crosses back to you, unlocks the chain. You scramble to Johnny’s side in an instant, practically crashing into his chest as he reaches for you. He breathes deep when you gather him in, pressing his wet face to your neck.

“I’m here, I’m okay,” you whisper, shaky hands squeezing at his sore shoulder.

His own trembling, clammy hands paw your shirt up, press to the scarring on your hip. Assuring himself it’s healed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, “I never should have gone in—”

“You were doing your job,” you interrupt. Unwilling to relive the memory again or let him torture himself with it. “And I did mine.”

The cushion shifts behind you. Thick arms circle you and Johnny, guide you back against a sturdy body. Like this, Ghost feels more solid than the ground. You want to hate him. Could – should – blame him for Johnny suffering alone and resent that he comforted him first. You find yourself leaning into his strength and warmth instead.

“Not your fault the intel was bad, pup,” Ghost murmurs, carding fingers through Johnny’s sweaty mohawk.

Eventually, you and Johnny start to doze. Snuggling in with sleepy sighs and the reassurance of the other’s presence. You (or maybe Johnny) might even whine a bit when Ghost shifts as if to leave, clinging onto his sleeve. Either way, you wake the next morning to Johnny sandwiched between you two. For a man who doesn’t even let you see his face, it’s unexpectedly… intimate.

Johnny spends most of the next day in a mood about it – ends up forced to cum scraping his cock against the laces of Ghost’s boots by lunchtime.

And that should be the tipping point, right? Or at least one of them. The awful decadent violating addictive things he does to you two.

You stray too far one morning, thought you heard something in the basement, and he puts you on your knees in the living room. Forces your thighs apart with his boots imprinting the tender skin of your thighs. Grinds the tread against your crotch until you’re squirming and teary. It’s uncomfortable… but also makes you whimper for more, body on fire and apologizing into his thigh just for a bit of relief.

Johnny mouths off for the third time in an hour – was already warned twice. Ghost makes you edge Johnny for two hours, fingers in his hole and tongue flicking over his cock.

“Been gagging for the kitten to do this to you for a while, eh, mutt?” Ghost coos, pinning Johnny’s wrists above his head. “I know it’s one of your favorite fantasies.”

And then when Johnny seems like he’s at the breaking point, Ghost makes you milk his prostate until he loses his voice entirely.

And that’s just when Ghost is in a good mood.

He comes down one morning visibly irritable. Eyes dark, shoulders tense. All his movements are short and quick, almost aggressive. When you try to ask him if something is wrong at breakfast, he grunts at you to shut up and eat. And when Johnny makes a snippy comment about “bad manners,” Ghost forces his jaw open and lifts his mask just enough to spit in his mouth.

Then he storms out the door without another word. Johnny’s left flushed, awkwardly pressing the heel of his hand against the bulge in his joggers.

Ghost returns hours later and doesn’t seem any less moody. In fact, he seems worse now. You and Johnny exchange glances. He’s already cooking up mischief, you can see it from across the room. Never did learn when to leave well enough alone. All it takes is for you to subtly shake your head at his little smirk. That might as well be a greenlight.

“Well then, Ghost?” he drawls.

Ghost, who’s been aimlessly (peacefully) flipping through channels, stops. Not that he was fidgety before, but at the smarmy note in Johnny’s voice, he gets stony. You grimace and shoot Johnny another staying look. Mouthy little bastard you may be, you’ve always had a good sense for when to shut your stupid mouth. Your serial killer kidnapper being in a shit mood is one of those times.

“Ya done sulking yet? Gonna tell us who pissed in yer cornflakes?” Johnny continues, lounging against the wall with his first arms folded behind his head. “You gonna pack your shit in or keep being a bellend?”

You feel the exact moment that Ghost’s patience snaps. The room goes cold.

He drops the tv remote onto the cushion next to him, cracks his neck, and exhales deeply. Then stands and lopes across the room. Not to Johnny.

To you.

“Ghost—” you yelp, scrambling back. Don’t get far. He snags two thick fingers around the collar and jerks you away from the wall.

“Hey!” Johnny shouts. “Hey, yeah radge bastard! I’m the one that pissed you off.”

Struggling is no use, you know that. Still, you jerk and squirm, heart pounding. Draw your fist back, only to have it caught in an iron grip. It’s going to bruise, your bones ache.

“Fucking do it,” Ghost growls, lower and rougher than you’ve ever heard. Beyond the balaclava, his gaze is burning coal. “See what happens, kitten.”

When he releases your arm, you can’t bring yourself to follow through. All your strength is just in keeping your spine straight. The unspoken threat – his sharp-toothed, blood-hungry encouragement – leeches all but survival from your body.

No praise comes for choosing the wise path this time. You tremble in its absence.

The chain slithers away. Even if you thought running would do any good, you can’t collect your legs to try. Ghost doesn’t ask (or demand) that you do. Hand still hooked in your collar, he starts dragging you along, crawling on hands and knees at his side.

Johnny is still protesting, volume and desperation rising like a tide, flooding the room with impotent panic. You can’t make out individual pleas, the crashing waves of your own fear too loud in your ears. Ghost’s silence is roiling, violent.

You get halfway down the hall before realizing your destination. The inconspicuous white door looms ahead, sinister. You can’t swallow the scream that tears from your throat.

“No, no, Ghost you promised!” you cry, bucking and thrashing.

You manage to slip his hold and fall back, twisting and scrambling to escape. Just stumble halfway to your feet, about to cross the threshold back to the den. See Johnny’s huge, regretful eyes and blanched face, mouth parted as he strains towards you.

Then cruel arms circle your waist and yank.

“No!” you shriek, kicking at air. Ghost doesn’t even grunt with the effort of hauling you down the hall. “No, Ghost, please!”

The locks are open you realize as cool air rushes past. Your efforts double, but he easily drags you down a set of wooden stairs. All you do is earn a threatening hand around your hitching throat. You sob as shadows swarm, hiccupping that he promised over and over.

Your feet brush cold, flat concrete.

The basement.

He drops you onto something hard, flat, and wooden a few feet above the ground. Your legs hang over the edge, feet swinging. A table. Ghost’s black silhouette blots out the meager light daring to peek in from the hallway.

“G-Ghost,” you choke out.

You expect to be shoved down, tied prone and helpless. Wait for the bite of a blade, the prick of a needle, the cold kiss of a gun. Brace yourself for it, scrabbling for any of the stoic demeanor you once armed yourself in.

You nearly scream again at the touch of warm hands. Not a tight grip around your throat, or a brutal fist to your face, or even strong fingers breaking yours. It’s the firm (but not painful) press of a palm over your mouth and its twin spanning your hip.

“Take a deep breath.”

You peer through watery eyes, trying to find his. With the light behind him, even his gaze is obscured. All you have his voice. Low as it is, he seems… calmer than you expect.

You obey.

“Another.”

You breathe in slowly, exhale evenly.

“Good.” Relief makes you so dizzy that your eyes flutter. Ghost shakes you a bit. “Listen, little one.”

You blink up at him, take another breath, and nod for him to continue.

“I need to get some frustration out and the pup needs to learn a lesson.” He sweeps his thumb over the curve of your hip. You shiver, confused and still frightened, but still trained to react to his touch. “You just need to put on a good show, yeah?”

You try to speak, but his hand doesn’t move, so you settle for making a questioning noise.

“I’m going to torture you,” he explains, as casual as telling you what’s for dinner. “And you’re going to convince the mutt that you hate it.”

His hand slips from your hip to your groin, rocking meaningfully. Tentative understanding dawns with a golden ray of hope.

“The alternative is that Soap takes your place,” Ghost muses in your silence, mistaking it for reluctance. “I won’t be nearly as… humane with him.”

You protest wordlessly, shaking your head.

“No?” he mocks. “You’ll be good for me, then? Let me use you to teach that brat a lesson?”

You nod. Guilt gnaws at you for getting off (literally) so easy when Johnny is up there out of his mind on fear and his own guilt.

That sentiment doesn’t last long.

Ghost rips your clothes away with a growl, leaving them in tatters beneath you. You yelp, genuinely shocked. He moved so fast. There’s nothing teasing or seductive about him, not this time. None of the patience or measure from every previous encounter.

Sharp teeth scrape your jaw, beneath your ear, over your collarbones. Harsh fingers pinch and twist your pebbled nipples until you arch with a shout. He forces his big body between your thighs, grinding your quickly warming groin against unforgiving denim and the bulge hidden beneath.

“Stop, stop!” you cry, half-meaning it, head spinning. “Ghost, please!”

He doesn’t. If anything, your pathetic pleas spur him on.

Your underwear is discarded with another tear of fabric, exposing you to cool air and a mean man.

Ghost’s mouth closes around you, sucking hard, tongue flicking. You scream. High-pitched, wounded. Would jackknife right off the table if not for the merciless pin of your hips. Sounds claw up your throat and leap from your parted lips. You’re not in control of them, not with the way he’s slurping, growling, just the faintest hint of teeth to keep your voice octaves too high.

“No, no, please stop!” you keen.

He shoves two fingers in your gaping mouth, gags you on them until you’re coughing and gasping wetly. Awful, desperate sounds. You throb.

Those fingers circle your hole.

“Don’t!” you wail. “Please, Ghost, not that. I can’t—”

You shriek as one finger pushes inside. Nothing slow or gentle about it, a firm and unrelenting push. He doesn’t wait for you to recover or catch your breath. That single finger pumps in and out of your uncertain body, mechanical. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels dangerous. You squeeze your eyes shut and beg again for him to stop.

In answer, he pulls away long enough to spit directly on your twitching, sensitive hole. Then wedges the second finger alongside the first. This time your scream ends on a sob as his fingers pet your walls. It’s not quite painful, but it feels like it should be. It’s too much. Your body doesn’t sing, it screams for him.

Ghost has already mapped out all the places that make you shake and cry and beg. He seals his mouth around you again, and you’re gone. Bawling and kicking at air, he forces you over the edge faster than anyone ever as.

He works you through it, sticky wetness dripping down to ease the stretch of a third thick finger. Worse still, he doesn’t even slow, keeps going like you haven’t cum at all.

“It hurts!” you sob. “Please, it hurts, I can’t!”

He uses his free hand to toy with your nipples again, adding another layer of overwhelming sensation that melts your brain. The overstimulation almost burns, you can’t tell if it’s ice-cold or white-hot. Just know that your nerves are shot, and yet you’re still rocking into his touch just that slightest damning bit. Because it’s not just too much, it’s not enough. You’re stuffed with his fingers, but you ache for more, for…

“Please, Ghost,” you breathe, hushed and desperate. “Please, fuck me.”

He pulls away with a filthy pop. “Fuck you?” he repeats. There’s a malicious smirk in his voice.

“Please,” you confirm, “please, I want it. D-don’t you want to…?”

He doesn’t answer – not with words. A noise thunders from his chest that raises goosebumps, freezes your blood, and burns through you like wildfire. You don’t know if you’re afraid or aroused, can’t tell if you want to run or bare your throat. It wouldn’t matter regardless. Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore.

You yelp as Ghost slides his fingers out agonizingly slow, pressing against your walls the entire way. His shifts, tugging your ass to the edge of the table and bowing up over you. Sharp teeth nip at the edge of your collar as the blunt head of his cock rubs against your aching entrance. Anticipation and trepidation chase each other through your veins, leave you shaking so hard you’re surprised the table isn’t rattling.

“Relax,” Ghost rumbles in your ear, “or don’t. Won’t make a difference to me.”

There’s nothing gentle or gradual about it, no consideration for his own size or your body’s limits. Just a hot, unrelenting press. You keen as your poor, oversensitive hole yields beneath the onslaught. It burns, you can’t breathe, he doesn’t let you adjust even once the flared head is tucked snuggly inside. Just keeps cramming his fat cock deeper and deeper.

You’re lightheaded when he bottoms out an eternity later. It feels like all the air has been forced from your lungs, like there isn’t room for anything but Ghost. And then he rocks back and slams home again.

This time, the table does rattle.

You grip desperately at the sides, nails scraping. He fucks into you viciously, teeth glinting in a half-feral snarl. There’s no consideration for your pleasure, but he still sends your eyes rolling back with every thrust. You’re too gone, dumb on ecstasy, probably drooling.

A rough hand shoves your thigh back, bending your knee to your chest. His cock rams into your g-spot and your voice breaks on the wail that follows. He shortens his thrusts, half pulling out before plunging back inside, ruthlessly abusing that bundle of nerves, snarling as your walls flutter and spasm.

“No, no, no, not again,” you babble but it’s too late.

The pleasure rapidly overflows into a mind-numbing orgasm, whiting out everything but the exquisite torture of Ghost pounding you through it. This time you can’t even muster the ability to plead or squirm. Even your body seems to surrender to his will, going limp and pliant through waves of overstimulation.

“Not yet,” he growls. “One more, and then you can pass out.”

He snakes his free hand down between your bodies. Tears stream down your temples. Helpless, wordless cries spill from your raw throat, high and sharp. Another orgasm builds frighteningly fast, crackling along your shot nerves until you blow like fuse. Blinding ecstasy cracks up your spine, envelopes your mind, and leaves everything dark.

You wake in the bathtub.

It’s a slow, reluctant crawl back to consciousness. The lights have been dimmed to something soft and warm, filtering through a curtain of curling steam. Like this, the bathroom is a dreamlike blur, all hazy lines and twilight shadow. Water laps at your collarbones, not quite scalding, just the way you like. It’s quiet save for the gentle swish of movement along the surface, and slow breathing by your head. Someone is drawing a cloth gently along your heavy body.

A low, gravelly voice coos, “Back with us, kitten?”

You roll your head, blink syrupy slow at the dark specter of Ghost knelt at your side. His sleeves have been drawn up past his elbows.  One arm supports your neck and head, protecting you from the cold, harsh side of the tub. The other disappears beneath the surface of the water, working slowly back and forth. A reaper paying dues.

“Maybe,” you hum.

He makes an amused noise. Not quite a chuckle, but close.

“You can sleep again soon,” he replies. “I think the pup has suffered for long enough, though.”

You jolt, the cotton candy haze dissolving into bitter ash.

Poor Johnny, thinking Ghost was doing something awful to you. Hearing your screams and cries and begging, only for Ghost to bring you up some indeterminate time later, unconscious. Guilt threatens to swallow you whole.

“Easy now, precious,” Ghost soothes, a hand between your shoulders as you sit up. “Take it slow. I wasn’t gentle with you.”

That becomes evident as you abandon the weightless solace of the hot water. Aches immediately bloom throughout your body, concentrated around your hips and thighs. Your lower spine is sore, a muscle in your thigh feels strained, and your hole…

“Christ,” you whimper, nearly slipping.

Ghost catches you, scoops you out of the tub altogether, and waits for you to steady your fawn-weak legs on the bathmat. You lean into him heavily, soaking wet patches like blood into his sweatshirt. You’ve paid your way like this – imaginary cuts at Johnny’s expense.

You can’t look at Ghost’s egregiously fond gaze without nausea bubbling in your empty stomach. A yawning pit grows there, hollowing you out. You can’t face the mirror either.

Ghost doesn’t interrupt your flagellation. Buffs you down with a towel in silence, polishing the monument he’s built to his own deprivation. Couldn’t have shaped it without the raw material there though, could he? Statues don’t form without a block of unformed marble, can’t make granite of limestone.

He dresses you in one of his hoodies and fresh underwear before returning you downstairs.

The state you find Johnny in breaks your heart. Tear-streaked, puffy-eyed, lips bitten bloody. His hair is tangled and disarrayed, bruised hands limp in his thighs. Though his head is leaned back against the wall, there’s no ease in his body. His jaw is so tight you worry for his teeth, brows furrowed tight. A crumpled ball of tension and regret.

“Johnny,” you say, voice splintering. The shards rain down, popping the bubble of bleak silence suffocating the den.

His eyes fly open. You dart to him, throwing yourself into his arms before he can process what he’s seeing. Press yourself close and tight, eyes stinging at the exhausted tremble in his body. Johnny’s never been anything but fire and stone to you. Warmth and heat and energy, strength and support even with the cracks.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you warble. “I’m so sorry.”

He nudges you back to scan you with glassy eyes, like he’s seeing a miracle right in front of him.

“You… you’re okay,” he rasps, voice shredded to wisps.

You nod, bowing your head in shame. “He – we…” You can’t find the words to explain, don’t even know how to begin. His hands keep drifting over your arms and hands, eyes flicking from your face to your neck to your bare legs.

Ghost chimes in. “Told the kitten to put on a show or you would suffer.”

You want to wipe away Johnny’s half-dry tears, offer the comfort he’s been deprived of. Cowardice grips your arm, suspends it in midair, whispers poisonous doubts about your welcome.

But Johnny presses his cry-flushed cheek into your palm, shuddering through a dry sob. He leans his weight into you, and despite the fatigue, you stay the pillar you’ve always tried to be for him.

“You both need water,” Ghost rumbles, and turns for the kitchen.

Left alone, Johnny doesn’t emerge from the safety he’s found in the hollow of your throat. You cradle him with all the tenderness you can muster, sifting gentle hands through his hair.

“I’m sorry, Johnny,” you whisper finally.

He lets out a sigh and hugs you closer. “Nothin’ to apologize for, Kit. Not mad at ya for protectin’ me. ‘Specially when I put you down there in the first place.”

“I don’t blame you for anything. I wouldn’t have blamed you even if he had…” You shake your head. “Well, regardless, it’s on Ghost for losing his temper.”

He doesn’t respond. You’re not surprised, but your chest squeezes. Johnny’s a proud man, but he’s got a guilt complex a kilometer wide – especially for people he cares deeply for. He’ll be haunted by this for a while.

“I’m just glad you’re alright, luv. Don’t care about a damn other thing.”

You tilt your chin to press kisses to the crown of his head – until he finally peeks out for you to trail more down his ruined face. The kiss starts gentle, warmth and love and reassurance pouring into him from your mouth. Johnny shudders in a breath, cups your jaw. His control slips, mouth parting on desperation and relief, lapping comfort from the edges of your teeth and curl of your tongue.

You only part when Ghost returns, nudging the two of you with his knee. He doesn’t insist on separating you far, though. Just enough to bestow you and Johnny with full glasses of water. You sip in measured doses while Johnny chugs to the bottom in a few noisy mouthfuls.

As he does, you note the awful marks on his hands. Bruised and bloodied knuckles, blisters forming on his palms. Your eyes dart to the wall – sure enough, red stamps like smashed grapes, centered around the wall anchor for the chain. You follow the trail back to his collar, spot the angry skin peaking past. At least there isn’t blood.

Ghost notices too.

“We’ll have to take it off for the night.”

To your surprise, something like reluctance flickers across Johnny’s face. There and gone again, but definitely there. You say nothing; you’d have the same reaction.

Ghost disappears again – this time you hear him rummaging in one of the cabinets. While you and Johnny wait, you exchange chaste, gentle kisses while you burrow into his side.

He returns with a first-aid kit. You’re surprised when offers you a roll of bandages. “A hand for each of us.”

You hum in agreement, get to work dabbing the split skin with antibacterial.

“Can I jus’ ask why, Ghost?”

Ghost doesn’t even glance up. “Why what, pup?”

“Why take it out on Kit? Why not just give me a thrashing and call it a day?”

You frown. Don’t like this line of questioning, or the guilt still staining his words. But Ghost answers without hesitation.

“Because you told me, yeah? Your worst fear is the kitty suffering for you again,” he explains. “No better way to punish you.”

That’s no shock to you; the sentiment is mutual. It’s been damn near written on both your faces since you woke up here, and Ghost isn’t a stupid man. He had you made long before then, you’re sure.

But Johnny’s sudden silence strikes you like a cord out of key. No mutters of annoyance or even snarky comebacks this time. Just a silence that drags your gaze from the careful winding of gauze.

He’s not looking at you, though. He’s staring at Ghost, abject horror graying his skin.

“Riley?”

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

[king-craftsman]

Finding Your Purpose

"Is this really supposed to work?"

The last thing Brandon wanted was to go to therapy, let alone some weird hypnotherapy thing. But the hypnotherapist, Dr. Carson, told him that he should see it as a way to improve his behaviour and stop smoking. He forced a laugh when he heard that but really he didn't think it would work and even if it did, so what?

It wasn't like it was gonna fix everything in his life. Brandon was in his thirties. He barely had any highschool friends left over and his college buddies moved on to bigger and better things while he was languishing away in his hometown, stuck in a dead-end job working for his uncle's construction company.

Right now he felt useless, like he wanted to find some sort of purpose and that's where the therapist came in.

"It is...just relax now and think of...your purpose. What do you really want to do with your purpose?"

"My purpose...?" Brandon blinked as he realised that he kept focusing on the watch. Watching the watch, as the hypnotherapist kept repeating as he kept focusing on it. There was no way this would work. He kept telling himself that, but Brandon wasn't sure he was believing it as the watch went...

Back and forth...

Back and forth...

Back and forth...

He couldn't help but watch the watch as he tried his best to focus, but all he could do was watch the watch and the more he watched the watch the more harder he got and the harder he got, the more he could just watch the watch.

"Yeah your purpose, you see my last client found himself suited for his purpose. Maybe you need a purpose..."

"Purpose..." Brandon didn't realise it but he was starting to drool. He thought he could tear his eyes away from the watch but now he couldn't as he was growing harder. "S-Stop..."

"What's there to stop? You see Brandon I think you want a purpose...whether it be a shoe shiner...or something else..." The hypnotist began to move backwards with the watch. Like a dog Brandon followed it, as if it were a ball or treat being waved in front of him before the hypnotist moved to his desk.

Suddenly Brandon blinked, almost breaking out the trance as he saw the hypnotist place two large feet on the desk. He may have been able to break out the trance, if it wasn't for the pungent scent of musk wafting over.

"Wha..." "Relax Brandon, like I said you want a purpose...whether a shoe shiner...or something more...personal."

Brandon felt numb as the words drilled into his mind, shoe, personal, relax, watch the watch, harder, all of it reverberated around his head.

Watch the watch...

Watch the foot...

The stinking...massive...meaty foot...

And suddenly Brandon felt that he was getting closer. He was never into guys. Never into feet. Everything in his mind was telling him not to but he just couldn't resist it, the more he watched the man. He didn't know if he was saying anything else but he dove forward and suddenly his nose was all up in the feet, taking deep breaths as he smiled and moaned, beginning to lick and worship.

Only the more he did, the more he began to feel himself wish to get closer to the feet, wanting to have his hands wrap around them as he continued to make the man moan and bite his lips from the way he serviced them. It was like his every touch, every kiss, every lick was an echo of pleasure travelling through the feet and getting closer and closer each time he did so.

"That's it...you're finding your purpose...shoe shiner...foot worshipper...shoe..."

Shoe...

As that was echoed around his mind Brandon could feel himself starting to grow weaker. It was harder to pull away from the feet as the last dregs of resistance were leaking out of his cock. The last sum of his effort was to try and pull away but his hands had already began changing, fingers thickening, darkening all morphing together like one viscous black puddle of leather.

All he could smell was musk and leather as he continued to find his body flattening itself against his feet. His cock was growing flatter as he imagined how good it would feel for the foot to push against it as his hands continued to wrap around the feet.

Both hands had their own foot, each one forming the thick leather that would was shining as if it had just been polished.

"P-Pleammmmph-" Brandon begged, unsure if he was begging for this to stop or if he was secretly begging for more. His hypnotist laughed like it was the latter, pushing more against him as Brandon felt his body continue to compress. Each part of him was alight with sensitivity like every stretch of skin, every stitch of leather he was becoming, every iota was an erogenous zone as sensitive as his cock, his nipples, his ass.

It felt like that as his body twisted and warped, starting to somehow split apart into two.

F-Fuck what's happening to me?!

Brandon could still think, could still comprehend everything happening to him as his body had somehow turned into nothing more than leather, thick shiny, well-crafted leather that felt good to the touch and suddenly started to feel filled with something. It was as if there was something, like a cock filling his ass, as the feet were practically sucked into the leathery material he was shrinking into.

The toes wriggled in the shoes making Brandon moan with pleasure as he felt an orgasm rush through his newfound body.

P-please stop this!

But then Brandon felt the next part of the transformation. The feet on his cock and his face, the sensation of them pressing down gently upon them both, soles rubbing his length, that hypnotically pleasurable musk forever wafting in front of his nose. His face and cock had become the very insoles of the new designer dress shoes that he had become as the last of his body shrank around the feet and wrapped around them like they were giving the feet of the hypnotherapist a massage.

"Stop? Oh no no, you see Brandon you wanted a purpose and I gave you one...as my shoes."

No! No I never signed up for this! No turn me back right noohhhhhhhhh-

"Shhh shh, there there Brandon..." The hypnotherapist said as he began to lace the shiny shoes up. "You'll be a nice pair of shiny shoes and just perfect...hypnotically shiny enough for me to wave in front of my next client. Isn't that right Brandon?" But all Brandon could do was moan as he was laced up, tighter as the world felt like he was coming again and again and again. All because he had his purpose and he was sure the hypnotherapist would help anyone, including you, find theirs too.

For a whole library of hot stories like this, be sure to check out The Craftsman on Patreon.

[tmnt-obsessed]

Knight in Shining Red Armour | Bay!Raphael x Fem!Reader

Jay is Reader's recent toxic ex who just can't seem to let her go, and Raph isn't very impressed :)) Also not proof read. Enjoy lovelies!

Warning: Mental, verbal, and physical abuse from a partner, stalking, threatening with knife

~

You couldn't handle Jay's behavior any longer.

You gave him plenty of chances to change, to become the man you remembered being in love with. Of course, it never happened. His behavior continued to take a turn for the worse.

Slowly over the two years you'd been with him he morphed into someone who quite frankly terrified you.

At first the concerning behavior was so small; it wasn't even a concern yet. Frequently taking peeks at your phone when he thought you wouldn't notice, or asking where you were randomly throughout the day. At first these were easily brushed off. You glanced at his phone occasionally too out of pure curiosity, and you also thought about he throughout your day.

Of course, that was just the beginning. Over time he slowly became more... scary, but you were so blind to it. He began trying to control you, subtly of course. Suggesting which jewelry, you should wear and evening telling you your shoes didn't look good so you should wear the one's he liked. He'd order for you in restaurants, but it was never what you wanted, and he wouldn't let you ask for it to be changed. You thought that he just wanted you to look your best and be a gentleman that ordered for his woman. Oh, how wrong you were, it should have been your wake-up call.

The worst mistake you made was moving in with him six months ago. He completely changed after that.

You thought Raph had a temper, but Jay's was so much worse. He'd get mad over the smallest things, and once he was it was honestly terrifying. He'd break just about everything in his path -everything that wasn't his of course- and at the end it was pretty much your job to clean up. Since, "If you hadn't made me mad, I wouldn't have done it in the first place."

He didn't want you leaving the house without him unless it was for work. Of course, he didn't know about the boys, so it was one of your main reasons for your fights. On top of that, he refused to let any of your family or friends over. He wouldn't even let you have an apartment warming.

Despite all that he'd never lay a hand on you so you thought perhaps it was fixable. Which led you to telling Jay it was therapy or you were leaving. You made him do his own therapy and on top of it, couples therapy for the two of you.

The next big mistake you made was ignoring the sweet therapist when she was really trying to be a girl's girl and get you to run from him as fast as you could. Of course, she didn't say it like that but it's what she meant. Why you ignored it you don't know, especially since at this time your feelings for Jay were fading fast while your feelings for a certain red loving ninja were growing fast.

And just a few weeks ago Jay had done the absolute unthinkable. Something that had opened your eyes and forced you to end the relationship.

You had once again got into a screaming match when you tried to leave without him to see the boys in the guise of spending time April at a club. It wasn't anything new, but you felt bad for the poor neighbors who surely could hear and had to endure it.

Then he'd done it. He slapped you across the face, and hard. He held back nothing. You were stunned and almost immediately you started to cry. Turning to leave, but he had stopped you trying to apologize.

When you weren't having it and told him the relationship was over and to let you go his rage came back tenfold. He had started beating you furiously, he had almost killed you choking you out.

In fact, if it hadn't been for your burly, retired veteran neighbor who had literally broken down your door when he heard your cries for help, you honestly might have died then.

You couldn't be more grateful for him and remember him dragging Jay off you as if he were a ragdoll and giving him a good few sucker punches to the face, all while your other neighbors -a sweet old couple that baked you things occasionally watching in horror. The man covering his wife's eyes as he called 911 and then it was all black from there.

Luckily you hadn't spent too long in the hospital. You had a couple fractured ribs, a broken nose, a broken arm, and were bruised to hell but all things that could heal at home.

When questioned by the police you told the truth and pressed charges, glad to know your boyfriend - ex boyfriend was behind bars and would be charged with attempted murder among other things. Well... would be since your previous mentioned veteran neighbor had broken his nose and put a fracture in his jaw. Satisfying information.

After all that you begged them not to tell the boys the real reason you were in the hospital, to which they agreed and let everyone involved in the case know not to get lose lipped and stick with it being a mugging. Mostly because you feared Jay wouldn't live to see the court date, but also because they would say I told you so. Well probably not, but they would think it. None of your friends liked Jay, but they really didn't like him.

Once you were out you were allowed to go back home which was surprisingly cleaned up. Learning it was from the efforts of your neighbors which warmed your heart. In turn you had ordered out and purchased desserts for all three of them the rest of the week.

The boys had fretted over you since then. Not a single one of them letting you walk to the lair or home alone. You also received text messages from them throughout the day, asking how you were doing and if you were alright. It warmed you heart even if it was becoming slightly annoying. You couldn't be mad though, it showed just how much they cared for you.

Raph himself seemed worse than the others though. He had wanted you to tell him if you were making any late-night runs to the store or even April's place. You thought you might have even seen a glimpse of his red mask on the building across the street when you were looking out the window once. It made you believe that -just maybe-he returned the budding feelings you had for him.

Now though, now you had wished you had texted him that you were making a quick night trip to the store. Wished you had asked if he'd follow you like your knight in shining red armor and make sure you'd be safe. Because no one, not a single person thought it'd be a good idea to tell you that Jay was out on bail.

Of course you'd be his first target. Why wouldn't you be? He had followed you when you left your apartment. He had struck when there wasn't anyone nearby, not even a car driving in the street, before he dragged you into an alleyway.

Which led you to now, terrified and shaking with a knife pressed to your neck. He was saying something, but you couldn't really process it. Just knowing his voice was dripping with hatred.

Your head was running a mile a minute and yet it felt so empty. You were trying to think back on the self-defense training you were forced to go through. The only thing coming to mind was his voice saying, "Find an opening."

He always said that. An opening to run or an opening to attack it didn't matter. "Whatever feels right" he'd said.

Nothing felt right. There was no opening. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. The run-down brick of the building behind you digging into your back and his cold, sharp knife digging into your throat. This was it. You were going to die. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes...

But then- a laugh.

A laugh from a woman and soon a man followed suit with his own laughter, they didn't sound far from the opening of the alleyway. It had Jay swiveling his head to look, his grip loosing on the knife. This was it. This was your opening.

You stomped on his foot as your hand came up to his forearm holding the knife to shove him back. It didn't seem like he was prepared for you to fight back because he stumbled back easily, almost falling on his ass.

~

"Should I attack them, then?"

"You can. Or you can run. Whatever feels right."

"How do I know what 'feels right'."

"Trust me, you'll know what feels right half pint."

~

Raphael was right. You know what feels right immediately. In fact, you were already sprint away, practically tripping over your own two feet as you rounded the corner out of the alley way, before your mind even recognize the flight instinct.

Clumsily rummaging through your bag to find you phone without ever taking your eyes away from the sidewalk. The last thing you wanted was to trip over something or run into something. Especially not when a loud, furious call of your name and the stomping of footsteps catching up to you had your heart freezing.

You grip onto your cell phone once you find it dragging it out.

"h-Hey Google/Siri" Your breath is shaking, and your surprised you even got the words out. More surprised your phone recognized them.

"Call 'Hot Head'!"

"I'm sorry, do you want me to call "Hot Head" mobile?"

"Fucking yes! C-call him please you fucking-!" Your heart drops when you feel a hand swipe your back, forcing your legs to work overtime to get you the fuck away from him. Sobbing with just how close he had gotten to grabbing you.

"Got it. Calling 'Hot Head' mobile." You could strangle technology sometimes you swear. You're literally fighting for your life and she's over here taking her sweet ass time.

Each ring has your stomach dropping, and the next swipe against your back has your heart in your throat making you realize you had to try something else.

Suddenly changing direction into an alleyway that has Jay slipping to follow you. Throwing trash cans, and other small items close enough that will hopefully slow him down.

Your body feeling instant relief when you finally hear that gruff, deep accented voice.

"Hey short pint, miss me already?" He sounds cocky with his mild flirt, but you could quickly feel his shift to concern. You haven't even spoken a word, but you knew he could hear your heavy breaths and it didn't help that a sob is quick to escape you shortly after he spoke.

"What's wrong?" You could hear him shuffle -likely standing up- along with the concerned voices of his brothers. "Is she hurt?! OH MY GOD IS SHE DYING?!?!-" You can hear him grunt as he likely shoves his hand in Mikey's face to push him away, effectively cutting him off. Usually it'd make you laugh, but not now.

"R-Raph please! I-I- he's going to kill me t-this time! I- I can't- he-"

"Slow down Princess, where are ya?" It seemed like he a plethora of other questions on the tip of his tongue, but he's a man that can prioritize.

You try to think your mind hazy. Trying to look at the signs as you run. "I-I'm on Madison a-avenue! i-I'll head towards central park but-"

Your scream when Jay actually grabs ahold of your hoodie, dragging you back towards him. You start fighting against him, and screaming as loud as you possibly can. Trying to take your hoodie off without dropping your phone.

Him waving his knife around in a threatening way has you ditching your phone and your hoodie, barely getting your cast through your sleeve and scrambling to get away yet again. Heart clenching with the worried voices and words of the brothers that are quickly fading the faster you run away.

Without his voice you feel as if there is no hope for you now but no, you just have to head for the park. You told him that you would. He is coming for you; you know he is. You know he'd never let anything bad happen to you if he could stop it, and he's on his way to stop it now. You just have to hold out a little longer.

You keep telling yourself that. A little longer. Just a little longer.

Before you know it, you're stumbling into central park. You're muscles are numb, your lungs burn and no matter how hard you try you're slowing down. You already weren't fast enough to outrun Jay at your best.

So, you steal your nerves. Whipping around and throwing your hands in the air as a way of surrender.

"Wait! Jay wait, please wait! l-Let's talk about this! a-About us! O-Okay?"

You can't fight him off, not when he has a knife. So maybe you can stall. Maybe somewhere in his twisted, dark heart he does feel something for you. Even if it's just enough to take pity on you.

He scoffs but opens his mouth to speak. It seems that he does.

"Why? You obviously don't love me anymore! After everything I gave you! After everything I've done for you! You were willing to throw it all away for one mistake! I said I was sorry, but you couldn't accept that! I hadn't meant to hit you; you just made me mad! Don't you know how much I love you? If you even loved me, you would have understood that and dropped the charges... but you didn't. I had to get my mother to bail me out because you don't love me!"

You sob, squeezing your eyes shut as your whole body shudders. You can see it now, the clear manipulation. His attempts to gaslight you- even now! Hands shaking as you nod.

"y... you're right. I'm s-s-sorry Jay. I love you- i-I love you so much- I-I'll drop the charges, okay? I... I shouldn't have made you m-mad- It was all my fault a-and I'm s-so- so sorry. Okay?" You didn't mean a damn word. The words only stumbling out of you for your own survival. Hoping this would quell him enough to not want to murder you in cold blood.

It seemed it was working. He slowly lowered his knife as your words processed in his mind. The hatred from his face leaving and being replaced with love.

No, not love. Pride. He felt proud and it made you sick to your stomach. It made you realize he never loved you; he was just proud with himself whenever he got his way when it came to you. When he couldn't get his way when it came to you, that's when he got mad.

You tremble as he opens his arms, his voice inviting you to come over for a hug to make up.

You don't want to. You don't want to be anywhere near him, in fact the space between you now isn't nearly enough for your liking. You're afraid you'll have too though. To keep this rouse up, making hesitant steps toward him.

You find you don't have to. In fact, you can't, it's a physical impossibility to get anywhere near him. Not with the wall of scutes in front of you. Crying with relief from that bright flash of Red you see at the top of the ginormous shell.

There his is. Raphael in all his glory. Your knight in shining red armor. You feel like you can breathe, you feel like years of stress is just melting away. The sob that hit you as your legs wobble and straight up give out. You're safe, finally. You're alive and will continue to be as such.

You expect to hit the ground when your legs give way, but somehow are not very surprised to be caught. Turning to look up at the terrapin in purple.

"(Y/n)? Are you alright?" He's pulling his goggles down before you can even respond. You just know he's already using that thing to scan you and make sure.

"y-Yeah I-" You honestly don't know what to say. You feel so overwhelmed now that it's over. Everything feels so distant and foggy. As if you're having an out of body experience in a dream.

Although a scream is all it takes to pull you right back down to Earth and in your body it seems. Look over to see the absolute fury on Raphael's face.

He had one of Jay's arms in his hand, making it look far smaller than it actually should be; although that was hardly the problem as it was definitely misshapen. Leo and Mikey trying to pull him back, trying to get him to just "Stop!" and "Think for a moment Raphael!"

Your body moves before your brain has a chance to think about it. Waltz right up and placing one of your much smaller hands on his gripping Jay's wrist, the other naturally landing on the forearm of his same arm.

"R-Raph please. i-It's not worth it."

His beautiful green eyes dart to yours, his expression immediately softening from a look of pure rage - dare you say even murderous. Eyes swimming with conflict as he looks back towards Jay. Trying to keep his resolve to tear him to shreds.

"Raphael please. He's not worth it. Please just... just carry me home. Please."

His full name has his whole head snapping to you. His resolve fleeting faster than it ever has before as he reluctantly lets go of Jay's arm. Letting him drop to the ground as he shakes his brothers off who seem relieved.

"Looks like ya've been saved by the bell, bitch. Don't let me catch sight of ya anywhere near (Y/n), ya hear? Or next time there won't be any bell that can save ya."

He huffs before he's turning towards you. Any leftover aggression completely gone as he bends over and scoops you right up off the ground and snug against his chest bride style.

Ignoring the full-on rant Donnie starts up about possible injuries and how he should be more careful lifting you after an event like that.

"You're fine, aren't you Princess?"

He's looking down at you, practically whispering the words. You can just tell Donnie's nagging got under his skin. He looks a bit concerned even if he won't let his show through his whispered breath.

"I'm fine.. now that you're here. My knight in shining red armor."

The dark green that spreads across his face is satisfying; his gaze that flickers away from yours is far more satisfying.

Yes, you would always be fine as long as you had your knight in shining red armor.

~

Should this have a part two? I feel like this should have a part two..

[nadinescholtes]

Hi, big fan here. I love your Laia series so much and am planning on checking out your cool uncle series it looks just as adorable. But I have a question

What would Laia's reaction to meeting Ruin, Nexus, and Dark Sun would be?

I have had that thought bouncing around in my head for several days now and I NEED to know.

Also, when does Laia enter their lives in your au? Is it after or before Nexus' turn to the dark side and death?

Hi, thank you!

She would appear after Nexus and every other future villain of Sun and Moon Show. It would be like Sun fighting and surviving and finally getting his girlfriend, lol.

But their new "villain" would be the humans, fighting for their rights, maybe? Nothing big. Fazbear treats them ok, as long the animatronics make money for them, but they don't want the title "property" over their heads.

If she was there when those three were still around. Of course, she would be very protective of the family. But she would also try to understand the villains. She wouldn't try to kill until it was really the last resort.

Dark Sun: until now he is a mystery to her but doesn't trust him.

Ruin:...throws 5000 slippers at him.

Nexus: this is going to be a long one, and my goal is a happy end. I try to keep it short.

Laia would be confused as to why Nexus became like that and would do what she is good at, watch movies, and critique them. She did that for years in the shop in her free time. So she watches the videos to see what went wrong. Having a new perspective on the situation.

She would see that the family isn't fully innocent. Their relationship with Nexus was unhealthy from the beginning and became worse with time and the death of Solar was the breaking point.

They did treat him like a nice version of Moon, not a completely different individual. I know it was unintended because of the same face, voice, and name. They should have seen what they were doing, giving him time, helping him find his own personality, altering his appearance, and giving him a new name if he wished. Nexus was talking about his issues, and they should have listened but they were dismissive. Grief can do a lot of damage.

But also Nexus should have just left, he had the knowledge and the resources. He could have just left this toxic relationship, it wasn't healthy to stay because the others didn't change their ways of how they treated him. If he had left they would have gotten a breather and kept the contact minimal until they figure themselves out.

And she would be super mad at Monty because they could have brought back old Moon any time.

Nexus became so resentful he didn't know what to do with those feelings, he didn't know why it became like that because he had new excuses every time they met, why he became evil. He chooses to use a power to feel strong and be in control but is killing him slowly.

This would remind her of one of her previous owners. Who lost control of the business and started drinking and doing other substances, which were harming them. In the end, they lost all.

She would find a way to be with Nexus alone, maybe with the help of Solar or Monty, because she knows he can't be in a room with any of his ex-friends and family without fighting. She would be scared but she knew the chance of being killed by Nexus would be minimal because every chance he got to kill, he would hesitate and keep talking and talking.

So she does that, talk. She would be someone new to talk to, someone who didn't have a past with him or Moon. Also, she understands him at some points, she wasn't her own person for a long time from day one, and she didn't have control until someone helped her.

He would threaten to kill her and her response would be: "And I could kick you in the bolts, yet here we are."

Or he would accuse her of trying to play the therapist. Her response: I know Jack sh*t about therapy. Do you want to talk or not?

If he stayed, she would say she saw how his ex-family and friends have been treating him, that it wasn't healthy from the beginning. And can't believe how fast they gave up on him, their own brother! Even Killcode who actually killed people and made their lives hell was forgiven and left alone.

She would ask him what he would have done on the first day he was "born", what person he would have liked to be, and what his life could have looked like, if he wasn't treated as the "new, nice Moon".

Maybe he would tell her. maybe not. But if he does, she would ask him, what is stopping him from living that life right now? He wants control? Go leave, start somewhere fresh, a new dimension, and go No-contact with everyone. She would tell everyone to go No-contact as well.

Yes, he left but he keeps coming back, harassing and threatening his ex-friends and family, which is not truly leaving, it's not being in control. He lets the resentment that was created by that toxic relationship control him and be bound to them and even if he kills them all, he wouldn't get that control back. Their death would not be him leaving them but them leaving him and he would never be able to change that, carry this for the rest of his life.

And those powers don't make anything better, they just make him feel like he is in control but he actually isn't. It's slowly killing him like a drug and not giving him what he wants.

He might say, that he doesn't care what happens to him. She would call him out, if he truly doesn't care about himself then he would still play the role of the "new, nice Moon" and not fight. Do what you couldn't back then, leave!

He might say, you can't tell me what to do. Laia would say, she doesn't, she just is giving advice to a person who is hurting. He can take it or not, it's his choice. But the next time she sees him and starts his crap again, she would fight him. And don't think the family would go unpunished. She would not go on eggshells and have a serious word with them and make sure they'll make up for him one day.

Now here it would be Nexus' choice of what to do.

I don't write fanfiction only scripts, lol. Usually, I would think and write on my stories for weeks until it's fleshed out and make sense. But this is just an idea of how it could go with Nexus. I hope it wasn't too much.

Part2

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-Twenty Four

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: Did y'all bring your umbrellas and washcloths? Cause it gets a bit messy in this.

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

🪽🔮

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses @iamamatus

NOAH

“So are you saying there’s a new Bad Omens music video on the horizon?” 

With a trick smile, I adjusted my position in the chair and shrugged to the camera on my computer. “Uh, yeah. I can’t tell you which one but it’ll be out there soon.” 

The group of people who were interviewing me via Zoom cheered until one of them asked the next question. It went like this for a few more minutes and I did my best to pay attention and not reach for my phone. Tonight was important and even with how poised and professional I looked during the interview, my knee was bouncing under my desk with nerves. Everything had been planned down to the last detail, Michael giving me shit for stressing out about nothing. 

“It’s Y/N, you know she’d be fine with just an easel and new paints,” he chuckled while watching me set up Y/N’s studio. 

I paused setting up the plants on a shelf to turn towards him. “I know. But she deserves this; all of this. She needs a place to escape by herself for a little while.” 

“You have to relax,” Michael rested his hands on my shoulders, looking directly into my eyes. “You need to enjoy the new beginnings of your relationship. You and Y/N love each other, that’s what matters. Not how many plants she has.” 

Shaking my head from the earlier memory, I hummed towards the interviewer. “I’m sorry, what was the question?” 

She chuckled. “We’ve seen some growth vocally on this new record from the last. Can you give us a little insight on that?” 

With a nod, I divulged how I recently started working with a vocal coach who helped bring out this side of me that I had always hidden under a veil of self-doubt and insecurities. 

Suddenly my phone buzzed on the desk and I quickly peered down at it, my heart jumping into my throat. 

Angel 🪽: I’m walking out of therapy right now, I’ll be home and ready to go in an hour! 

While the interviewers chatted amongst themselves briefly, I typed out a fast response before taking a long drink of my coffee. 

Me: No rush, angel. We have all night. I should be finishing up this interview soon. 

Another question and another answer. It went on like this for a few minutes until I noticed another text from Y/N. 

Angel 🪽: You already got coffee?🥺 

My heart dropped when I saw that emoji because I could vividly picture her soft lips in a pout just like it. Her bright eyes wide. 

Me: Don’t do that, you know I can’t resist that face you pull.  Jolly brought it from Fika. Astrid made an extra by mistake. We can swing by and get you one.

Thankfully, my hands were just off camera so no one who was watching would be able to see my texting. 

Wait. 

Me: Wait, are you watching? You little sneak.

Deciding to give my attention back to the interview, I finished it within the next thirty minutes and thanked them with a wide smile before clicking out of Zoom. Standing up from the desk in the studio, I read Y/N’s message as I trotted down the stairs toward my bedroom. 

Angel 🪽: Of course, I’m watching. I watch all of your interviews. I also love teasing you. I already stopped by Fika after therapy. I will say that I’m excited about what you have planned for later. 

Veering left instead of right, I stepped inside Y/N’s art studio and stood in the middle of the room, assessing every inch of it to make sure it was absolutely perfect. The memory of earlier today stumbling inside with both arms full of bags that contained a variety of different paint and drawing supplies. The guys merely smirked as they saw me struggling even having a bag hanging from my teeth before I motioned to the outside with my head and mumbled two words. 

Help. Car.

The studio was perfect and spotless when I made sure that everything was where it needed to be. As I headed across the hall into my bedroom to finish getting ready, I sent a text to Y/N; one she responded to almost immediately. 

Me: I can’t wait. I love you.

Angel 🪽: I love you too, mochi. 

READER

“Oh my god, I’m stuffed. I can’t eat another bite,” I groaned while stepping out of Noah’s car as he held the door open for me. 

“Greek was a good choice, huh?” He chuckled as he walked around the car towards me; a little bell jingling behind him. 

I looped my arm through his and rested my head against his shoulder. “You know I’d never turn down a chance for Greek food.” 

“I never thought I’d be such a fan of it. I’ve always thought it was just gyros. The spinakorprita was good.” 

I stifled my laugh into his bicep. “It’s spanakopita.” 

“Spa-na-ko-pi-ta.” 

Noah sounded out slowly and I kissed his shoulder. “Good job! Pretty soon I’ll have you fluent in Greek and we can visit Greece.” 

He brushed a kiss along my forehead and I peered down at the feline that rubbed his face along Noah’s leg. 

“Are you sure he’s okay on the harness?” I bit my lip. “He can’t slip out of it?” 

“Salem is fine, angel. He loves this thing. You should have seen him running through the grass when I had him a couple of months ago.” 

To reassure me worries, however, Noah picked up Salem to hold him against his chest, our cat purring loudly as I pressed a kiss on his head. 

“Thank you for letting me bring him. I figured it would be good to get him acclimated here in case you have to watch him for me,” I said as we began walking up towards the house. 

“I’ve been wanting to show him the new cat tree I bought him,” Noah smiled. 

When we came to a stop at his front door I untangled myself from him and then reached inside my purse for my camera. 

“Angel,” he started. 

Waving him off, I backed away a few feet and motioned to him to stay there. “Just one picture in front of the house. You look so cute tonight. Plus, I need a picture of my boys.” 

Even with the dim street light but the bright glow of the moon, I saw the red hue cover Noah’s cheeks with my compliment, and eventually, threw up his trademark peace sign with one hand and continued to hold Salem in the other. 

Snapping a few different poses, I pocketed the Polaroids after they printed and skipped back toward Noah, who had opened the front door and allowed me to step inside the quiet house. 

“Where is everyone?” I wondered. 

Noah hung up his keys on the hook next to the front door. “Movies. The local theater is playing the old Japanese version of Godzilla.” 

“You turned that down?” I asked with wide eyes. “You love old Japanese movies.” 

“No place I’d rather be than right here, with you,” he mused while wrapping his arms around me to place a chaste kiss on my lips. 

“How sweet,” I cooed while patting his chest. 

Noah let Salem off the harness so he could explore the house, he immediately found the cat tree and curled up in the top bed part. 

Something was bothering Noah, however, no matter how bright he smiled. I could sense it in the way he kept fidgeting with his hands during dinner to how often he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel on the way back to his house. 

“What’s on your mind?” I questioned while palming his cheek. 

He left a kiss on the inside of my palm. “I want to show you something.” 

“You do?” My heart fluttered. 

Linking our fingers together, Noah led me down the hallway towards his room, but we veered left instead to stop in front of a closed door. With our hands on his chest, I felt the rapid beat of his heart and let out a low laugh. 

“Mochi, your heart is racing,” I said. 

He nodded. “I’ve been working on something the last few months since I’ve moved in trying to make it perfect. I think I’ve annoyed both my roommates and yours.” 

“Chase and Malcolm know about this?” I questioned. 

“Yeah. They sent me some of the products you use, your favorite brands; things like that. I wanted to make sure that you don’t have to worry about lugging things back and forth,” Noah shifted on his feet. 

“Okay, what is it?” I bounced on my heels with excitement. “You’ve already surprised me with the vanity. What do you have hiding behind that door? 

I gasped. “Is it a puppy?! No, wait. That wouldn’t make sense.” 

Noah chuckled while cupping my face to leave a kiss on my forehead. “No puppy. Maybe down the road.” 

“Well, will you show me already? I’m getting antsy!” I patted his chest before messing with his chain between my fingers. 

I still wore my matching set, never taking them off. 

“Close your eyes,” he ordered. 

With a pout, I tried to get out of doing it but instead, Noah covered my vision with his large hand. Feeling his presence behind me, I heard the door click open and he led me inside the room. The hand over my eyes shook so I grazed my fingers over the back of it, letting him know that he didn’t have to be nervous. 

“I want to make sure you love it, angel,” Noah pressed a kiss behind my ear. “OK. Are you ready?” 

“Yes!” I exclaimed. 

Blinking a few times to adjust to the light, a hand went to my mouth as a gasp fell from my lips. It was overwhelming and almost too many different things to take in, I didn’t know where to look first. 

There were four different-sized easels in each corner of the room. 

An angled desk in front of the large window, one that people would use to draw on. 

Three shelves above that desk held various paints, brushes, and charcoals. 

Plants littered almost every inch of space that wasn't overtaken with painting supplies. 

The closet in the room was wide open, showcasing even more stock of supplies and different size canvases. 

The best part? Hardwood floors. 

With tears in my eyes, I slowly turned back to Noah, standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back. 

“So?” 

“I-,” I cleared my throat when the words came out jumbled. “You did this?” 

“Yeah. I wanted to give you your own space here. To come too whenever you wanted, even if I wasn’t home,” he wrung his hands together. 

“Really?” I choked out. “Don’t you think you should maybe check with the guys about having me come over here all the time unannounced?” 

“Angel,” he took a step towards me and grabbed my hands, his thumb brushing mine. “Jesse was the one that suggested I give you a key.” 

My eyes doubled. “A key?” 

Noah now dug into his pocket to pull out a black key, gently setting it in my open palm. “I want you to have a place to come and stay. I’m not asking you to move completely in, but if it's getting a little stuffy in that small apartment with Chase and Malcolm, you and Salem can come to spend the night here.” 

I let out a small chuckle, a few tears falling from my eyes, and then held the key close to my chest. “You gave me all of this but I have nothing in return, Noah.” 

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and mused. “Your love is enough, Y/N.” 

“I love you. Thank you for all of this.” I pressed my head against his chest while wrapping my arms around him. 

“I love you too.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now, welcome to the other part of our first date.” 

I gazed up at him through lashes. “We’re going to paint?” 

“Now, I’m not a professional like you,” he snorted before pulling me over to two easels that were next to each other. “But I thought it would be a cute idea.” 

“I would not call myself a professional.” 

“Still better than me,” Noah said. 

I raised a playful brow while crossing my arms over my chest. “Want to make this interesting?” 

He smirked while resting his hands on my hips. “I’m all ears, angel.” 

“Whoever has the worst painting has to get the winner's birthday tattooed on them.” 

“Oh, it’s a bet,” he sealed it with a kiss. 

Noah pulled out the little stool for me to which I sat with a smile, pulling up the ends of my yellow maxi skirt to sit comfortably. While Noah busied himself with setting up music to play from the Bluetooth speaker, I removed my jacket to set it neatly on the ground at my feet. 

“Do you want an old shirt of mine to change into?” He asked while pointing to my white top. 

I noticed that Noah had shed his gray button-up and was wearing a blank tank top. I licked my lips at the site of his muscles, the tattoos suddenly seeming more fitting now that he had been working out a lot more. 

Remind me to thank Ash. 

Snapping my eyes away from the broadness of his chest, I shook my head. “I’ll be fine, mochi. Thank you though. I don't typically make a mess.” 

“Hm, the paint stains on the dining room carpet say otherwise,” he teased. 

Playfully smacking Noah’s arm, we both got settled as the music filtered into the air and I got lost in my mind, painting whatever my soul called for. We found ourselves in a peaceful quiet, simply enjoying each other's presence. Every so often I would glance over to Noah, making sure that he was enjoying himself only because I knew painting wasn't for everyone. 

He had narrowed eyes of precision as he stroked the brush wave after wave against the canvas. From this angle, I couldn’t see what he was painting. Instead, I leaned over to rummage in my purse, pulled out my Polaroid camera, and snapped a few shots of Noah before one of me, with him in the background. I set the pictures on the desk next to me before getting back to my painting. 

“How’s it going over there?” 

Noah’s soothing voice brought me out of my trance and I glanced over at him with a smile. “Good, I’m almost finished. What about you?” 

“Promise you won't laugh?” 

“Of course, mochi.” 

I made a show of crossing my heart but let out a squeal of laughter when Noah hooked his foot around the foot of the stool and dragged me over towards him. He gave me a quick kiss but still wouldn’t let me see what he painted. 

“I’ve been told I’m a great artist, granted that was in the second grade,” Noah chuckled before finally showing me his canvas and what he spent the last thirty minutes painting. 

I covered my mouth with a hand not to stifle a gasp but instead a laugh. He painted stick figure versions of him, me, and Salem in front of a house; even with the bright yellow sun in the corner of the canvas. 

“Wow,” I nodded. “All I’ll have to say is don’t quit your day job, mochi.” 

Noah scoffed. “Fuck, that was cold. But it's true. There’s a reason why I’m a musician, not a painter. I’ll leave that to you, angel.” 

“I love it!” I beamed while ruffling his hair and laying a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’ll hang it up above my bed.” 

“What did you paint?” He wondered. 

“Oh nothing too important, just some abstract colors. I didn’t really have an actual vision. I kind of let the paint speak to me as I go,” I said. 

When I showed him my painting, Noah’s eyes glinted and he smiled. “I like it. I’ll have to hang this above my bed.” 

“So I think it’s safe to say that I won the bet? And now you have to get my birthday tattooed on you,” I grinned while going about to clean up the paint and brushes. 

When Noah didn’t respond, I glanced over my shoulder to see that he had a very sly smirk playing on his lips and I popped my hip out, resting a hand on it. 

“Noah Sebastian. Did you purposely lose this bet so you could get my birthday tattooed?” 

He hummed along to the song playing on the speaker, still not answering my question but never getting rid of that smirk on his face. His silence, however, was exactly the answer I needed. 

What a cheeky little...

With the dirty paintbrush in my hand, I flicked it over at Noah, the leftover paint spraying over his chest when he turned towards me. His eyes bounced down to the paint splatter over his black tank top to me, a shocked expression on his face. 

“Did you just throw paint on me?” 

I shrugged. “Oops?”

“Really? Oops?” Noah dipped a larger paintbrush into a handful of different colors before throwing it all over my face and neck. 

“NOAH!” I screeched with a boisterous laugh. 

Suddenly, he picked me up to twirl me in the air before tackling me onto the ground then started painting my arms and neck as I found underneath him. 

“I’m sorry!” I giggled while trying to reach for the paintbrush I dropped; fingertips grasping at it. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m busy painting a masterpiece,” Noah responded, painting shapes on my cheek now. 

With my fingers finally grasping the brush, I flicked some paint into his hair, covering it in bright pinks, blues, and yellows. Our peals of laughter overpowered the music still playing in the room and eventually, after we both were covered in pain, I threw up my hands in surrender. 

“OK!” I chuckled breathlessly. “You win. You win.” 

Noah kissed me, smearing the paint over my lips. “Damn straight I do.” 

Somehow in the shuffle of our paint fight, I managed to straddle Noah, who lost his tank top; it was destroyed due to all the paint. So he lay shirtless underneath me and I couldn’t help but bite my lip at the sight of him with his arm propping his head up and his tattoos on full display for only me to devour. 

Reaching up towards my easel, I grabbed a few different paints and clean brushes before settling back on Noah’s hips, getting to work on painting the flowers of his chest piece. 

He hummed at the feeling of the cool brush and let his eyes flutter shut for a long moment, reveling in the feeling of me on top of him. And not in a sexual way but in a way of knowing that I was here and not going anywhere. 

“Am I an adult coloring book for you?” Noah questioned after he took a few Polaroid pictures of me painting him.

“Maybe,” I teased with a glance down at his face. 

His chest was a vibrant picture of greens, reds, and oranges. I was working on painting the headband in the girl's hair when he spoke again. 

“Well don’t stop, I like this form of meditation.”

Once the round frame was painted gold, I adjusted my position so I could sign my name just above the words across his sternum. 

Noah opened one eye and smiled. “I see you signed your work.”

“I did because you’re not it anymore.” I pressed a soft kiss along each letter. 

“I’m not what?” He breathed in pleasure, slightly arching off the ground. 

“You’re no longer desolate,” I promised into his skin then took a couple of Polaroid pictures of my masterpiece. 

Noah let out a soft noise from the back of his throat when his strong hand wrapped around the back of my neck to pull me down to his lips, we met in a fiery, air-bending kiss. Every single fiber of my soul blazed with such passion I melted into his embrace, folding into him as we became one. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip, lapping up the strawberry chapstick I applied in the car earlier, him humming in delight. 

I adjusted myself as I lay flat on Noah, his hands running up and down the skin of my back underneath my shirt. The heat radiated off of him making my insides flare with so much desire that I was practically burning up at his touch. 

“Noah,” I whined when his lips began attacking my neck. 

When he pulled away, his almond eyes gazed up at me with pupils blown wide with lust; pure black over taking his eyes. 

“How about I run you a bath?” His thumb brushed along my bottom lip, voice hoarse from our kiss. 

“I’d like that a lot,” I beamed. 

NOAH

I sat on the edge of the tub to check the temperature of the water making sure it was perfect before adding the bubbles and bath salts. As it began to fill up, I peered through the open bathroom door to gaze over at Y/N who was sitting at her vanity taking off her makeup. My heart swelled in my chest when I noticed how relaxed she was, as if she was meant to be there; here with me. 

Sitting here in observation, it struck me like a bolt of lightning. I’d been so lost in constructing scenarios for tonight that I was surprised to see how far I’d come. Y/N’s movements were so fluid, so serene as she gently wiped everything off her face and neck. I’d never been so jealous of a makeup towelette before. 

Observing her using the vanity table I fussed over for weeks made my stomach flutter, the ongoing moment of quiet bliss was by far my favorite way to let time tick by.

Waiting here offers me time to let my mind escape the boundaries of the ordinary. From where I sat here in the bathroom, watching her carefully with the faintest of smiles, I knew I wanted this view for the rest of my life. After all the bullshit endured on and off over the years, for both of us, this was what I got to see. 

Watching Y/N was such a gift, a blessing of time. Something I vowed right now that I wouldn’t take for granted.

Shaking off the excess water after checking the temp, I turned off the tub and walked into the bedroom with a light spring in my step. I snuck up behind Y/N and rested my chin on top of her head, watching her smile in the reflection of the mirror. 

“Your bath is ready, angel,” I informed. 

She reached for my left hand to lay a gentle kiss on the floral design. “You mean, our bath is ready.” 

I raised a brow at her when she stood and led me into the bathroom with her. 

“Wait, what?” 

Y/N chuckled at the slight confusion in my voice. “You heard me. You’re covered in paint too, Noah. You need to clean up.” 

I rubbed the back of my neck as we stood together in the bathroom. “I was-uh- going to take a shower once you were finished. I don’t want to pressure you into-.” 

“Stop overthinking this,” she cupped both sides of my face and pressed a kiss to my nose. “I want you to join me if you’re comfortable with it.” 

I may have nodded a little too eagerly but it didn't bother her. 

“I’d love that, angel.” 

While she shed her clothes, I stepped out of my pants and briefs, both of us watching each other with such inferno in our eyes and when we were naked, Y/N reached for my hand. She stepped into the tub first then me, positioning myself behind her. Even though it was a larger tub, it was still a snug fit for the both of us so to make sure she had enough room, I kept my long legs bent; my knees breaking the surface of the water. 

“Oh this is perfect,” Y/N groaned while leaning herself into my chest. 

Reaching for her shampoo, I went to work scrubbing the paint out of her hair, my nails scraping along her scalp. Her fingers traced over the rose tattoo on my knee, delicately following the design. 

“What’s on your mind, angel?” I questioned after rinsing out her hair and then applying the conditioner. 

“You’ve really thought about everything, huh? You have all of my products here so I don’t ever have to bring a bag over?” 

The giggle that erupted from her throat made something twinge inside of me. 

I kissed her shoulder. “I’ve already told you. This is your home just as much as your apartment is. We can bounce back and forth as long as you want.” 

Once she was completely clean of the dried paint, Y/N turned to position herself on my lap to face me. The head of my cock brushed along her folds and I grasped at her hips, trying not to let my hormones push her too far. 

“What are you doing?” I asked. 

She smiled and reached for my shampoo. “You washed me. Let me wash you now.” 

Sighing in content, I sat back against the tub to let Y/N wash my hair. Her fingers worked meticulously in scrubbing out the paint. 

“You know,” she shifted herself on me and I choked on a groan. 

Surely she had to know what she was doing. 

“While I love how you look with this new haircut. I really do miss your long hair.” 

I gazed up at her, tracing the drop of water that trailed down her neck, over the silver chain, and between the valley of her breasts that were just peeking above the bubbles. 

I licked my lips, tongue begging to trace the water in its wake, but refrained. 

“Imagine if you gave yourself bangs. You’d be in your Shelby era,” Y/N chucked while moving my hair in a certain way so I could have bangs. 

I glanced over to the mirror above the sink and smirked at the sight of us in the tub, especially me with bangs. 

“You think so?” I asked. 

“You can pull off any look, mochi.” 

She gently went about washing the paint off my chest with the loofah while I continued to watch her. 

“You’re staring,” her eyes flicked up at me. 

“I love you,” I brushed away the wet strands of hair from her face. 

“I love you too,” Y/N kissed the freckles on my shoulder. 

Once again we found ourselves in our previous position, her back to my chest, and we sat there for some time as the water began to chill. Although neither of us was ready to get out yet. 

“Noah?” 

Snapping my eyes open, I wrapped my arms around her. “Yeah?” 

Y/N shifted a bit in my embrace and with how she was wading her fingers through the water, I knew something heavy was on her mind. 

“Do you think we could listen to Bad Decisions?” 

My body stilled behind her. I knew at some point we would have to talk about the songs I wrote when I was in the dark parts of my life but it still didn't prepare me for the moment it happened. 

“Are you sure?” I asked. 

She turned slightly in my arms to leave an array of kisses on my chest. 

“I know you were in a dark place when you wrote it. It holds bad memories so I’d like to create new memories for this song with you if you want to.” 

“I’d want nothing more, Y/N,” I whispered into her hairline. 

After asking the Alexa device on the bathroom counter to play the song, I let my voice echo in the confines of the room. Y/N eased into my embrace as I linked our fingers together while I sang along with the words in a hushed tone. She hummed along with me as our bodies swayed together in the water. 

“No God. No religion. Just you,” I vowed when the song faded out, cupping her cheek so I could kiss her lips. 

Without missing a beat, Y/N returned the kiss just as slowly as I, our tongues lazily fighting for dominance as her hand snaked behind my neck to play with the wet strands of hair. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against my lips. 

Pulling away, I remained holding her face but furrowed my brows. “What are you apologizing for?”

Her gaze left mine. “I just hate that it took us so long to get here. I know we talked about everything at the party but I still feel the need to apologize for everything.” 

“It’s not all on you, angel. I did some things I wasn’t proud of during our time apart and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it.” 

“Stop, Noah,” Y/N straddled me again to hold my chin with a stern grasp, the water sloshing around us. “You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened. I’ve already told you all is forgiven. Please stop letting that moment of weakness eat away at you.” 

I blinked away the burning tears in my eyes and cleared my throat. “I only want to make better memories with you. I know in the beginning I couldn’t communicate, even now it’s a bit hard for me, especially with everything that happened. It was a mess and I apologize too.” 

Y/N bent low to kiss me; it was slow at first but soon became heavy with passion when her tongue slipped between my lips. Her hips began grinding against my cock revving me up with such force, I wrapped my hand around her neck with my thumb against the pulse point in her neck. 

Breaking free from the kiss, I dragged my teeth along her jawline and then down her neck. 

“Noah,” Y/N breathed. “I love you.” 

Her pussy was now brushing over the head of my cock and every inhibition with me wanted to plunge myself deep inside of her, feel her grip me with that vice grip I’ve missed and longed for.

Something inside of my chest rumbled before I realized it was my voice. 

“How many have you loved before me?” I rasped as my tongue brushed over her nipple. 

Y/N arched herself back so she could fully expose herself to me. “None.” 

With one hand holding her throat, my other slipped between our bodies underneath the now-freezing water to glide over the slit between her legs. I attacked her lips again with a ravenous desire, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“And after me?” I demanded to know, slipping a finger inside of her finally. 

“None,” she moaned while digging her nails into the skin of my shoulders. 

Trembling fingers trace Y/N’s skin. To be in her company is a little slice of heaven as if her aura were an elixir. Emotions swam in our eyes, in our body language, and the inflections of her voice. 

She was the one who I thought of when I needed to restart my heart and rekindle my soul; for so long I kept that to myself. Feeling the intensity of her intelligence, Y/N’s words were my medicine.

Deep inside I couldn’t help but feel like I’ve over-explained my feelings to compensate for what hadn’t been said. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t shake the fear of losing her. She needed to know where I stood, where we belonged. 

Soulmates. 

To be a possessor? I don’t know if you’d call it that. I yearned to be her protector, the one who held her heart in my hands, just as she held mine. These large hands are secured. I would grant her any wish in my power, to be the one who will always love her.

My fingers worked in sync as I pumped them in and out of her. She squirmed in my grasp, and the head of my cock nearly slipped inside of her. Every single part of me was sensitive to her touch and it felt like any moment I would combust underneath her. 

Peering up at her face, I noticed that there was worry pulling tight in her forehead. 

“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” I asked briefly, stopping. 

“No, you’re fine,” Y/N reassured me with a kiss on my forehead. “It’s just-.” 

When her words trailed off, I lifted her chin with a knuckle. “Talk to me, angel.” 

Her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “The water is really cold and I was hoping we could move this to the bed.” 

A playful smirk pulled on my lips and just before agreeing, I was struck with a thought. 

“How far do we want to take this?” 

“Noah, I can’t wait anymore. I need this. I need to feel connected to you again,” she rubbed herself against me. 

Shit. 

Even though I was ready for this, something was keeping me from lifting her out of this tub and tossing her on the bed to feel all of her again. The last time we slept together, it ended in disaster and heartbreak. I was stronger than I was back then but I don’t know if I could recover if it were to happen again. 

It won’t. 

It was as if Y/N’s soul could feel the pain in mine because she cupped both sides of my face so I had no choice but to meet her gaze. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Noah. I’m right here. Always.” She reassured me with a firm nod, not an ounce of lies behind her bright eyes. 

I kissed her palm. “I know. Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush.”

“You’re not, Noah. I want this. I need this. I need to be connected to you so deeply, that it feels like we’ll never be apart again.” 

Her hand wrapped around my cock, pumping it up and down under the chilled water. By now the bubbles have dissipated and I peered through the clear water to choke on my moan. 

“We won’t,” I promised. 

Y/N’s warm breath fanned over the shell of my ear. “Please, Noah. I need you to fuck me.” 

READER

I erupted with laughter as Noah dropped my wet body on top of the bed. Resting up on my elbows, I gazed over his naked form as he stood at the foot of the bed. Water traced every bend and groove of his muscles and the tattoos that littered his skin were something that seemed to surprise me each time. 

When my gaze lowered to his cock, a starved moan fell from my lips and I licked them hungrily. 

“Y/N?” 

I hummed while tearing my gaze away from him to look into his eyes. 

“If you feel any pain, please let me know,” he said. 

“I’m okay,” I nodded. “I promise.” 

Noah towered over me as he crawled up the bed, droplets of water falling from his hair onto my chest. His chain hung just above my lips as I looked up at him, spreading my legs when his fingers tickled the inside of my thigh. 

“I want to make love to you tonight, angel. Will you let me?” He asked into the crook of my neck. 

“Please,” I nodded vigorously. 

Once more, Noah’s fingers slipped between my folds to gently tease me, slowly dragging them up and down. I whined in protest and dug my nails into his back, feeling his muscles tense from my touch. When the pad of his calloused finger pressed against my clit, I arched my chest into his, the itch I felt from the moment we were in the tub together finally being scratched. 

My knees buckled when his finger twirled in fast circles and when Noah flicked his tongue over my nipple, before slowly trailing down my stomach. The warm wetness of his tongue flicked over my nub when he replaced his fingers. His lips wrapped around my clit to suck up my arousal. 

“Noah,” I hissed. “So good.” 

I ran my fingers through his hair to bring his mouth closer to me as the coil in my stomach pulled tight. I’d been on edge all night, I knew I wouldn’t last long. And it was like Noah knew or understood because his tongue speared inside of me, in and out, before rubbing against my clit again. 

Stars danced at the edge of my vision, nearly overtaking my gaze when I looked down at Noah between my legs. His face was buried there as if he was meant to be there. I brushed away the hair from his face just for his eyes to meet mine, his tongue darting in and out of me. There was pure darkness in his eyes when his hand ran up my stomach and torso to grasp at the silver chain around my neck. He wrapped it around his fingers, pulling taunt, and I felt the breath leave my lungs briefly. Before I could say anything, Noah loosened the grip but still held onto the chain. 

I raised my hips off the bed to try and get closer to his mouth when his tongue began to slow, fearing that maybe he was getting tired. But I was so close that my body ached with the release it so desperately needed. 

With a tight hold against the back of his head, I tensed my legs and core when he flattened his tongue. Now I rubbed myself against his tongue and my moans echoed throughout the room. I couldn’t even warn him that I was about to cum because my orgasm washed over me without warning. Noah hummed in delight when my arousal coated his lips and chin; it dripped from him and he gathered it up with a finger before sucking it clean himself.

“Fuck,” I panted while running a hand through my hair. “That was-fuck.”

“Watching you cum is addicting, angel,” Noah buzzed with a tender kiss inside of my thigh. 

As my heart rate slowed, I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and let out a deep breath in a way to center myself again. 

“Missionary hurts right?” Noah asked while leaning over me. 

“It depends,” I shrugged. “But if I’m being honest, it’s not my favorite.” 

The smirk that pulled on his lips made me tilt my head at him. However, before I could ask what he had in mind, he swiftly turned me to lay on my stomach and raised my ass in the air. 

“Noah,” I breathed while peering over my shoulder at him. 

Not saying anything, he leaned over towards the nightstand to rummage through it and retrieved a condom. Lust-filled eyes watched as he ripped it open with his teeth and swiftly rolled it over the length of his cock, which was thick and dripping with his arousal. 

“Stay on your knees but if you need to lay your lower half on the bed, do it. I want to make sure you're comfortable,” a gentle kiss in the middle of my back; against the snake tattooed there. 

I positioned a pillow underneath me to give myself some more leverage and comfort while Noah lined his cock up with my entrance. Slowly, much to my dismay, Noah sank himself inside of me inch by inch until he was fully seated inside of me. 

“Shit,” his forehead rested against my shoulder blade. “So tight. I’ve been dreaming of this feeling again, angel.” 

“Me too. Oh fuck.” 

I moaned when Noah pulled himself almost out, pumping just the head of his cock in between my folds. Then with a snap of his hips, his cock stretched me open again and the weight of his body pressed me farther into the pillow. His chest collided with my back every time he thrust into me and his nails dug into my hips to keep himself grounded. For extra measure, I managed to hook my feet around his ankles. 

“I love you,” Noah panted in my ear. 

My smile was buried in the pillow. “I love you too.” 

“Any pain?”

I did my best to shake my head. “Keep going. Please.” 

One hand caressed the grooves of my spine, up and down, while his other wandered around to thrum against my clit again. Noah’s pace was slow but steady, his words from earlier ringing true. 

I want to make love to you. 

I brushed away the hair from my face so I was able to see, noticing our reflection in the large mirror Noah had leaning against the wall next to the closet. A strangled moan crawled out of my throat when I saw the muscles in Noah’s ass clench with every drive into me. I could vividly see his cock every time he pulled out of me, my arousal glistening on the condom, before disappearing inside of me again. 

“I.” 

Thrust. 

“Love.” 

Thrust.

“You.” 

I mewled at Noah’s proclamation in between each of his thrusts. “I love you too, Noah.” 

The slow pace of his cock but the fast pace of his fingers worked in perfect harmony and I felt my second orgasm slowly creeping its way into my veins. The heat spread like wildfire inside of me with such intensity I began to shake underneath Noah. 

“I love you, angel,” he proclaimed again then bit down on the sensitive part of the skin at the back of my neck. 

I was gone, blissed out in sheer ecstasy that my words were muffled against the pillow. That wasn’t good enough for Noah so he turned my cheek so I could face him. 

“I love you too,” I huffed when my orgasm was seconds away from bursting. 

He linked our hands together as he continued to meld with me from behind and I noticed that the hands that were linked were the ones that both had our bracelets. It was almost a good omen, no pun intended, that our souls were always destined to be one. For added measure, I felt the coolness of his necklace brush along the heated skin of my back. 

Noah lightly laughed, almost as if he thought the same, and when his cock twitched inside of me, I realized he was close. I wanted to watch him when he fell apart because of me so I glanced back over to our reflection in the mirror. Then with two fingers pressed against my clit, Noah began rubbing up and down which was exactly what I needed for the coil to snap. To finally teeter over the edge where ecstasy was waiting for me. 

His name fell from my lips in prayer. 

“Fuck, Noah. Oh God, it’s so good,” I cried out through the rest of my orgasm. 

“No God. Just us,” he grunted. 

There was no God; only him and I. 

In the reflection, I watched as his movement stilled, cock throbbing between my walls, and his mouth fell open when he tilted his head back; groaning out his release. Then softly, Noah’s body fell onto mine and he buried his face in my neck. 

“Are you okay?” He wondered. 

“I’m good, mochi. So fucking good,” I lazily smiled but whimpered when he pulled out of me. 

“Let me get you a washcloth,” he left a kiss on my shoulder before slipping into the bathroom. 

I snuggled closer into the pillow on my chest to let my eyes rest for a moment. Exhaustion dug itself so deep within my bones that I didn’t even notice when Noah began cleaning me up with the damp but warm cloth then he draped the blanket over my naked form. 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed or noticed he left until the bed dipped beside me and I opened one eye to stare up at him. Noah kissed me from between my shoulder blades down my back, his nails grazing beyond the wake of his lips as he traced over the large snake tattoo on my back. 

“This sight is familiar,” Noah spoke quietly. 

I propped my chin on my hand. “But I’m not going anywhere after. I’m not leaving you to deal with my inconsiderate decisions. I’m right here with you, Noah.” 

“I know,” he nodded. “We’re creating new memories now. Righting all of those wrongs. I’ve been excited for both of us to leave the past and move forward.” 

“Me too,” I left a chaste kiss on his chin, feeling the slight stubble tickle my lips. 

Noah tucked a piece of hair behind my ear then began tracing the line of my cheekbone, and jaw, then booped my nose, earning a giggle from me. 

“I brought you some clothes in case you want to get dressed,” he said while handing me a pair of black joggers and a matching shirt. 

I took them with a smile. “I think I should start keeping some clothes here.” 

“Plenty of space in the closet,” Noah threw a thumb over his shoulder. 

My heart fluttered at his words, realizing yet again that Noah was allowing me to occupy parts of his private sanctions. 

“I’ll clear out two of my dresser drawers for your stuff the next time you’re over,” I promised with a kiss on his lips. 

He hummed while grasping the back of my head to keep me there for a second longer. 

“It’s a deal, angel.” 

Slipping out of the bed, I trotted into the bathroom to get dressed while I heard Noah open his bedroom door and rummaging in the kitchen. When I hopped back into his bed, Salem came bounding into the room with the bell on his collar jingling. 

“Hi baby,” I cooed when he jumped up on the bed. “So, what do you think of the cat tree dad bought you? You like it?” 

His response? Curling up on Noah’s pillow with a chirp of approval.

“I’m gone not even five minutes and he steals my spot,” Noah chuckled entering the room again; dressed in nothing but a pair of black Bad Omens joggers and bright yellow socks. 

“Get used to it. You invited him over and now what’s yours is his,” I scratched between Salem’s ears. 

“I’ll gladly share with him,” he said while handing me a plate. 

My eyes lit up as a gasp fell from my lips. “Is that limoncello tiramisù?”

“Yeah, I picked some up from that Italian bakery you love. Carlos’.” 

“Yes!” I exclaimed while quickly digging into the treat. 

As I leaned against the headboard to eat, Noah sat cross-legged in front of me to eat his share, both of us basking in the silence; beside Salem’s purring. 

“Are we a family now?” Noah asked. 

With a bright smile, I leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek. “Yeah. We are.”

I set both of our empty plates on the end table next to Noah’s bed then pulled my knees to my chest. 

“You know what I’d love right now?” I asked. 

Noah winked which caused me to playfully smack his chest. “Not that.” 

“OK, sorry. What would you love?” He chuckled while rubbing his chest. 

“I’d love to listen to The Grey. I’ve been dying to know how you worked in my poem ever since you sent me that video.” 

“Alexa, play The Grey by Bad Omens,” Noah said with a smile. 

“Now playing The Grey by the band Bad Omens.” 

When Noah’s voice finally broke through the music, I let out a small gasp. It was different, new, hearing this voice come from the man in front of me. It made me proud to see how far he’d come from Finding God Before God Finds Me, knowing what his work ethic was like. He was always trying to break down the typical stereotype of what rock should sound like. He wanted to make changes and from this song alone, Noah was doing that. 

Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all. Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough. Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call. Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.” 

My eyes lit up. “Oh, this was from the video!” 

Noah giggled. “Yep.” 

I continued to listen to the song when he linked our hands together, bringing them to his lips to leave a kiss on each of my fingers. 

“I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down, and I'll never be the same. I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.” 

“Noah,” I beamed. “This is amazing. The lyrics, your voice, the beat. Everything about it.” 

A red hue crossed his cheeks as he sheepishly glanced down at his lap where our intertwined hands were. 

“Do you like it?” He gazed up at me through his long lashes. 

Rising to my knees, I now draped my arms around his neck and kissed his forehead, nose, both cheeks and then finally his lips. 

“I love it, Noah. And I love you.” 

He twirled my necklace between two of his fingers. “I love you too, Y/N.” 

For the first time since we rekindled our love, it was then that I noticed the tattoo on the side of his hand. 

K.E.A.T.O.N. 

When Noah realized I was reading the letters, he held up his other hand so I could read the letters on that hand. 

P.I.E.R.C.E. 

“Noah,” I breathed while putting his hands against my chest. 

“I needed to. He needs to know that he can sing his songs through me while he’s gone,” he explained with a lone tear slipping down his cheek. 

“I know.” I kissed his hands. “It’s okay.” 

Glancing over my shoulder, I took notice of the time and frowned. Earlier, Noah mentioned that tomorrow, well technically later today since it was already nearly two in the morning, Bad Omens were shooting the music video for The Death of Peace of Mind and he needed to be up early for it. 

In six hours. 

“I should probably get home,” I sighed. 

Noah’s hold against my hips tightened. “You can stay. I’ll sleep better if you’re next to me.” 

“You need your rest, mochi,” I patted his cheek. “I also have plans with Astrid to help her open up Fika then we’re going shopping right after.” 

Reluctantly with a sigh, Noah agreed and let me go, not before leaving a kiss on my forehead. 

“Salem is staying here tonight though,” he said. 

My jaw dropped as I stood from the bed and placed my hands on my hips. “Excuse me?” 

“Look at him,” Noah pointed to a sleeping Salem. “You can’t wake him.” 

“Fine,” I dragged out the word with narrowed eyes. “Tomorrow night. My place.” 

Noah towered over me when he stood to full length in front of me. “I’ll be there, angel.” 

NOAH

Stuffing my hands deep into the pocket of my yellow hoodie, I let my black slides drag my feet behind Y/N as we walked closer to her apartment door. The chill midnight air breezed through the loose strands of hair but I was too far gone in my mind to brush it away. Even though we promised to see each other tomorrow, making plans for me to spend the night here tomorrow night, part of me was worried. Afraid that once we parted ways, Y/N would second guess everything that happened and ignore me for months on end. 

Why was I so nervous?

I kept asking myself that as we came to a stop in front of her door. I shook at the thought that what I was doing in all aspects of my life mattered. I felt the need to get it right; especially with Y/N. 

Dr. Poulos once said “Nerves are a signal of truth, of what you value, of what you need and cherish. The constant needs of what I’ve wanted, the comfort and stability I desired. That the idea of not gaining happiness brings on those telltale tremors. Always ask yourself what the nerves are telling you. It’s an important way your body speaks.” 

She wasn’t wrong. I knew in the back of my mind that I was terrified Y/N would never come back. 

What if  I wasn’t good for her?

I desperately needed to fight these demons and not let them win. 

Y/N loves me. She loves me.

“Mochi, you’re shaking.” 

Snapping out of my thoughts, I noticed that Y/N had wrapped her arms around my midsection to pull me closer to her. 

“Oh, I am? Didn’t notice,” I mumbled under my breath. 

“What’s wrong?” She questioned.

“Angel, let it go. It’s nothing.” 

Part of me wanted to remove her grasp from me; the part that was used to shrinking away from my problems. But the other part of me that wanted to be a good man for her made me cup the back of her neck instead.  

“Talk to me,” she quietly begged. 

However, I remained silent; the words weighed heavy on my tongue. 

“Noah-.”

“I don't want you to leave,” I blurted out. 

Y/N’s eyes softened. “Noah, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No. I-I don’t know. I’m-.” I ran a shaking hand through my hair. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and change your mind. I’m not perfect-.” 

“Stop,” Y/N shook her head. “Don’t even say that, Noah. You know I love you. Just like I know you love me. Nothing will ever change my mind, alright? We’re both right here. We need to remain here, focus on that.” 

I let out a broken breath and brushed my lips over her forehead, my hands going back to grasp behind her neck. “Please don’t leave, don’t leave me in the shape you found me.” 

“Never. I will never leave you like that again,” she buried her face into my chest, breathing me in. 

I rested my chin on top of her head. “I love you and I want this so bad, angel. I want you.”

“I love you, Noah. I’ll reassure you as many times as I have to,” Y/N turned her head up at me now. “But you have to trust that I won’t let you fall. I’m here with you. It’s you and me, okay?” 

I blinked while letting out a calming breath. “I didn’t mean to ruin the night with my worries.” 

She kissed the tip of my nose. “You didn’t. And don’t apologize for your feelings. I know what we’ve gone through has done a lot. But we’re moving past that, Noah. I’m proud of that and I’d like for you to start trusting me.”

“I do,” I promised her with a kiss. “I do trust you.” 

“Good,” she rose to her tiptoes to lay another kiss on my lips, this one deeper than the last but she pulled away before I could slip my tongue in. “Take care of our baby. I’ll see you two tomorrow night.” 

With a heart doubled in size and adoration in my eyes, I watched Y/N as she slinked inside her apartment, throwing a peace sign over her shoulder at me.

We’ll be okay. 

NOAH

Grunting, I helped Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly maneuver the large board out of the truck and down the ramp to bring it inside the large warehouse where we had everything else almost set up. It was just before eleven a.m. and even with a second cup of coffee, the caffeine hadn’t seemed to take effect quite yet. After I dropped off Y/N at home last night, I returned to Salem, who was still curled up on my pillow when I left him, and as I lay next to him, my mind was plagued with negative thoughts I tried so hard to push away. It kept me up till almost four in the morning then four hours later, Jolly knocked on my bedroom door to wake me. 

As soon as we all arrived at the warehouse, I put on my best professional face and went to work going over the original plans with Orie, making sure we all were on the same page. This was our first music video in our new era so we wanted to make sure it was perfect. 

Now, as I stared up at the large board, pulling on the ends of my white shirt, I allowed my mind to wander to Y/N, wondering what she was up to right now. 

Did she like the paint idea? 

Was the sex good enough? It was great for me but I hoped there was no pain for her. She said there wasn’t. 

It sounded like she enjoyed it. 

Was I too vocal in my proclamations? 

No, I know I wasn’t. Y/N returned those proclamations every time. 

I ran an unsteady hand through my hair while letting out a long sigh, and staring down at my feet. 

My emotions were a part of me, and in this relationship, they blended with Y/N’s. Although, there are times I had these storms inside of me, never because of her, but from previous damage; the triggers from my past. I was certain things would be okay and this self-deprecation would pass. 

I desired Y/N’s presence like a madman gone awol. In those moments of a storm, I had to find my calm and center myself, typically by myself. But with Y/N, I didn’t have to do that. Like my music, she was my muse. 

“Noah?” 

Glancing over my shoulder, I gave a small smile to Nicholas. “Yea?” 

“Are you alright? You’ve been kind of quiet all morning,” he observed while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie. 

I eventually knew someone would notice my quiet demeanor. I’d only been humoring when it was dire to do so. 

Fuck, I missed Y/N. The negative thoughts monster has bitten his way through the bars.

I hated that this had come out of nowhere, sinking its teeth inside of me with no abandon. Our date last night was amazing but these fucking nerves kept trying to sabotage things once again. I did my best to not allow them to. 

I needed to stop worrying about last night, knowing I could change anything about what happened even though there was nothing that needed to change. Just like today, I needed to stop worrying about everything that could go wrong and focus on everything that would go right. 

“You know you can talk to me,” Nicholas’ voice snapped me from my thoughts. 

“I know,” I nodded curtly. “I’m fine. I just want things to go perfect today.” 

He reassured me with a squeeze to my shoulder. “It will. We’ve been planning the details for months.” 

I shifted all of my weight from one foot to the other, casting my gaze away from him and towards everyone who continued to work tirelessly. 

“You miss Y/N?” 

My eyes darted back over to Nicholas. “She texted me earlier after she helped Astrid open Fika. They’re going shopping before grabbing some late lunch. I was going to meet Y/N at her place with Salem once we were done here.” 

“So let that be the light to help you through today.” 

I scratched my chin and nodded. “Yeah, I know.” 

“Noah! Nicholas! The red lights on the masks aren't working!” Orie’s voice boomed in the vast space of the warehouse. 

Motioning Nicholas along, we spent the next handful of hours directing, watching, and redoing some scenes of the music video a few times over to make sure everything went off without a hitch; the perfectionist in me. We even stopped for a few-minute break so Orie could try and throw candy into Folio’s mouth while I peeked at the few unread messages from Y/N. 

Angel 🪽: I may have bought a few things I’d like to model for you later. If you’re up for it. 😉

A sudden burst of warmth spread to my cheeks, something that didn't go unnoticed by Orie, who snickered. 

“Oh, there’s only one person who can get you to smile like that.” 

My eyes pinned into him, a sharp look that said mind your own business. Stepping away from the group of them, I responded to Y/N’s message. 

Me: I’d never turn down a show from you, angel. Can I get a hint?

Angel 🪽: It’s red. And I’m very excited for you to take it off. 

Fuck. 

I adjusted myself with a cough and spent the next couple of minutes texting her with a bright smile. It was nearing nightfall which meant we were close to recording the next scene of the music video. 

Angel 🪽: Astrid has not stopped gushing about Jolly. It’s kind of cute though when she calls him Joakim. Did you know that she’s thinking of naming a drink after him at Fika? 

I snorted while glancing up at Jolly, who was busy texting away on his phone; most likely to Astrid. 

Me: I’d love to know the name of this drink. 

Angel 🪽: Älskling. It means honey. She’s thinking honey, Earl orange, and pomegranate tea. Because he’s “sweet like honey.” 

Angel 🪽: Noah Sebastian, don’t tell Jolly I told you because I know you can’t keep things like this to yourself. 

Feigning a hurt expression, I sent her a selfie and then typed out my response. 

Me: My lips are sealed. But I have to get back to work. Me and Salem should be at your place around ten. I’ll grab some food on the way. 

Angel 🪽: Burgers? 🥺

Angel 🪽: Also, you gave you the right to look so fucking good, huh? I can’t wait to kiss those lips. 

The way my heart jumped in my chest made it almost hard to breathe. 

Me: Whatever you want, angel. 

Angel 🪽: Just you. And burgers. I’ll always take a burger. 

Pocketing my phone, I rounded a finger towards everyone, my voice carrying throughout the space around me. 

“Alright! Let’s film this pool scene before it gets too cold for the girls.” 

Two hours later, it was nearing eight in the evening and all we had left to shoot was Bad Omens part of the video. We were in the home stretch and I was practically bouncing on the soles of my feet knowing that I’d be seeing Y/N in a few more hours. 

As the four of us were dressed in our outfits for the music video, I chatted quietly with Folio while fixing the collar of his jacket. He’d been busy on every break today either talking to his girlfriend or planning something. 

“How are things going with her?” I questioned. 

The smile that spread on his face made a faint one pull on mine, knowing that one of my best friends was happy. 

“Really good. I’d love to have you guys meet her soon.” 

I nodded. “Definitely.” 

Folio’s eyes peered over my shoulder, a smirk now pulling on his face and he wiggled his eyebrows. Before I could ask what he was staring at, that invisible string in my chest vibrated with such vigor, that it nearly knocked me off my feet. 

“Well, look at this group of handsome men!” 

Spinning on my heels, I saw Y/N and Astrid walk into the warehouse with bags of food from one of our favorite diners and both of them holding onto two trays of drinks. My heart ran amok in my chest as my stomach flipped three times over at seeing Y/N wearing the yellow hoodie I wore last night when I dropped her off. 

“I swung by your place to grab Salem and pack you an overnight bag so once you’re finished here, we can head straight to my place. And yes, I did steal your sweater,” she answered my thoughts. 

“Yellow is your color, angel,” I mused while slowly closing the distance to her. “You didn’t have to do all of this.” 

Astrid walked up to Jolly, who grabbed the things from her and laid a kiss on her lips; her laughter echoing around us. 

Y/N shrugged while I mimicked Jolly’s actions of taking the things from her hands. 

“We know how hard all of you are working today, it’s the least we could do.” 

Orie came up to grab the food and drinks from me before dispersing it to everyone. 

“Thank god you’re here, Y/N. Noah’s been really bossy today.” 

She placed a hand on her hip, cocking it out while narrowing her eyes at me. “Bossy, huh?” 

“He’s a tyrant,” Orie chuckled before taking a bite of his burger. 

I wrapped my arms around Y/N, breathing her in when I brushed my nose along her hairline. “You’re not going to turn her on your side, Orie. You’re wasting your time.” 

She raised her lips to meet mine and I hummed in delight when I tasted the milkshake she must have had on the way over here. Even though Y/N was here in my arms, I still couldn’t quiet the negative frame of mind that plagued me throughout the day. 

“I like this new look,” Y/N straightened out my jacket. 

All I could do was nod in response and her brows creased in worry. “Are you alright?” 

Linking our hands together, I pulled her through the warehouse to slip outside where I knew no one would be. We finished the pool scene a while ago and the extras had left for the night. 

“Oh, a pool? Are we going skinny dipping?” Y/N teased with a wink. 

I ran a hand through my already-styled hair, still not saying anything. My mind was a jumbled mess and I was afraid if I tried to speak, my words wouldn’t make sense. 

“Noah, what is going on? You’re worrying me.” 

Her warm hands cupped my cheeks so I had to look at her, those bright eyes pleading with worry. 

“Talk to me,” Y/N breathed. 

“Did you enjoy our date? Was it to your standards? Did I do alright with everything?” 

The questions blurted out like word vomit. 

“Of course I did, Noah!” Those eyes darted back and forth between mine. “I had a wonderful time. Did I do something to make you think otherwise?” 

I clutched her sides. “No, you didn’t! I promise. I know we talked about things last night. I wanted to make sure last night was everything you wanted.” 

“It was,” she adjusted the collar of my turtle neck. “I promise.”  

“I felt even closer to you than I ever have before. Especially when we had sex and I just wanted reassurance,” I sighed. “That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“Mochi, I loved every second with you. I loved everything about it. I felt closer and more connected with you too. Stop fussing if I had a great time. I’d sit and watch ants crawl out of the ground if it meant I could be with you.”

Something flashed in my mind that brought a genuine smile to my face and washed away all of those worries. 

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. "You'd sit and get a tattoo with me?"

I brushed away a loose strand of hair that fell from her braid behind her ear, fingers trailing against the skin of her neck.

"I'd sit and watch ants crawl out of a hole for hours if that meant I'm sitting next to you," I vowed with hooded eyes as I stared down at her lips.

I pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I take it we’re on for a second date then?” 

“I’m wide open,” Y/N winked with a kiss on my cheek. 

“Good,” I grinned. 

“Noah! We’re ready!” 

We both glanced over to the large opening of the warehouse to Nicholas who was waving us inside. 

“So, you’re staying the rest of the shoot?” I asked. 

Y/N beamed. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

READER

As I moved about my bedroom, tossing things into the suitcases that laid out on my bed, there was a delicate knock on my open door and Chase gave me a warm smile. 

“Malcolm and Noah are at the store right now and wondering if there’s anything else you need for this weekend,” he sat down on the edge of my bed. 

“No, just the list I gave them,” I said while zipping up my suitcase. 

“Are you nervous?” Chase asked, playing with Salem. 

“A bit, yeah,” I sighed while plopping down onto the bed next to him. “This is our first album as a three-piece. It’s completely different from our other albums so I’m afraid people won’t vibe with it.” 

Chase squeezed my knee. “They will. The reviews from the singles we already released are positive.” 

“I know. I’ve just been in my head a lot.” 

There was a slight hesitation in Chase’s breath before he asked his next question. 

“Have you talked to your parents at all?” 

My heart sank with guilt and I began chipping away at my nail polish. “It’s been a few days since I talked with my dad. With everything from trying to plan the album release party and Noah, I guess I kind of forgot to call him.” 

Chase wrapped an arm around me to pull me into his chest. “Your dad understands how busy you are. He’d never hold it against you.” 

I snorted. “Unlike my mom. Part of me wants to call her and give her an update on my life. Because I do love her, regardless of all of her faults, but I’m just afraid that she’ll judge me; again.” 

“Do whatever your heart tells you, sweets. You never know, she might surprise you.” 

Both of us shared a knowing look before we burst out in a fit of laughter knowing the odds of that happening. 

“But stop worrying about the small stuff, Y/N. Ethan said the house is booked, the guest list was sent out, and the caterers are paid. Everything is set, all we have to do is show up and promote the album,” Chase said as Salem lay between us. 

When I nodded, he stood to his feet and placed a kiss on top of my head then slipped out of my room. Pausing packing for a moment, I reached for my phone that was charging on my nightstand and I let my finger hover over my mom's contact for a long moment, wondering if I really wanted to do this or if it was the guilt for not reaching out to her more. 

Pros: she could be happy for me and even want to show up at the party. 

Cons: she calls me a disappointment yet again and criticizes my choices. 

“Fuck it,” I groaned then clicked on her name. 

It rang twice before going straight to voicemail. I rolled my eyes, knowing that she ignored my call, but tried not to dwell on the way my stomach dropped. 

“Hey mom, it’s me. How have things been? I heard you went to Greece for a few weeks to visit family. I bet that was nice, I’d love to see some pictures. Maybe we could meet up for coffee to talk?” 

I ran my sweaty palms on my sweats before continuing. “I have some news. Hollow Souls new album releases this Saturday and we're throwing this party to celebrate it. I know you never were too keen on my career choice but it would mean a lot if you came. I’ll text you the details. S'agap��.” 

Ending the call by saying I loved her in Greek, I hit the red button with a disappointed sigh. I knew there was a higher chance she wouldn’t answer my call rather than actually answering it. Instead of dwelling on it, I texted my dad. 

Me: Can I call? 

His response came almost instantly. 

Dad: You never have to ask, sweetheart. 

With a smile, I decided to FaceTime him instead and broke out in a large smile when his face appeared on the screen. His hair had a bit more gray than the last time and a few more wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. The glasses were practically falling off his nose but when he saw me, he pushed them up. 

“There she is! Oh, I’m loving the new hair!” He beamed. 

“Thanks Dad. I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while, life’s been kind of crazy,” I explained while leaning against the headboard. 

My dad waved me off as he spun around in his office chair, the large and filled bookcases now his backdrop. “It’s alright, sweetheart. How have things been?” 

We spent the next few minutes catching up when Noah entered my room, both hands full of bags. When I went to help him, he held up the bags higher so I couldn’t. With a playful glare at him, I turned my attention back to my dad while Noah went about emptying the bags. 

“So your mom didn’t answer?” 

Briefly ignoring the questioning glance from Noah, I shook my head at my dad. 

“I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s like she has this radar that goes off before I call to talk about my life. If it’s not about her, she doesn't care,” I pulled my knees up to my chest so Noah could sit down in front of me. 

My dad took off his glasses to rub his eyes before putting them back on his nose. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I wish she never took her own frustrations out on you. She’s unhappy with how things ended with the divorce and she can’t seem to heal from it.” 

Noah’s fingers grazed over the exposed skin of my ankle. 

“All these years later and I still try to make her proud of me,” I shrugged. 

“I know sweetheart. But sometimes, you have to think about yourself and make yourself proud before her. That’s what matters.” 

Noah’s hand brushed away the hair from my face and I smiled up at him. 

“Oh, whose hand is that?” My dad's questionable voice came from my phone. “Those are a lot of tattoos.” 

With a glance at Noah, he nodded so I shifted my position for my phone to not only show me but him as well.

“I wish I could introduce you two face to face but this will have to do. Dad, this is Noah.” 

Noah gave a small wave to the phone. “Hi, Mr. Y/L/N, it’s an honor to meet you.” 

“Shit, even your neck is covered! That had to hurt,” my dad chuckled while rubbing his own neck. “It’s an honor to meet you as well, Noah. My daughter has told me quite a lot about you. All good things, no need to worry.” 

My cheeks burned and Noah wrapped an arm around my side, pulling us closer. 

“You have a wonderful daughter. I want to assure you that I love her and will take great care of her,” he vowed. 

My father snorted while moving about his house now. “I knew it from the moment I saw that video of you two performing on stage together during your last tour that you loved Y/N. It was clear in the way you smiled at her.” 

“Dad,” I muttered under my breath. 

Noah, however, looked at me with deep affection in those almond eyes. “I think I knew it back then as well, it just took me longer to admit it.” 

“Call it father’s intuition,” my dad said. “But I have to go. I’m meeting some friends for ramen.” 

“Ugh,” I groaned. “I would kill for some Japanese ramen right now.” 

“Well,” my father started while slipping into his jacket one-handed. “Bring Noah the next time you visit and we can all go out for some. There’s this great place next to this shop that sells some kind of Manga drawings. I don’t understand it but the kids your age seem to love it.” 

“We’ll be there,” Noah promised with a kiss on the side of my head. 

“Have fun at the album release party, sweetheart. I can’t wait to hear the new songs!” 

We both waved at the screen before it went black, me hanging up the call. 

“Your dad seems like a great guy,” Noah noted while rolling off of my bed and trotting over to my dresser. 

He opened the top two drawers, rummaging around for some of his clothes. 

About two weeks ago, he slowly brought some of his things over here while I did the same at his place. We’d been bouncing back and forth between the two but with how busy I’d been planning the album release party and all the finishing touches for the album, it’d been a few days since Noah and I spent the night together. So now that we were leaving tomorrow for the weekend, he decided to spend the night at my place so we could ride up to Big Bear with Chase and Malcolm. 

“He is,” I rested my chin on my knees. “I really hope one day we can visit him together.” 

“We will.”

Noah promised with a kiss on my head before retreating out of my room so he could shower while I finished packing all of our things, the excitement of this weekend making me dance around my bedroom. 

READER

My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I typed away on my phone, the hustle and bustle of everyone setting up for the party falling away from me. 

The Power Puff Girls group chat:

Me: You guys on your way back? 

Astrid: Had to stop at the store quickly! Matt texted Jolly to grab some Dr. Pepper.  We picked up Maxxine about thirty minutes ago but would have been back at the house by now if Jolly wasn’t taking FOREVER in the book section. He’s trying to find some kind of new fantasy book to read this weekend. 

Maxxine: It’s kind of cute watching the two of you giggle with your own inside jokes while I just stand here as a third wheel. 

I let out my own chuckle as I stopped in front of the large mirror in the rental house, brushing away any lint from my white dress. The sleeves were lace and stopped right at my elbows and the bottom of my dress rested mid-thigh. I was afraid that the front may have been too low cut but Noah reassured me it was fine. 

With an array of kisses between my breasts. 

My phone vibrated in my hand and I read the new message. 

Astrid: Oh hush you. 

Me: Well, we’re very excited for you to join us, Maxxine. Bring some more females into this group of male hormones. I’d been dying to introduce you to someone! 

Maxxine: No, Y/N. Please. My last date was so horrendous, I still haven’t recovered. 

“Angel?” 

Glancing away from my phone, I smiled at Noah as he came bounding down the stairs dressed in a black long-sleeve and almost eggshell white pants. I licked my lips at the sight of him dressed up. It wasn’t anything fancy but it still made my heart flutter. 

“Have you seen my shoes? The black-.” 

“The black lace-ups,” I nodded. “Yes, they’re in the closet in our room. Next to my house shoes.” 

He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Thank you.” 

As Noah retreated upstairs again, I turned back down to my phone. 

Astrid: We promise, this guy is different! 

Maxxine: I don’t know. I think I should just be single for a while. My luck with men hasn’t been the greatest. I always chose losers. 

Me: Please, you’ll be thanking us for setting you up with him. 

Setting my phone on the kitchen counter, I peered over to Jesse, who was setting up the drinks and snacks at the dining room table. Noah mentioned to me the other night how Jesse had been feeling quite down a lot lately due to his anxiety and had been falling into himself, closing himself off from everyone. While Jesse wouldn’t admit it, we all had an inkling feeling that seeing some of his best friends get into relationships, made him doubt himself in finding someone. We also knew how hard of a time he had in Pittsburg when Erra was there touring a few months ago, so Astrid and I decided to set him up with a mutual friend of ours and I invited her to the party tonight. 

“Hey,” I slinked up beside Jesse and bumped my shoulder with his. 

“Hi,” he smiled. “You look beautiful. Excited for tonight?” 

“Thank you! I am. But I just wanted to let you know that there’s someone I want you to meet tonight.” 

He set down the cups and raised a brow. “Why me?” 

“Oh, no reason,” I shrugged before patting his chest and walking away. 

“Y/N! What’s that supposed to mean!”

Giggling, I met up with Chase and Malcolm in the main living area of the house. Chase was brushing away Maclolm’s long auburn locks and I smiled at the two of them. I knew they were nervous about being open about their relationship in the beginning but now they were blossoming together and I couldn’t have been happier for them. 

“How are we feeling?” I asked them to check-in. 

Malcolm ran a hand down the front of his black dress shirt. “Nervous as hell.” 

Chase rubbed his shoulder. “It’ll be fine, love. The support already has been incredible. It’s only going to get better.” 

I wrapped my arms around both of them. “In case this album flops, I want you guys to know that I’m glad we took this chance. I love what we created.” 

“It’s not going to flop,” Chase rolled his bright blue eyes but returned the hug. “Love you two, idiots.” 

I pulled away from them and turned towards the front door when it opened, smiling at Astrid, Jolly, and Maxxine who walked inside. My eyes darted from Maxxine to Jesse, who froze in the middle of his tracks. He took in the sight of her; long legs, olive skin, long black hair, and bright hazel eyes. 

Maxxine, who had her arms full of bags, gave a slow once over of Jesse with a blush and faint smile. 

“Hi,” he cleared his throat. “Let me help you.” 

“Thank you,” she allowed Jesse to take a couple of bags from her. 

Astrid and I shared a proud smile. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” 

Noah’s deep voice sang in my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, a kiss to the side of my neck. Turning in his embrace, I pecked his lips. 

“Hm, once or twice,” I wrapped my arms behind his neck. 

With the soft tune of music playing in the background, our bodies began to sway lightly. When his eyes fell behind me, his brows furrowed together. 

“Who’s the girl with Jesse?” 

I turned slightly in his embrace to see Jesse and Maxxine laughing about something with each other. She was lightly touching his arm and the smile on his face was one that you couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard you tried. 

“Oh, that’s a friend of mine and Astrid’s. Her name is Maxxine. I thought that maybe she and Jesse would hit it off,” I explained. 

Noah’s lips left feather-like kisses along my forehead. “I love you.” 

I grasped the front of his shirt, engulfing myself in his scent. 

“I love you too. But before the party starts, I want to show you something.” 

Linking our hands together, we slipped away from the group and down the hall of the rental home to the office where I already had things set up. I closed the door behind us and motioned for Noah to sit on the long sofa while I sat on the recliner chair diagonal from him. On the table was a pair of wireless headphones that were already hooked up to my phone. 

“What’s this?” Noah wondered after falling onto the couch. 

I handed him the headphones. “I know you’ll hear this song later but I wanted you to hear it for the first time with just the two of us. It’s an important song and it means a lot.” 

My heart was drumming inside of the confines of my chest making it hard to breathe. I finished recording this song months ago and besides me, Chase, and Malcolm no one else heard it. I wanted Noah to be the first. 

Once he placed the headphones over his ears, I loaded up the song on my phone and hit play. Even though I couldn’t hear the song physically, I could hear it in my mind. 

I know it's warmer where you are and it's safer by your side. But right now I can't be what you want. Just give it time.

Noah’s shoulders went stiff as he flicked his eyes up at me, steepling his fingers together in his lap. I gave him a reassuring nod, urging him to continue. 

And if you and I can make it through the night. And if you and I can keep our love alive, we'll fight. 

Now nothing gave way on his face as he stared down at his hands, the only movement was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. 

We can meet in the middle. Bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight where all the stars align. Oh you and I, oh you and I, oh. 

I couldn’t bear being so far from him while not knowing how he was feeling so I rose from my chair to sit on the other end of the couch next to him. 

Well, it's cold when we're apart and I hate to feel this die. But you can't give me what I want. Just give it time

Noah’s eyes fluttered shut and I swore I saw all the oxygen leave his lungs, telling me I knew what part of my lyrics he just heard. 

But for now we stay so far. 'Til our lonely limbs connect. I can't keep you in these arms. So I'll keep you in my mind.

My bottom lip caught between my teeth as my knee bounced with anticipation, wanting desperately to know what he thought about my song. But I didn’t want to disturb him yet. 

Can we meet in the middle? Bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight. Where all the stars align. Oh you and I, oh you and I, oh.

Glancing at my phone, I realized the song ended, but Noah made no effort to take off the headphones. My lips parted to speak when I noticed a lone tear roll down his cheek. 

“Noah?” I tapped his arm. 

With the heat of my touch, it was as if he came alive again. Ripping off the headphones, Noah’s lips attacked mine with an inferno, making me fall back onto the couch with him on top of me. My fingers quickly found their usual place in his hair while he hooked my leg around his hips. 

“Angel,” he fanned in the crook of my neck. 

“Did-did you like it?” I asked. 

Noah’s tongue brushed along the pulsepoint of my neck and I shivered underneath him. 

“I loved it,” he breathed as his teeth scraped up along my jawline before slipping his tongue into my mouth. 

We had a short fight for dominance before reluctantly I let Noah win, his hands running up and down my bare thighs. When he pulled away, I was dizzy; kiss drunk. And his eyes burned as he looked down at me. 

“Are you sure?” I questioned, still filled with worry he didn’t like it. 

“Y/N,” he lifted my chin with the finger that had the small heart tattooed on it. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. It was perfect.”

“Thank you,” I wrapped my legs around him to bring his body closer to mine, moaning when I felt the outline of his cock brush along my heated core. 

His forehead fell onto my chest and sighed. “Do we have to go out there? Can we stay here the two of us? In our bubble.” 

I lifted his head to kiss his nose. “Unfortunately, this party is partly for me so I have to show up.” 

Grudgingly, Noah untangled himself from me and then helped me to my feet, fixing my dress and hair for me. 

With our fingers linked together, he led me back into the main part of the house where the party was already well underway. 

THIRD PERSON POV

The crowd of people kept congratulating the members of Hollow Souls for an amazing album. Everyone loved the new songs and was excited about the new direction they were headed toward. Chase and Malcolm chatted with one of the reps from the record label while Y/N was talking with someone she didn’t expect to see there. 

“I can’t believe you flew all the way to Los Angeles from Vermont for this! You didn’t have to,” she smiled while wrapping her arms around the man in a hug. 

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Y/N,” Joe shrugged. “Where’s Noah?” 

“Um, last I saw he was talking with his friend Bryan.” 

She glanced around the room but broke out in a large smile when Noah slinked up beside her and left a kiss on her cheek. 

“There you are. I have someone I’d like you to meet. This is Joe,” Y/N pointed between the two men. 

Noah extended a hand. “Nice to officially meet you.” 

“Yeah you too,” Joe shook his hand with a smile. 

The three of them chatted for a long while after moving to one of the couches in the living room,  Y/N watching with fondness as her boyfriend and one of her good friends got along pretty well. She even stole a glance over towards Jesse and Maxxine who were seated on the couch across from them. His arm was thrown over the top of the couch, fingers grazing over the skin of Maxxine’s shoulder. Every so often she would slink in closer towards him. 

“Would you like a drink, angel?” Noah asked. 

Her eyes snapped back to him and she nodded. “Dr. Pepper, please.” 

Once Noah stood from the couch, Y/N opened her mouth to ask Joe how life was going when someone else sat down on the couch next to her, almost in Noah’s previous spot. 

Devon? Derrick? No, his name was Dennis; a mutual acquaintance of Ethan, their manager. 

“Hey, Y/N. I thought I’d sneak in to tell you how awesome the new album sounds,” he slicked back his overly gelled hair. 

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.” 

While she knew of him from things Ethan would say, Y/N never actually met him. 

“I love the new vibe you guys have going on. It’s very different from your old albums. Although, I must say that my favorite is still your self-entitled. Trey’s vocals kick ass on that.” 

Joe sat up straighter from his spot on the other side of Y/N while she narrowed her eyes at Dennis. 

“Everyone has their own opinions I suppose,” she said while trying to pull down the ends of her dress when she caught Dennis staring at her legs. 

“You know,” he licked his lips and moved closer to Y/N. “You’re doing really well without Trey. How about we go out for a drink?” 

“No thank you, I’m not interested.” 

Y/N slinked back closer to Joe, who gladly accepted it.

“One drink?” Dennis tried again with a sly smirk. 

“I don’t drink,” Y/N narrowed her eyes while crossing her arms over her chest, hoping to show the guy that she was finished with this conversation. 

Joe sent a look over to Malcolm, who was standing in the kitchen next to Noah, and with that shared expression, the redhead nodded. 

“Noah,” Malcolm motioned behind Noah. 

With a perplexed look, Noah turned around and nearly crushed the glass in his hand at what he saw. Y/N was almost in Joe’s lap, trying to get away from some douchebag who kept advancing towards her. 

“What the fuck,” he grumbled under his breath, nostrils flaring. 

Tonight was not the night to lose his cool but he could feel that ugly feeling burning low in his gut; the feeling he despised. He didn’t want to come off as jealous or that he couldn’t trust Y/N because he could. But Noah did not like the way this guy was almost undressing her with his eyes. 

Joe wanted to intervene but also knew that Y/N had it handled; something she’d proven before. 

She glanced around the room with panic in her eyes until they fell on Noah, utter relief filling them. The guy followed her gaze and scoffed when he realized what she Y/N was looking at. 

Noah’s blood ran cold as his heart was thumping loudly in his ears, everything becoming white noise to him. His fingers shook at his sides, doing his best to remain calm. 

“Who is that guy?” He asked Malcolm. 

“Dennis. Ethan’s assistant.”

Matt, who had snuck up beside Noah, urged him with a look. 

“This asshole just asked Y/N to go outside with him for more privacy.” 

Fire burned in Noah’s eyes as he snapped them back over to the couch, where he nearly choked at the sight in front of him. Dennis was dragging his fingers down Y/N’s neck with intimacy that was reserved for Noah only. That was his spot. Y/N was his, it was proven tonight when she played her song for him. 

His insides burned with rage that it nearly made him unable to see anything in front of him. 

The sound of Y/N’s hand smacking Dennis’ hand away broke through the haze in Noah’s vision. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she seethed. 

Joe quickly pulled Y/N up from the couch just as Noah pushed himself off the edge of the counter and made his way through the crowd over towards his girlfriend; hands shaking with more vigor now. It would be so easy to punch Dennis and show him who Y/N belongs to, however, Noah wouldn’t create a scene tonight; not when this night meant so much to Hollow Souls. 

With three deep breaths, Noah came to a halt in front of Y/N who quickly found solace underneath his arm.

“Everything alright?” He wondered. 

Y/N, albeit with the annoyed look in her usual bright eyes, wore a faux smile. “Yeah, now it is.” 

“I think you were just leaving, no?” Joe asked Dennis. 

The man shook his head while slowly rising to his feet. “No, actually I wasn’t. I heard that Y/N is single so I thought to shoot my shot.” 

Noah’s body vibrated with anger so Y/N rested a hand on his chest, her touch immediately calming him. 

“I’d like to know where you heard that,” Noah spoke slowly, even though he was on edge. 

“Does it matter?” Dennis harshly laughed. “All I’m saying is that she looks sexy as fuck tonight. I thought we could sneak away for a bit but it seems like she’s too far up your ass to even notice there are other guys here.” 

“I already said no,” Y/N’s voice was stern. 

Noah’s eyes sliced Dennis in half but remained calm; an eerie calm that seemed to have the gathering crowd of their friends on edge. His arm was still around her, claiming Y/N as his own but for added measure he left a kiss on the side of her head. 

Dennis raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, I get it. It’s fine, from what I hear from Trey, you can’t be satisfied anyway.” 

Chase appeared almost out of nowhere and grabbed him by the collar of his green polo. “Time for you to go. Now.” 

“Chase, please. No fighting,” Y/N begged still in Noah’s embrace. 

His usual bright blue eyes were dark, a deep hue of midnight, while he glared at Dennis. 

“I promise, no fighting,” Chase gritted out through clenched teeth. “I’m only going to show this asshole the way out.” 

Noah and Dennis shared one final glance, victory dancing on the former's lips before he whispered in Y/N’s ear. 

“Upstairs. Now.” 

Her eyes sparkled when she gazed up at him with a mischievous smirk. The both of them slipped away almost unnoticed by everyone, running up the stairs two at a time with Noah smacking her ass, her giggles echoing far behind them. 

READER

As soon as we were in the confines of our bedroom in the rental house, Noah lifted me in the air to press my back against the door. I wrapped my legs around his waist while his hands gripped my thighs. There was a dire need of want in his eyes as he crashed his lips to mine in such a frenzied, hungry kiss, that it made me see stars from the force of it. His teeth grazed over my tongue and then my lips, drawing the teeniest bit of blood. 

“Fuck, Noah!” I exclaimed while dotting a finger to my lip. 

Growling, he began biting my neck, licking away Dennis’ touch. “I don’t know who the fuck he thinks he is. No one will ever fucking talk to you like that or touch what’s mine.”

“Oh god, yes,” I hissed, running my hands through his hair when he sucked on my sweet spot.

Somehow Noah managed to yank off my panties in our position and stuffed them deep into his pocket. One lone finger slipped between us when he pinned me to the door again and started rubbing fast circles on my clit. 

“Shit. Fuck. So good,” I crowed while pulling on the ends of his hair. 

Once I was wet enough, Noah quickly pulled out his cock, rubbing a fist over it for a few pumps before slipping in between my folds with a hard snap of his hips that we rattled against the door. I felt so full, so stretched open, that I gasped; not realizing at first that Noah forgot to put on a condom. 

“I want that motherfucker to hear who you belong to, angel,” he grunted with each thrust, nails digging into the skin of my bare ass to keep me grounded against him. 

“Fuck, god. So good,” I panted while scratching at his shoulders. “Right there.” 

We both were grunting so loudly and with the banging of the door, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that everyone could hear us downstairs. But none of them mattered. 

Only Noah and I did. 

His lips attacked mine once again, teeth smacking and tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths. 

“Say my name, I want him and any other man who thinks they have a shot, to hear who you belong to,” Noah bit down hard on my neck, his thrusts were fast and relentless. 

“NOAH!” I screamed when his finger pressed against my clit again, being exactly what I needed to come apart on his cock. 

My body writhed in his tight hold on me and with the force of his hands on my ass, I knew that I would have bruises in the morning but I didn’t fucking care. 

“You’re mine.” He grunted while craning my neck back by my hair. 

Noah went back to working on the raised red mark on my neck, right alongside the other bite marks he left before. 

“Yes, I am,” I rasped, gone in ecstasy. 

“Forever angel,” Noah’s hips stilled before pulling himself completely out of me. “Fucking say it.” 

“I’m yours forever, Noah!” I proclaimed with a feverish nod. 

“You’re mine, angel,” he gruffed while now wrapping his hand around his cock. 

It was thick and red, almost angry from being denied release. 

“It felt too good and I didn’t want to risk it,” he sighed while letting me fall to my feet. 

I kissed his lips, this time more gentle than our previous kisses. “Cum on my chest.” 

Noah’s movements around his cock faltered for a moment, pupils dilating to pure black. 

“What?” 

Dropping to my knees, I pulled down the front of my dress to expose my bare chest to him and peered up at him through my lashes. 

“I want you to mark me, Noah. Mark what’s yours,” I begged. 

“Shit, Y/N,” he mused while running one hand through my hair, dragging his fingers down my neck over my chest to pull and pinch my nipples. 

His grip around his cock was tight, knuckles turning white as he moved his hand up and down with such a velocious pace, it almost made it hard to focus on it. I licked my lips when I spotted the precum Noah used to spread over the head of his cock and I whined with the desire to taste him. 

The hand he had wrapped around the back of my neck to keep me in place tightened its grip as he bent over me, resting his forehead against the door. Noah was still dressed but I could only imagine that the muscles in his stomach were taut, his release so close. 

“Cum for me, Noah. Please,” I begged with a whiny breath. 

“Fucking hell,” he howled my name when his warm release shot all over my neck and down between my breasts. 

I hummed in pleasure, seeing the white stickiness run down my stomach, reveling in the feeling of his mark all over me. Noah stared down at me through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with each deep breath. 

“I didn’t think,” he took a deep breath while licking his lips. “I didn’t think that would be so hot.” 

Allow him to help me to my feet, I couldn’t wipe the smirk from my face. “I did, why do you think I asked for it?” 

Noah’s eyes flashed as he bent low to capture my lips in a kiss. “Am I going to keep finding out your secret kinks, angel?” 

“I think so since you discovered two of them already,” I dragged a finger down his cheek. 

“You like possessive sex? I feel terrible for throwing you against the door,” Noah rubbed the back of his neck. 

I shrugged. “It’s not so much the possessive side of it but more so the dominant side of you.” 

He lifted my hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on my palm. “Do you want to head back downstairs?” 

“No, I’m exhausted and need a shower,” I giggled while motioning to my chest. 

Even though his cheeks reddened, the look that crossed his face as he looked me over made my core clench. 

“Get cleaned up and I’ll sneak downstairs to grab us some snacks,” Noah patted my ass, dismissing me towards the bathroom connected to our bedroom. 

“Think Folio will share those chocolate-covered pretzels he brought?” I wondered. 

Noah chuckled while stuffing his cock back into his pants before zipping them. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” 

Right before he slipped through the door, I chastised him when I noticed the large red mark on my neck.

ASTRID

“Okay, I think they’re finally finished,” I chuckled while walking into the bedroom I was sharing with Jolly. “The door stopped rattling awhile ago and when I walked past their bedroom, I heard one of them snoring.” 

Jolly peered up from strumming a few notes on the guitar in his lap and smiled at me. 

“It’s most likely, Noah. Do you know he wears those nose strips?” 

“No way!” I gasped while pulling down the sleeves of his sweater I was wearing, moving about the room to finish getting ready for bed. 

It was his black Bad Omens hoodie, with the hand and gun on the front.

“Yeah, try sleeping in a moving sweatbox and hearing that. I sometimes worry he’ll inhale the bus curtains. That’s Y/N’s problem now,” he chuckled while reaching for me and pulling me to the bed with him. 

I broke out in a fit of giggles when he placed me in his lap and then rested the guitar in mine. He set my fingers in the position they needed to before helping me strum a few notes. 

He placed a kiss on my shoulder. “I’m glad you were able to leave Fika for the weekend to be here with me.” 

I turned my head towards him and kissed his lips. “Jessica can handle it. I need to start loosening the reins a bit and enjoy things more.” 

Jolly’s eyes glinted as he set the guitar down on the floor before lying me back down on the bed, lifting my end of the sweater to reveal all I was wearing underneath was a pair of black underwear. 

“You walked around like this?” His voice rumbled deep within his chest. 

I innocently shrugged. “I didn’t run into anyone. Besides, I’m practically swimming in your sweater. No one would have seen anything.” 

Hooking my underwear with his fingers, Jolly practically ripped them down my legs before flipping me onto my stomach. 

“Keep the sweater on, käraste,” he demanded while spreading my legs wide. 

“Fuck, yes,” I nodded while burying my face into the pillow, hearing Jolly’s belt buckle fall to the floor. 

NOAH

Jolly and I moved around the large kitchen, almost with ease like we’d done this countless times before as we made breakfast for everyone. It was our last day up in Big Bear and we had a full day of activities planned. 

Breakfast, a mountain hike, lunch at a diner in town, and Y/N wanted to steal me away for a few hours to go horseback riding. 

The large table was filled with everyone and I had to stop for a moment to appreciate everyone here who came out to support Hollow Souls. They didn’t need to but they did because Y/N, Chase, and Malcolm became part of our family with that tour that seemed so long ago now. 

“Noah, can you hand me the eggs?” 

Snapping my gaze away from everyone, I turned towards Jolly and handed him the carton of eggs. 

“So,” I smirked while pouring more pancake mix onto the sizzling griddle. “I heard you had a great night last night. I walked past your room to come down to the kitchen for a drink and heard you grunting something in Swedish. What was it?” 

He froze, mixing the eggs in the large bowl for a moment before scoffing. “Like you’re one to talk. We all heard you guys last night. The door wouldn’t stop rattling, shaking the walls.” 

My face was beet red and I adjusted the collar of my sweater to ease it away from my neck. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” 

“I’m surprised you even heard anything over your snoring,” Jolly shrugged with a sly smirk. “I told Astrid you use nose strips.” 

I dropped the spatula, it clattering to the counter and gasped. “You did not!” 

A sudden movement from the stairs caught both of our attention, our heads snapping to the forms of Jesse and Maxxine walking down, her wearing one of his shirts. With a shared look, Jolly and I scurried over to our girlfriends, me pulling on Y/N’s shirt while she poured herself a cup of coffee. 

“Mochi,” she smacked my hand away. “Not now. I’m hungry and need caffeine. Sex in the shower took a lot out of me this morning.” 

“Angel,” I reached for her again. 

“I’m serious,” she held a stern gaze over the rim of her cup as she looked at me. “I need a break.” 

Rolling my eyes, I turned her around just in time for her to see Jesse hold out the chair for Maxxine, who blushed up at him in thanks. 

“No fucking way!” Y/N sputtered into her cup and then looked back at me. “She stayed the night with him?” 

I wrapped my arms around her, breathing in the peach scent of her body wash, and smiled. “Look at you, little matchmaker.” 

We shared a kiss before I motioned for her to sit down at the table so I could bring her a plate of food. 

Everyone went about the kitchen, filling up their own plates while I sat down next to Y/N, handing her the plate. Once everyone was seated, Malcolm took a long pull of his coffee before setting it down on the dark oak of the table. 

“So, who do you think was louder last night? Jolly or Noah?” 

The noise of my fork falling on my plate rang loudly in all of our ears while Jolly nearly choked on his scrambled eggs. Both of us slowly sank into our seats while Astrid and Y/N shared a look across the table, stifling a fit of giggles behind their hands. 

Noticing the way our faces reddened, Folio spoke up to change the subject. “Did anyone enjoy seeing the snow dogs? Michelle and I had a great time when we were here last time.”

“Oh that’s right,” Davis nodded. “You guys were here for Valentine's Day, right?” 

While their conversation fell on deaf ears, I felt my heart stutter in my chest and glanced over to Y/N, who was having her own conversation with Michael who sat next to her. The realization hit me with such force, that I had to lean farther back into my chair. 

Even though it was well into March, we never spent Valentine's Day together, and honestly, that wasn’t something that sat well with me. My heart yearned to make up for all the times we missed during our time apart and for the rest of breakfast, I made those plans in my mind. 

“Were we really that loud last night?” 

Y/N asked me at the same time Astrid asked Jolly and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me with a chuckle, brushing my lips against her ear. 

“Want to see if we can get even louder before we leave?” I nibbled on her ear lobe. 

[oddinary4bts]

When the End Comes | ch 1 (jjk)

☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut

☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. Curse words, Jungkook's car, mentions of Jungkook's accident, mention of reader getting kicked out in TFS, explicit content: breast/nipple play, hickey, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, hair pulling, jerking off, squirting, praise, pain kink (Jungkook), balls squeezing (lmao), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

☆word count: 9.4k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: First chapter is here and it's time to CRY (I apologize in advance for the therapy bills) :') Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3 and thank you to @jessikahathaway for supporting me with this project, you are amazinnng

☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!

☆Add yourself to the taglist here (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes!)

☆☆☆☆☆

But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes

When the End Comes, Andrew Belle

☆☆☆☆☆

Wednesday, April 19th 

                The setting sun turns the living room into liquid gold, bathing you in golden warmth that traces your features delicately from where you sit on the couch. Spring is upon you – outside, you can hear birds singing, and the gentle wind of spring carries the smell of melted snow, of wet soil and of early leaves.

You sigh. Your phone has been dead silent all day, as it’s been for weeks now, and the loneliness of it keeps the winter cold close. Always.

Jungkook said he would call. He often says it, often promises he wants to go to sleep with your voice at his ear, since he can’t sleep with you in his arms. Years ago, when he first started his job in Europe, he did, calling you every night when you got home from work and he went to sleep in a European city too far from you.

He usually leaves for a few months at a time. Never more than three, and he usually stays for a month after that before leaving again. He’s been photographing for museums all over Europe, and his latest job at the Louvres in Paris seems to have been keeping him more occupied than the others.

You’d think it’d make sense – the Louvres is the Louvres. But you miss Jungkook. Miss the early years of your relationship, when you spent almost every day together. When he moved in with you in your first apartment, the one he had found for you while you weren’t even dating yet.

A deep ache has settled inside of you this time around. Because, even if he says he’ll try, even if he promised it wouldn’t be like the last time he was away, this time is worse. Far worse. You’ve only spoken to him on the phone once since he left half a month ago, and he texts you sparingly throughout the week.

You never thought there would come a day when your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t be what it was at the beginning. Hell, the honeymoon phase lasted for almost three years, and then you had another year before he started working overseas. The first months he had spent away had rekindled the flame, passion and desire burning through you the moment you laid your eyes on him again the day he had come back.

But distance is difficult. Distance can tame even the wildest flame, and you’re starting to believe it has tamed the flame between you and Jungkook. You hate it – every night for a week you’ve fallen asleep with a heart so heavy it felt as if you weren’t going to wake up. And every day you’ve woken up feeling even worse, and you don’t know what’s going to help anymore.

You turn your head, catching sight of the frames on the shelves by the window. They too bathe in setting sunlight, shining like the glass is made of gold. From where you’re sitting, you can’t really see the pictures, but you know them by heart.

There are the pictures from his first photo exhibit, when you were still in college. Pictures of you, of him falling in love with you and you falling in love with him. Then there are pictures of that first Christmas, and of the first time you celebrated your birthday with him. Pictures of you, of him holding you, and of his hand in yours. Pictures from when Jiho gave birth to her first child Lisa, and then a picture with you two on a camping trip with Lisa and her younger brother Charles. That trip happened two summers ago, replacing your usual annual visit to a cabin in the woods, the year after the dance crew retired. Because as much as you and your friends loved that cabin in the woods, loved the dance crew, you eventually grew out of it.

There are pictures from Heather and Bridget’s wedding last fall, pictures of your story with Jungkook as it unfolded through the years.

No new pictures have been added since that last picture in the fall, because nothing worth taking pictures of happened since then. Jungkook has been gone most of the time, and when he’s here he’s too tired to do anything, preferring staying in and cuddling on the couch as you watch hours of Netflix without ever speaking.

You see the doom. It’s been coming for you, tightening around you like a scourge. Nothing you’ve been trying to do has helped – not even the nice lingerie pictures you sent him two nights ago. Not even the letter you wrote for him, though he did have flowers delivered to you at the firm.

Your coworker Harrison made fun of you for the flowers, teasing you like he’s taken to teasing you whenever something related to Jungkook happens. Which, as much as you hate admitting, is not much anymore.

Sometimes, when he’s away, you think he’s a ghost in your life. You wish you could turn back time and go back to the night where it all started between you. The July night of years ago, or perhaps the night of the hotel roof in Chicago. You struggle to pinpoint where you’d go back, but you do believe that anything would be better than the now.

You blink away the blurriness in your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady the aching beats of your heart. You glance at your phone – your empty notification screen stares back at you, a reminder that for all he says, he’s stopped trying this time around.

You figure you could call him. Could make the effort, but you’re tired. Tired of trying when it seems like it doesn’t work anymore. And so your aching heart keeps beating in your chest, and you put your phone away to cook dinner when it’s become clear that he won’t call.

And when you go to bed, after having taken the dog out one last time, your phone still lies empty, the picture of you and him that you have as a background taunting you, haunting you until troubled sleep finds you in its hold.

Friday, May 5th

                Jungkook hates himself. Hates how every time he says he’ll call you, he ends up falling asleep. He doesn’t know why; it’s like his heart fights against his body. But tonight, he’s determined to call. He’s been meaning to show you the lights of the Eiffel tower, when the clock strikes midnight, and he promised he will tonight.

You haven’t replied to his text. He’s been feeling you slipping through his fingers for a few weeks. You barely reply when he talks to you anymore, sending one-worded answers most of the time. Maybe that is the reason why he’s been struggling to call – there’s an impending doom lingering around your relationship, and he wants to avoid it for as long as he can.

He’s been replaying your fight earlier last week on repeat since it happened. You, screaming that he said he was going to change, was going to try to call more and make more effort before he went to Paris. Him, telling you that you should be understanding, that he’s doing his best and that most nights he goes to bed before you’ve even finished work. You’d told him sometimes you wished you could hate him, as it’d be easier than loving him from afar. The words struck harder than a physical blow could have, and since then the doom has been clearer in the distance, as if it’s getting closer.

Just thinking about it hurts too much. He can’t wait for his contract with the Louvres to be done. Can’t wait to be home, and to tell you in person just how much he loves you.

He thinks his love has just been growing stronger. Through all the years, it’s just been growing inside of him, making him into a better person with every beat of his heart. The thought brings a smile to his lips, strangely enough, even though there’s still pain in his heart.

He still remembers when you first got Bam. He thinks that day is the one that made his love grow the most, until he thought his heart was going to burst in his chest. It fortunately never did, and he looks at his phone’s background quickly, needing to see you.

There you are, in all your glory. Hair a mess as you hold a tiny puppy in your arm, with your eyes sparkling like they’re holding the light of the universe. Of his universe, and it hasn’t changed. Still, today he knows if he were to see you, you still would hold the light of his universe.

After all, it started a July night seven years ago, and it’s never going to go away.

Thirteen days until he’s going to be home. And he decided to take a longer break this time around – he doesn’t have another contract yet. He’s been approached by the Victoria and Albert museum in London, but he’s told them that he likely won’t be able to go until late October.

They said they’ll be happy to have him whenever his schedule allows.

He’s yet to tell you – it’s a surprise, and he reckons your relationship terribly needs it. And he’s excited, as it means months that he’ll get to spend with you.

He’s going to take some small photography jobs back home until then, and spend the rest of his time with you, whenever you’re not at the firm. He reckons he can always meet you there for lunch – he used to do that when you first got the job at the firm where your father used to work.

Jungkook sighs, and he glances at the time on his phone. It’s almost time to call, and he’s proud he’s been able to stay up, sitting on the balcony of his Airbnb, watching the Eiffel tower in the distance.

The Louvres is paying for the Airbnb, and they really chose one of the best in the city. The view of the tower is beautiful, night and day, the architecture of it satisfying in ways he can barely comprehend. He took pictures of it through the different weathers, and he’s excited to show you when he’ll be back.

Five minutes before the clock strikes midnight, Jungkook lets out a long yawn as he goes to your profile, hitting the Facetime button. He’s told you he would call, up to the very minute, and he doesn’t want to disappoint this time around.

He watches his face on the screen as it rings. It rings and rings, and yet you don’t pick up. Something unsettling grows in his gut, and he pulls at his lip piercing in worry as he calls again when the call claims it failed to connect.

He tries four times more, until the Eiffel tower is sparkling in the distance, and your form still has yet to appear. So he looks up, watches the show and then heads to bed, each of his step feeling heavier than the last.

The next morning, he wakes up to some texts of yours.

[04:21 am] bby <3: sorry, i was out for dinner with friends from work [04:22 am] bby <3: I assume u’re asleep now? [04:41 am] bby <3: good night

For some reason, he can’t bring himself to reply.

Thursday, May 18th

                It’s been raining all week. The world, crying as if it’s coming to an end. It’s unsettling, and you miss the sunrays. Miss the warmth that they carry, because now the world seems void of any.

You’re not looking forward to going home. It’s the first time that the thought of seeing Jungkook is scaring you – you have a feeling the distance between you is more than just physical, and you’re afraid to see him.

Afraid to be faced with the fact that everything changed irreparably.

You’ve slept in his clothes every night of May. It hasn’t made you feel closer to him, has only made you feel like he’s drifting further away, like a piece of wood lost at sea, pulled away by the current. And as much as you long for his return, you fear he’s crossed a threshold now.

You fear you’re not into it anymore.

The thought has made you cry countless times. You never thought you’d get to a moment in life when splitting with Jungkook seemed to be an option. You thought you were made of forever, of an eternity built just for you. You thought he’d always be enough for you, and that you’d always be enough for him too. But when Taehyung and Jo got engaged and said that they’d marry the first weekend of September, you realized that you want that for yourself too.

You want to start growing with your partner, you want them to be around. And Jungkook just isn’t.

You’ve spoken to Jiho about it. A haunting conversation, that you’ve been replaying in your mind constantly since it happened a week and a half ago.

She came over, only to find you cradling the picture of the July night sky, the one Jungkook had given you after his exposition. She sat next to you, tired eyes surveying your profile. When you started crying, she pulled you in a hug, and held you against her chest as you sobbed.

When you calmed down, she ran a soothing hand on your back. She waited for you to patiently find your words, and when you had, they spilled from your mouth, with no dam to stop them anymore.

“I think I’m going to break up with him,” you told her. It had you chasing more tears away, hating the weakness of your heart as it broke in your chest. “I can’t do the distance anymore. I want something like you and Hobi have, like Jo and Taehyung have. I want someone to wake up to every day and… I don’t… I don’t think loving him is enough anymore.”

She offered you a sad smile, her features sober as she nodded once. “Will you regret it?”

A lone tear spilled on your cheek, holding all the answers she needed. You let it roll down your cheek, let it fall in your lap. Jiho nodded once again, understanding, and added, “I’ll be there for you.”

Your decision was made that day. You don’t think you’ll change your mind, but you’re afraid to see him. Afraid to be faced with the reality of it.

The worst part is, you think you already started getting adjusted to living without him. Hell, the distance has been a good training, so you think you’ll be okay after. It’s just the during that scares you, because you know that when he breaks, you break too.

You know how much you broke for him once. You know you’ll break again, know the first days are going to be hell, but you know that in the long term, it’s the right decision.

At least you hope so.

Jungkook texted you that he got home in the middle of the afternoon, and that he was going to take a nap. He said he couldn’t wait to see you, and you’ve had to swallow countless lumps in your throat whenever you’ve thought of the words.

You take a deep steadying breath as your shift ends, leaving you with no choice but to head home. Harrison notices your fallen features, and he offers you a kind smile.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promises.

You want to tell him he’s a liar, but all you do is offer him a tight-lipped smile in return.

*****

                The apartment in soundless when you finally reach home. Outside, the wind plays in the leaves, splashing water against the windows. It makes for a relaxing sound, yet it does nothing to relax you.

You take off your shoes by the door and drop your purse on the small table just a few steps in as Bam comes to greet you. You pet the dog mindlessly, scanning your surroundings to see if Jungkook is coming too, but it seems he fell asleep. You stop by the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water as you survey the world outside the window, hoping it holds any kind of solace. It doesn’t – the world is crying, and you think by the end of the night there’s a high chance you will be crying too.

You sigh, try to swallow around the lump in your throat but it doesn’t work. You choke on a sip of water, and startle when Jungkook asks if you’re okay.

You didn’t hear him sneaking up on you.

You turn around, the sense of impending doom growing tenfold at the thought that he’s going to be right there, in the flesh, when you set your eyes on him. And he is – a sleepy Jungkook is standing in the door of the kitchen, leaning against the frame as he offers you a small, tired smile.

You’re not sure what to do at first, and when he opens up his arms for you you rush towards him, leaving the glass of water on the counter.

His embrace is familiar, warm. If he wasn’t gone for so long, you think it’d be enough to keep you here, forever. You both remain silent, and your heart beats achingly in your chest as you try to hold him closer, as if you can be one.

As if that’ll make him stay.

“Hey,” he says, voice choked with emotion.

You only hold him tighter, and tears burn behind your closed eyelids as you hide your face in his neck. He smells familiar, like home. He smells like the clothes you’ve been wearing in an attempt to gather the courage to break up with him.

You hate yourself deeply, then. You think about the years, and aren’t they enough? Isn’t the love enough?

He grabs your shoulders, delicately, to push you away. And then his hands move to your cheeks, and he’s tilting your head back to press his soft, pink lips against yours. It’s barely just a peck, and it hurts so much you think you’ll die.

“How was work?” he asks when he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

You breathe in slowly, and then out, your breath mingling with his in the space between you. “Long,” you answer, because it’s the truth.

“I’ll cook you dinner,” he says.

If he notices you holding your breath as your heart keeps on breaking, he doesn’t say. Instead, he pulls away, leaves you standing by the door as he moves in the room proper. You’re not sure you’ll survive a dinner with him, not when the inevitability of what you’re going to do is looming over you, like a sword of Damocles ready to cut the link between you and him.

“Okay,” you breathe out.

You sit at the table as he fishes ingredients out of the fridge – stuff you clearly didn’t buy. Which means he went grocery shopping, and you just ache so fiercely the air turns to poison in your lungs.

“Do you want to chop the vegetables?” he asks.

You gulp before nodding curtly. “Sure.”

You move closer to him as he puts said vegetables on the counter, and you grab a knife as he hands you a cutting board. It’s familiar, domestic, and it helps lessen the pain somehow. To have this moment, with him, even though your decision is made.

“You’re silent,” Jungkook comments as you finish dicing an onion.

You purse your lips, head hanging low as you reply, “I’m tired, sorry.”

He turns on the stove, placing a pan on top of it. As he’s putting oil in it, he glances at you. You barely notice from the corner of your eyes, but you still can tell he’s trying to figure how to reach you, in the dark place where your mind has gone.

“Something happened?”

No. Nothing happened. Nothing happened when it should have. Was distance really enough to kill your relationship with him?

Needing the conversation to move away from the current subject, you reply, “Not really.” Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you add, “How was Paris?”

“It sucked,” Jungkook is quick to answer. “It was a lot of work and I barely had time to explore the city.”

“Mmh,” you hum, nodding your head.

You freeze as he moves closer, taking the knife out of your hands. He forces you to turn towards him, and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I took some pictures of the Eiffel tower for you,” he admits. “It was pretty at night. Made me think of you.”

You shut your eyes tight, and for once you win against the tears that were threatening to spill. “You did?” you let out when your eyelids finally flutter open again. “You can show me over dinner.”

“I’d rather just spend time with you for now,” he says, softly, and you hate that his big, doe eyes feel like heaven. “I… I missed you.”

You think he knows. You both know what’s coming. But you want this last moment with him, so you say, “I missed you too. Way too much.”

“You’ve been sleeping in my clothes,” he teases, but it’s lacking the usual lilt to his voice that makes you roll your eyes playfully.

“Yeah.”

He pulls at his piercing, and you focus on that because his eyes are going to read every little treacherous thought in your head, and you don’t think you’d survive that.

He doesn’t say anything else before he busies himself with putting the onion you diced in the pan. You lean on the counter to watch him cook, handing him the ingredients that you know he’ll need.

You’ve cooked together a thousand times before, and never you would have thought that there’d be a last time. You clench your jaw against the pain, and though you don’t feel hungry, you sit at the kitchen table with him to eat.

You manage to get some food down. Jungkook is an amazing cook, and you’ve always loved his food. It’s something you know you’re likely to miss, when he won’t be around anymore.

Fuck.

After dinner, you do the dishes while Jungkook brings Bam outside, as he usually does when he’s here. He’s back before you’re done, and you focus on finishing to clean the dishes, trying to ignore him.

He’s been silent through the meal, and you’ve avoided the glances he’s sent your way. But when he grabs your wrist, gently, you meet his gaze.

His eyes shine. It takes you a few seconds to register that it’s because tears are welling up in his innocent gaze, and you wish you’d die right on the spot.

“Why is it awkward?” he asks.

You purse your lips and then bite the tip of your tongue, as if it’ll help. “Can we go to bed early?”

You don’t know why you asked that question. You convinced yourself to break up right away, but then again you think you need a last time.

You need a goodbye.

He nods, blinking the tears away. His hand moves until it’s wrapped around yours, and he pulls you to the bathroom. He turns on the shower, but before he’s taken his shirt off you step in front of him, fist closing around a handful of fabric so you can pull him close.

There’s urgency in the kiss, along with yearning. It’s quick, it’s heated and desperate. You wonder if he can taste the goodbye on your tongue – does it taste bitter for him too?

Though he seemed startled from the sudden kiss, he’s quick to kiss you back, to grab your waist and pull you closer, as if that’ll make you stay. And while you kiss your mind runs with the memories – the first time you’d kissed, in that hot tub. The kiss on the hotel roof, the kiss after he’d helped you move in your first apartment.

More than that, it’s a memory from four years ago that resurfaces the most. It takes the centerpiece of the stage of your mind, and you find yourself back in your old apartment, the first one you’d ever had. The day wasn’t a special one – just a random Sunday, one Jungkook convinced you to spend in bed. He’d held you all morning, littering small kisses on the top of your head. At some point, you’d made love, slowly, lazily, as if you had all the time in the world. Halfway through it, Jungkook had stopped, resting his forehead on yours. Against your lips, he’d whispered, “Will you still love me when I’m old and grey and grumpy?”

Back then you’d laughed, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. After, you’d replied, “You know I’ll never stop loving you.”

And as you’re kissing him right now, you hope he knows that you’ll never stop loving him.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, seeking to deepen the kiss, and you let him in. Taste the dinner in his mouth, like he’s sure to taste it in yours too. It eases the bitterness somehow, and when his large hands move to your ass, you let out a breathy sound.

He swallows it as if it’s the ambrosia of the gods, and then he pushes you back towards the counter next to the sink. The shower runs in the background as he pulls you on the counter, large hands guiding you. You instinctively spread your thighs to allow him to step closer, and then you wrap your legs around him. His hands find your cheeks again, and he kisses you fervently, hungrily, yet his touch remains gentle on your cheeks, thumbs swiping back and forth.

When oxygen becomes needed, both for you and him, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You think we can wait after the shower?” he teases, and this time it has a little bit of the usual bite.

It only hurts, because now you’re not so sure he’s aware of what’s to come. He probably only thought that it was awkward because of the distance – physical. Not because the end is coming. So you let him believe it, agree to take a shower.

You let him wash your hair, a thing he’s taken to doing six years ago whenever you take a shower together. Something about him liking the scent of your shampoo. After that, you let him wash your back, but you can’t bring yourself to do it for him. To your relief, he admits he took a shower before he napped, to wash away the airplane vibes off him. So it mostly goes unnoticed, and then you’re getting out of the shower. You barely have time to dry yourself before he’s pulling you to your room, to your shared bed.

To the bed where you’ve cried yourself to sleep every night since you’ve made your decision.

He sits you on the bed, thumbs swiping on your cheeks gently when he bends down to peck your lips once.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

You watch him leave, thinking you should find it funny that he’s butt-naked, as you are. Yet you don’t laugh, just put a hand over your aching heart as you wait for him to come back. It hurts even more when he comes back with your heating pad, a tentative smile on his lips.

“I thought this might help,” he says as he walks over to you, offering it to you.

You look at it, not knowing what to do. “Why?”

“Aren’t you…” he trails off, motioning towards you. “I don’t know, you’ve been weird. Thought you might be on your period, or having cramps?”

He’s too sweet. Too caring. Why can’t he be like this when he’s away too?

“Oh,” you let out. “I’m not.”

He looks puzzled, and his eyes drop to the heating pad in his hands. “Oh. Do you…” He gestures with the heating pad, but you shake your head no. He looks disappointed, and he puts it on the dresser before coming to sit next to you.

There’s a moment of silence, and you glance at the TV on the wall. The black screen reflects the grey light from the rainy world outside, and you turn to look out the window next. The rain is still relentless, and the trees outside look greener, darker, though that might be because the sun set behind the clouds, and night is slowly taking over the world.

Being with Jungkook has never been awkward before, and you hate that it is right now. You’d wish for one last moment, for a memory to treasure, but now you think you might have just been selfish.

He glances at you, pulling at his piercing. “Did something happen with your mother?”

He’s trying. So hard. Doesn’t he feel the distance between you and him?

“No,” you reply.

As a matter of fact, you only talk to your mother three times a year now. Without fault, she calls on Christmas and your birthday, and five years ago you’ve started calling on hers too. Other than that, you barely even text.

“Then…” he trails off before shrugging. “Whatever. Do you want to sleep or should we watch something?”

“Can we watch a studio Ghibli movie?”

Jungkook glances at the Totoro plushie, nestled in the pillows at the head of the bed right next to Appa. “My neighbor Totoro?” You nod once. He offers you a smile, nodding his head too. “Sure. As long as I get to hold you.”

You worry at your lip, though you still say, “Yes.”

A minute later you’re nestled in his embrace, and he’s starting the movie on the TV. You barely can focus though, mind zeroing in on his naked skin against yours. You want to ask him to stop with his overseas job, to come home permanently, to build a future with you here, without distance between you and him. You want to tell him you love him so much it hurts, want to tell him the months away from him are killing you.

All you do is watch the movie as if in a daze, and halfway through it, you tilt your head to look up at him. He sees you looking, and his tongue darts to his piercing as he glances down.

Your eyes go to his lips, and you reach to steal a kiss on them. This time, it’s incredibly slow, painfully so, and his arm tightens around you as his breath gets caught up in his throat.

You rest a hand on his cheek, before sliding it to the nape of his neck to keep him as close as you possibly can. He turns his head to deepen the kiss, and you turn the other way as you push your tongue in his mouth. You gently tug at the hair on the back of his neck, appreciating its silky softness.

Committing it to memory. Remembering when it was so long he could tie it back in a small ponytail, remembering when he cut it shorter for the first time. You’d teased him saying that he was a stranger, and you reckon you’d take that stranger back again.

You’d take the sweet innocence of the third year of your relationship again over what it now is.

Once, you thought you’d always want to see the end. To be able to glance back on the past, to swim in the nostalgia of the memories that it holds. Today, as the end comes, you realize you were wrong.

There’s no beauty in the ending.

Jungkook moves until he’s hovering over you, between your legs. You wrap them around his dainty waist, and you pull him inevitably closer as your hands run in his hair, while his hold him up on each side of your face. It takes him a few seconds, but soon he leans on his elbow, and one of his hands lands on the top of your head while the other moves to cup your breast.

He squeezes gently, fingers expertly pinching your nipple the way he knows that you like it. You moan softly, desperately, and he does it harder as his tongue meets yours.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he says as he pulls away, and then he’s littering hot kisses on your jaw, and on your neck. He sucks a hickey on the spot that connects your shoulder to your neck, and then laps at it to ease the sting. He’s still pinching your nipple, and though it hurts you just want more.

He doesn’t disappoint. His kisses move lower, until he’s sucking on your other breast, tongue circling your nipple as it hardens in his mouth. He flicks it once, make sure it’s perched nicely on your chest before he moves to the other one, repeating the action.

Your core heats up with need, but even this demonstration of the passion between you and him doesn’t do anything against the ache of your heart. The pain wins, and you shut your eyes tightly in an attempt to focus on the sensations. To focus on him as he moves lower, slowly, pressing wet kisses on your stomach, down to your pelvis, and then on the inside of your thigh as he pushes your leg on his shoulder.

“I want you,” he murmurs between your legs, as if he’s speaking the words directly to your pussy.

“I want you too.”

That much isn’t a lie. You do want him, all of him, even though you’re aware it’s going to be the last time. So you try to disconnect mind and body, and the moment he sucks on your clit you think you succeed.

You lose your hand in the strands of his hair, tugging as his tongue starts a hellish rhythm on your clit, never once faltering as you squirm under the ministrations. When your juice is coating his chin – which you reckon doesn’t take long – he moves lower, dipping his tongue inside of you.

“So sweet,” he praises once he pulls away, just enough for you to feel his lips moving as he speaks.

“Kook…”

The nickname barely crosses the threshold of your lips, yet the grip he has on your waist, where his hands have found a home, tightens. The only indication that somewhere behind his lustful gaze, Jungkook is aching too.

“Baby…” he says back, and then he returns to press figure-eight on your clit, though this time he pushes a finger inside of you.

It curls to hit the right spot inside of you, and he slowly rubs against it, before he decides better and starts to finger you, slowly. Digit moving in and out, keeping that right arch to make you see stars in no time.

When he adds a second finger, you tug on his hair, hard. Mostly by reflex, but when he meets your gaze as you look down at him, you pull harder. His fingers remain deep inside of you as he meets your lips for a heated kiss that tastes like you, and your hand blindly aims for his dick.

He’s rock hard, as he always is when you fuck for the first time after he’s been away. You sigh in satisfaction, thumb collecting precum on his tip that you spread on his dick. Instinctively, he bucks his hips as you start jerking him off, with the tight grip you know he likes, and you make sure to flick your wrist when you go back up.

He grunts against your lips, and his fingers start to move inside of you again. You don’t know when they stopped, but you know that he’s grown impatient now, and he’s unforgiving. When he pushes his thumb against your clit so that he can rub it at the same time, you moan unashamedly loud, another sound that he swallows like a man starved while his lips move against yours.

You time your ministration on his dick to those of his fingers on you, and soon enough a knot forms at the pit of your stomach. It grows impossibly tight impossibly quickly, and when Jungkook moans in your mouth you lose it, the knot uncoiling as your orgasm finds you.

He fucks you with his fingers through the high, through every wave of your orgasm, your legs shaking as he keeps going until you squirt.

“Good girl,” he praises as you cry out his name, your grip on his dick growing tighter. It has to hurt, but obviously Jungkook likes pain, so he only bucks his hips, seeking for friction.

It brings you back to the present, to this bed, and you return to jerking him off as his fingers leave you empty. He brings them to your mouth, makes you lick them clean until he’s satisfied and pulls them away. He kisses you, languidly, and your tongue dance with his as he grunts from a particularly skilled flick of your wrist.

“I want to suck you,” you say in between kisses, and he doesn’t let you do it for a time.

He’s too focused on your mouth, and you reckon you want him to keep going at it. To trap you in this moment with him, so that it may never end.

So that you may never have to break up with him.

“Can I fuck you first?” he asks, bucking his hips once more. “I want to feel your tight pussy swallowing my cock.”

“I want to suck you,” you insist as he’s sucking a new hickey on your neck.

He pulls away, meets your gaze with a lazy smile on his lips. “Well then of course.”

In another world his comment would have made you laugh, but the only thing it does is make you push him until he’s lying on his back and you’re kneeling next to him.

You look down at his dick. It’s just as pretty as you’ve always thought it was, with the brownish base to the tip that’s currently flushed red with arousal. Precum makes it glisten in the dim light from the world outside, and you let a blob of spit fall on it to add some lubrication to your jerking off.

When you feel ready, you bend down to lick a stripe along his dick, from base to top, following the thick vein. He groans, and he puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail so he can watch as you swirl your tongue around his tip.

The taste of his salty precum fills your mouth, and you hum in contentment. You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking hard once before teasing his frenulum with your tongue. Your free hand moves between his legs, and you grab his balls, massaging them gently.

They’re already tight, and you know he’ll come if you suck him for too long. You still can’t resist, and you take him as far as you can, swallowing around him so he can feel your throat constricting on him. It makes him moan out your name, which in turns makes you moan against him.

“Fuck, baby,” he lets out.

You move up until almost just his tip is in your mouth, before going all the way in once more. And then you start bobbing you head up and down in a quicker fashion as you drool on your chin, your spit coating his dick.

You squeeze his balls once, not daring to do it for longer than a few seconds. You don’t want him to come, so you let go soon after, hand moving to his thigh. You find the hard knot of his scar, and you lightly trace it with your fingers, almost instinctively.

Another part of him that you want to commit to memory. His scars – they made him into the person that was right for you. You hate that distance undid it, wish you could turn back time but alas it’s impossible.

So you focus on his dick, moving your hand away from the scars. He doesn’t let you suck him for a lot longer. Soon, he pulls you away by the hair, bringing you to his mouth instead. You kiss him as you climb on top of him, and right as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, you grab his dick to align it with your entrance.

Even though he fingered you before, he still stretches you as you sink on him, and you let out a broken moan as you dig your nails in his shoulder, where your other hand has been holding you up since you climbed on him.

You sink down until he’s fully imbedded inside of you, and then you rest your hands flatly on his chest, feeling the muscles of his pecs under your palms. You meet his gaze, hating how he’s looking at you carefully. For a moment, you both don’t move, taking the other in, and you’re struck with the realization that maybe he does know. Because his eyes are infinitely sad, infinitely pained, but when he blinks you think you might have imagined it.

You’re going crazy. You used to be able to read him like the back of your hand, but it seems the pain in your heart is keeping you from doing so, from picking up the book where you left off. Perhaps because you’ve gone blind, or maybe you forgot how to read altogether.

Jungkook feels like a stranger.

“Baby,” he lets out.

“Jungkook…”

He wets his lips, and then brings you closer. Forces you to bend down until he’s wrapped his arms around your waist. He starts moving, incredibly slow, and says, “I just want you close.”

It hurts too bad, and you hide your face in his neck. He tightens his grip around you, and after that all that can be heard in the room is your heavy breathing, mingling with the sound of the TV.

He feels healing, as much as he’s breaking you. Or you’re breaking yourself, you don’t know anymore. You wish to stop time, to interrupt the chronology of it, until all that’s left is this moment in time.

You know you can’t.

Jungkook doesn’t stop moving for a long time, as you let out breathy sounds against his neck. He’s not grunting anymore – you don’t think you or he are enjoying this, right now.

“I really want to suck your dick,” you murmur against his neck, lips tickling him.

“You’re not into this.”

Of course he’d sense it. You wrap your arms around his neck as he slips out of you, and you refuse to move for a little eternity.

“I’m okay,” you lie.

“Stop saying that you are,” Jungkook answers, and his voice has taken a cold tone. Maybe because he’s freezing – you don’t think he’d purposefully speak to you like that. “I know you aren’t.”

“Kook…”

He says your name, a loving plea that could have changed the ending, if the months hadn’t passed.

“We need to talk,” you breathe against his neck.

You think you hear his heart breaking. Like a car wreck: it’s so loud you don’t think you’ll make it out of the crash. Only, he did get out of it once – you can only hope he’ll get out again.

He runs his hand on your back, loses it in your hair. He’s gentle, infinitely so, tracing your body to remember you by when you’re gone. At least that’s what you think it is.

“Yeah?” he lets out with a small, quivering voice.

A tear spills from your eye, falling onto the soft skin of his neck.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

He holds you tighter, turning his face so that he can press a kiss to the side of your head. It’s a desperate move – it holds the weight of the universe.

“I…”

He never finishes the sentence. His words are lost to him, and you steel yourself for the glimpse you’ll give him. And when you do, you see his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I can’t do the distance anymore,” you tell him.

He nods once. “I’m staying until November.”

He blurs behind your tears, and they roll down your cheeks freely. You don’t try to dry them, and neither does he.

“But then you’ll go again.”

He doesn’t need to say anything to that, because you both know it to be the truth. His reply is physical: his arms let go of you, falling on the bed on each side of him.

You move to sit next to him, instinctively grabbing a blanket to hide yourself. Jungkook shuts his eyes before pressing the heel of his palms against his eyelids. As if that’ll stop him from crying, from shattering into thousands of little shards that will go by the wind.

The end has come. It’s upon you, it’s right this instant in time. You think you’ll forever hate this moment – will you ever recover?

“It’s just better for both of us,” you say, your voice breaking into a sob on the last words. You wish you could be stronger, but you break too hard for him. “It’s been so hard and… we both don’t try anymore.”

“I’m staying until November,” he repeats. He sounds choked, and when he pushes himself up, allowing you a glimpse of his face again, you see that he too is crying. “Please.”

“Kook…”

“No but…” he stops, laughs a laugh that turns into a sob. “I tried.”

“You didn’t.”

Maybe he did. Maybe to him he did, but it wasn’t what you needed.

“You don’t get to tell me I didn’t,” he says and he scoffs, pain laced with his next words. “When I tried, you were the one that was unavailable.”

Because you were already done then, you realize. It’s a startling realization, and you wish it wasn’t real. But it is, as real as the rain lashing at the window, as the agony in Jungkook’s gaze.

His doe eyes are pained, tormented, and you wish you could ease it. Comfort him, but you’re the source of the torture now.

“Yeah,” is all you manage to say.

He looks at you for a time, holds your crying eyes, and then he loses it, hiding his face in his hands as sobs rock through him. You’re shaking like a leaf where you’re sitting, and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“We can make it work,” he tries.

You’re shaking your head no, sobs racking through you too, when he glances at you. “We can’t. We tried, Kook. We tried and it didn’t work.”

“It’s the distance,” he says. He dries his cheeks, sniffles hard. “What if I drop the job?”

“It’s your dream,” you remind him. “Don’t.”

“I don’t give a shit about this dream if it means losing you,” he insists.

Your expression is apologetic, and suddenly your eyes clear up. Too much – the clarity in your mind feels dizzying.

“It’s too late.”

The words fall like a meteorite – you think they hit harder than the one that killed the dinosaurs, millions of years ago. They hit him so hard you think they disperse the pieces of his heart to the four corners of the Earth.

You want to be selfish, you want to keep a piece of him for yourself, to remember him by, but you let him go. You have to, if you want to make it out alive.

“Come on,” he pleads. “We’ve been through so much…”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “I know.”

There’s finality in your voice, and he hears it just as well as you do. You think he’ll fight more – Jungkook never backs down from a challenge – but to your surprise he goes incredibly still.

“Nothing I can do or say will make you stay, huh?”

You shut your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He goes cold then – like hell. Empty, freezing over, and he steps out of bed to grab some clothes in his luggage that he’s yet to unpack. You watch him, watch the last tears on his cheeks falling as he bends down. No new ones join them – he’s retracted somewhere inside of himself, probably in an attempt to protect himself. You’re not sure he’s aware of the coping mechanism, but you can recognize it.

He was in that same place when you met him again the year after his accident, before you started dating. Once, he told you that you were the one to rescue him from it.

Who will rescue him now?

You start crying again, and you force yourself to get out of bed. To grab some clothes as he’s zipping his luggage after getting dressed.

“Stop,” you tell him. “I already have plans to go stay with Bridget and Heather.”

He stops moving, and then slowly gets up. He glances at the door of the bedroom. Bam is looking through the small gap, and he gently pushes on the door to open it wider.

“What about the dog?” Jungkook asks, sounding so detached you can barely recognize him.

It breaks you even more. You’re selfish – you wish he’d fight more. You wish he’d convince you to stay, but now he looks like he doesn’t even care anymore.

You probably deserve it.

“You can keep him,” you say, as you struggle to put your clothes on, hands trembling so much it makes you lose your fine motricity. “When you-“ A sob breaks the sentence. “When you leave again I can take him in.”

Jungkook nods, and then he glances towards the television. The movie is still playing, yet it’s nearing the end now.

Everything comes to an end.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses loudly, and he moves to the bed, grabbing the remote so he can turn the TV off. He then looks at the bed. “You’re leaving with those?”

“Jungkook…”

“You’re fucking leaving with them?”

He’s motioning to Totoro and Appa, and you cry some more as you nod. “Okay. Yes. I’ll come back later for the rest.”

“Okay.”

There’s an immense silence then, as you finish putting your clothes on. As you go to the closet, where you’ve already packed a duffel bag with stuff for a week. Jungkook scoffs when he sees it, and it almost makes your legs give out under you.

“You weren’t going to give me a chance, were you?” he asks bitterly, reproachfully.

“My decision was made,” you answer with a small voice. “I just… it’s too hard.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

You know Jungkook often hurts others when he himself is in pain. It’s something he said he didn’t want to do anymore, a side of him he told you he hates. You’re not surprised to see it come to the surface right now – you don’t think he’s ever gotten his heart broken like this before.

So you’re not surprised when he adds, “We should have broken up when we fought on the phone. Because why was I so fucking stupid to think you still loved me?”

Your heart breaks. It’s been breaking, but now it’s different. Burning, throbbing pain takes over the beating organ, and you struggle to breathe. The air is boiling in your lungs, and it’s so fierce you feel it in every inch of your body.

“I do,” you tell him. “It’s not because I don’t love you…”

He laughs. He bursts out laughing, and it’s a little crazed, a little scary. “Right. Yeah. Tell that to yourself.”

In that instant, you remember when you’d told him you loved him for the first time. At his art exhibit, choked on emotions you thought you’d always know. You don’t know them anymore, but he’s wrong.

You’ll always love him.

“Kook…”

“Will you fucking stop calling me that?” he asks, and he finally meets your gaze again.

“Sorry…”

He sighs loudly, tongue poking at his cheek. “Are you leaving now?”

It’s weird – the way he says it reminds you of your mother when she kicked you out years ago. It reminds you of the early days with Jungkook and you don’t think you can move. You’re stuck in the spot where you’re standing, watching him as he watches you.

When his gaze breaks and he lets out, “Please”, you finally start moving.

First to the bed, to grab Appa and Totoro, and then towards the door.

You push the door open, and Bam wags his tail as you walk out. You’re crying again – you’re not sure you ever stopped – but the sight of the dog makes everything worse. Because it’s not only Jungkook you’re losing, it’s Bam too.

It’s your life. You’re losing everything that matters to you, in an attempt to save yourself. In an attempt to find something better for yourself, something that won’t ache for months at a time like being with Jungkook now does.

“Hey, Bamie,” you say, and you hold the plush toys away as he tries to bite into Appa’s paw. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You bend, and you let the dog lap at your cheek, as if he can dry your tears. When he stops to look at you curiously, head tilted to the side, you press a kiss to the top of his head. You can’t move for a time and, as if sensing it, Bam remains entirely still too.

He only moves when you stretch, and it’s to press his body against your legs, as if trying to stop you from leaving. Tears cascade down your face, and you tell him you’re sorry, too. You repeat that you’ll see him soon again, hoping that it’ll help, and then you’re walking around him. Walking towards the door, walking towards the crying world outside.

Jungkook follows behind, silent as ever, hands lost in the pockets of his sweatpants, eyes lost in the void. You put down your stuff by the door, put on a light coat and grab your keys. You store them in your coat pocket, and then head to the door, to put on your shoes.

Every step feels like lead, like death, and you just keep crying. It only stops when you meet Jungkook’s gaze, when you’re ready to leave.

Or as ready as you’ll ever be.

“So that’s it?” he asks.

“That’s it,” you agree, and you wish you didn’t. Wish those weren’t the words you said.

He nods once, looking like he’s burdened with a great fatigue. “Alright.”

You want to scream at him to say more, but he doesn’t. Only stays silent as he looks at you, doe eyes so big. His waterline is wet again, and he’s got red splotches all over his face. He’s fighting the tears this time around and you wish you’d give him a reprieve, wish you’d be able to leave but, once again, you’re rooted in your spot.

Maybe because you still have more to say.

“Thank you for…” You pause, take a deep, shaking breath in. “Thank you for the years. I had a lot of fun with you.”

“Please go.”

You nod once, and then you turn around. It occurs to you that your hands are full, and you look at the doorknob as if it’s foreign. Jungkook must have noticed, because he steps forward, his hand reaching for it.

He stills halfway there, with his arm right next to you. And then you hear him choke on a sob, and you drop what you’re holding to face him, to pull him into a hug.

You don’t know how long you cry, holding onto each other like this. Because the moment you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist, Jungkook wrapped his around your shoulders, and he hid his face in your hair.

You cry and cry, together. The last thing you’ll ever do together, you reckon. You wish it wasn’t the case, wish the ending was still at the end a very long road, but it’s come short tonight and it’s too late to stop now.

You break against him, holding him. He’s shaking in your arms, as much as you’re shaking in his. Both of you trembling leaves in the wake of your end. And then you fall to your demise, carried away by the wind.

You don’t know when you let go of him. Only come to your senses when you’re in bed, sometime between dusk and dawn, away from him.

You’re never going to hold him again.

Teaser | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Pain. I'm crying again from rereading one last time before posting. Please don't hate me oop- let me know what you think of the fic! Did we like it, even though it hurts? All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

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[dorims]

last christmas (i gave you my heart).

gif creds @/fightingdragonswithwho

pairing. roman roy x reader

wc. 1.6k

genre. fluff

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise. for a change, maybe spending christmas away from his family would do him good. you can only hope he agrees.

tags. NOT beta-ed(?), english isn't my first language // established relationship (fiancee/married, i havent decided yet lol), brief mention of alcohol, allusion to roy family dynamics, roman and reader are the only characters in this one

a/n. idc that its march and the fact im not big on christmas either, this one really fun to write! hope you enjoy

“So,” You test the waters, lathering the bristles of your toothbrush with the bubblegum toothpaste in the process. In tune with the routine you had wordlessly established, you locked eyes with him through the mirror. Not before letting your eyes roam over his relaxed figure of course. Surprisingly intimate, you would describe the way he liked to watch you while you finished your nightly routine. He would look so painfully comfortable, maybe even serene, as he let his body rest against the doorframe as his eyes lidded with perpetual fatigue, took in the mundanity of watching you lather your face with creams and face wash.“I’ve been thinking.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, though it sounded more like a stifled laugh. “That's new, how's that going for you?"

“Funny.” The foam in your mouth was of no help at conveying the faux annoyance, balancing out the deadpan you sported with a dose of conveniently muffled speech. Not intimidating at all, it only caused his grin to grow wider. And contagious as always, you leaned over the sink to spit the toothpaste in an attempt to hide a smile of your own, though the thick layer of adoration in your eyes gave it away. 

“I’m just saying,” he raised his hands in mock surrender, finally walking inside to lean against the marble counter right next to you. “I only wanna know how it feels to lose your, you know, thinking virginity after giving no signs of brain activity for how long? Like—“

“You can tell yourself how it feels when you lose it.”

“Oh you want to fuck my brain so bad—“

“I’ve been thinking,” You cut him off with an amused smile, taking him in once more. Big round eyes shone with mischief along a hint of sheepishness as he noticed you looking at him. Really looking at him under the vanity lights with messy hair from running his hands through the strands all day and finally wearing the matching pajamas set you had gotten for him in a pretty navy blue because wearing a matching set made you feel good and you wanted him to feel the same way. Always. 

“You've been thinking…” he rolled his eyes as if to hold back another quip now that you had restarted the conversation. The pinkish hue you were so familiar with made a small appearance as you let your fingers brush over his, gently coaxing him to intertwine his hands with yours. Not that he needed much convincing, though. 

“We should spend Christmas this year with my family.”

At the beginning of your relationship, you were sure he would’ve pulled his hand out of your grasp. You could see the way he had to swallow down the urge to do so from the pensive furrow of his brows while the side of his brain in charge of his critical thinking tried to convince him that your words weren’t an attack on his family. He was still working on it, the lousy therapy sessions here and there helped a little, but he still found himself opening his mouth to complain.

“I know what you’re gonna say but think about it, Romeo.” Thankfully, you took the steering wheel before he could start. “My family loves you and we haven’t spent Christmas with them in like, ever, actually.”

Which wasn’t his fault, and you made sure to tell him so, leaning closer until your knee touched his and giving him a quick peck on his lips before he could protest.

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. It was nice to exist alongside the people that Roman loves, the people he grew up around. Watching him interact with his siblings could be endearing. So much so that sometimes you wished you could record their banter and laughter so he could listen back and for a moment picture that things between them were okay. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise.

“Every year we celebrate in a different place,” you toyed with the idea in front of his eyes like one would a cat’s toy, using your smile to build momentum to the grand reveal that at this point didn’t even sound grand to you. “last Christmas was Italy and this year we’re doing Greece.”

“Since when do you have a house in Greece?” He asked, toying with your fingers as his gaze locked itself on them. It was a good sign he was asking.

“We don’t,” the sound of your animated chuckle helped to loosen his shoulders. Though it didn’t dissipate his slight confusion, it always felt good to have you close like this. “It’s Kelly’s house— eh, her parents’ but sharing is caring or whatever…”

He let out a chuckle of his own. The sound made all sorts of warmth bloom in your chest, maybe even cute aggression if you felt like being dramatic. 

“And after we can spend New Year's just the two of us wherever you want.” He shrugged in a silent response, still pensive, and you couldn’t help but coo at him as if to coax him out of his shell. “It’s gonna be so much fun, they’ve been asking about us and the kids adore you, they’ve been obsessed with Uncle Roro ever since Lizzie’s birthday.”

“As they should be, my lower back never recovered from being used as a human jungle gym.” He rolled his eyes at the memory yet the love was evident from behind the thinly veiled sarcasm. He was a very particular individual but so were most of your siblings-in-law. And sure, the first time he met your family hadn’t gone as he expected, both in a good way and in a bad way, but your mother still asked him to join him for a glass of whiskey whenever they crossed paths with a welcoming smile and your father always hugged him in greeting like he did all his children. 

“You’re good with them,” You smiled against his lips as you leaned closer for a kiss, leaving a couple of pecks that eventually made him smile too. “you’ve always been good with kids.” 

“Yeah whatever, stop kissing me my breath stinks.” 

The way your brothers had instantly included him in their weird boys' night out, which was ruled by the obnoxiously corny motto ‘what happens in boys' night, stays in boy’s night’ that was used as a smoke screen for that one time they decided to go to the spa to never be taken seriously again once they swallowed their own stupidity, left you grinning for a week straight. And let's not start with the picture you had taken during a summer trip to Nice of all the daughters-in-law posing like they were celebrating their high school prom with Roman at the front of the line, it had been all laughter all throughout; the picture came out a little blurry. 

It’s all you could think about sometimes when you watched him doing nothing interesting in particular with a lovesick intensity only rivaled by his. How well he fits in your life, with the quips and interjections that kept you company and next to you on your shared bed. With both your slippers sitting neatly side by side and with the unmeasurable love pooling at the bottom of his chest that he had finally allowed himself to unabashedly share after who knows how long. 

“Can you pass me your headband? I need to wash my face.”

He insisted yours was better every time you told him he should buy one of his own. Even if he hadn’t tried any other than yours. You only let it pass because he looked cute with his hair pushed back. No other reason at all. 

“So,” you cut yourself by giving him a peck on the lips as he got closer to steal some face wash. He had his own on his side of the bathroom but the bottle was pretty much full and yours still ran out quicker than when it was just you. “Greece or no Greece?”

“I got chills, they’re multiplying.” He joked right before rinsing the soap from his face, chuckling at your lack of amusement. “What? You prefer right now there’s nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside?”

“I prefer you answer my question.” 

The eyes of a kicked puppy on full display just put him out of his misery vibes, pleaded in silence as he dragged his feet across the floor until he was standing right in between your legs, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. He fit nicely against your body and instinctively you let your fingers brush along the strands of his hair. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go.” 

He groaned in response, his voice muffled against your skin. “It’s not that, I want to, I just— I already RSVP or whatever bullshit to my Dad.”

No one RSVP’ed to Logan Roy. Especially not his children. It wasn’t necessary when the table was already set for all parties involved regardless of conflicting schedules 

“That’s okay,” You kiss his hair, resting your cheek against his head and muffling your own voice. The vibrations made him hum. “I can talk to him.”

The disheveled strands tickled your skin as he shook his head. Now that his chin was resting on your chest you noticed how cartoonishly slow he was blinking, his lids heavy the weight of being awake for far too long. 

“I’ll talk to him.” He pressed a kiss against the side of your jaw, feeling the unmistakable excitement of your grin, before hiding the yawn that followed. “Tomorrow, I promise.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Got Me Thinking

Part 2: Late Nights and Spousal Confessions

Synopsis: Not wanting the night to end, Jack quickly asks to spend more time with you. Little did the two of you know that it would end up being a therapy session about your marriages to other people.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Read Part 1 First

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Jack continued to look at you in disbelief before the biggest smile broke out on his face as he quickly embraced you.

Your arms immediately went around his neck as you felt him pick you up so your feet were hovering above the ground as he hugged you tighter.

“Are you really here right now?” He asked as he whispered in your ear and you simply nodded before responding to him.

“I am and you can thank your little brother for that.”

“And to answer your question, yes. I did miss you, more than you know.”

“Well if I would have known that you two would be this excited to see each other, I would have done it sooner.” Clay mumbled and the two of you couldn't help but laugh. Jack placed you back on your feet before his left hand went to cup your face as his right started to play with the ends of your hair. Something that he used to do when the two of you were younger so it was obvious that old habits die hard.

“And that's who he let get away? Look at how they're looking at each other! Jack hasn't acknowledged anyone else since he's seen her. He doesn't even look at his own wife like that.” Ace said to Clay who simply nodded in agreement.

“That's who he should have been with and stayed with from the beginning.”

“Agreed.”

The party consisted of Jack and Urban making their rounds and mingling with all of their guests, but one thing that didn't happen was you leaving Jack's side. You had been basically glued to him for the entire night and you could tell that your presence was giving him a sense of comfort. Just like before when the two of you were together.

When it got close to about 2 in the morning, people were starting to wind down and leave and since Clay brought you, he quickly asked when you would be ready to leave, but Jack jumped in before you could say anything.

“I'll take her home, don't worry about it. We have a lot to catch up on.” He said while turning to you and smiling.

“I figured, but I thought I would ask anyway.” Clay said while smiling at the sight in front of him. He didn't even know the last time that he saw his older brother so happy and he was hoping that it would stay that way and the two of you would end up together like everyone wanted.

No one had really mentioned or brought up the fact that Jack's wife, better known as Kelsey, hadn't even shown up to her own husband's birthday party but it was clear that Jack did not care one bit. His attention and focus had been on you the entire time and you were low key happy that you didn't have to compete for it with someone else.

The two of you were now settled into Jack’s Jeep and he simply looked over at you and smiled.

“I literally just cannot believe you’re here right now.”

“I actually wasn’t going to come, but Clay convinced me.” You said being completely honest as he began to drive.

“What? Why?”

“I didn’t think that you would have wanted to see me.”

“What the? It’s not like we ended on a bad note. Besides, I literally always ask your mom about you anytime that I see her. That just happens to be a lot since you know our moms have been inseparable since we began dating and haven’t let up since.”

“Very true. Any time I talk to her and ask her what she’s doing she says she’s with Maggie.”

“I don’t want to take you home just yet, if that’s okay.” Jack said, looking straight ahead as he was coming to a red light.

“Hmm, we can go to Waffle House, they’re still open.”

Once the two of you reached Waffle House and got settled into a booth in the back, you knew that Jack was bound to ask you about being married and you were just waiting for it. You both scanned the menu in a comfortable silence before he spoke up.

“So……”

“So…..” You said back to him as both of you let out laughs.

“Tell me everything. What’s been going on with you?”

“Well, I did end up going to nursing school and did that for a little while before I decided to go back and get my CRNA.”

“Damn, I knew my girl was smart. I remember you telling me that you wanted to do that. That’s anesthesia right?” Your heart instantly fluttered when you heard him call you his girl.

“It is, I didn’t think that you would remember.”

“I remember everything about my first love. Including how she didn’t think my full name was Jackman and decided to call me Jackson instead and it stuck.”

You immediately busted out laughing remembering the conversation that the two of you had with you both going back and forth debating on what Jack’s real name was. And you legit asked Maggie to see his birth certificate which she laughed about.

“And to this day, you are the only person allowed to do that.”

“But I love Jackman better. It makes you unique.” You replied as you looked back down at the menu and was deciding on what you wanted to drink.

“What else has happened? You live in Cali now, right?”

“Yeah, I live in Calabasas and have been there for about six years. I like it…. At times.”

Just then the two of you were interrupted by your waiter who you looked up to see was Ms.Isabella. She was the manager and worked here for as long as you two could remember.

“Well isn’t it my favorite nurse and my favorite rapper?!”

“Ms. Isabella, respectfully, don’t you only know like five of my songs? How am I your favorite rapper?” Jack asked joking with her, but all she did was laugh and roll her eyes at him.

“I’ve been to enough concerts to know more than five songs. Anyway, you two aren’t married yet?” She asked and both of you looked like deer caught in headlights, but you quickly recovered.

“Ms. Isabella we’re both married, but not to each other.” You asked and all she did was try to hide the obvious smirk that was about to be displayed on her face. She had definitely been talking to your mother and knew what she was doing.

“Oh, what a shame. Anyway, all I know is that I remember the two of you always being in here when you were younger and being inseparable. Especially when both of you would be drunk and trying to sober up before you went home. A secret that I shall keep from both of your mother’s forever. Anyway, what are we drinking? Orange juice?”

“That’s fine.” Jack quickly said as she nodded her head to walk towards the counter.

When she walked away, it was slightly awkward and you knew for a fact that he was about to ask you now.

“So, how long have you been married?” He asked while looking down and drumming his fingers on the table.

“This year will be three years.” You quietly answered and Jack nodded his head. One of the first things he noticed was your wedding ring when he had first laid eyes on you and seeing it in person made his heart drop. He knew that you were, but was wishing deep down that it wasn’t true.

“What’s his name?”

“Xavier.”

“Does… he treat you well?”

You hesitated on answering that simply because you knew the type of person that Jack was. Even though he wasn’t one to care for confrontation, when it came to you he didn’t care. He would probably have no problem hoping on a plane and going to Cali in order to beat his ass for what he had done to you.

“That’s…. A loaded question. Umm…”

“Y/N, I’m not trying to pry and you only have to tell me what you feel comfortable with me knowing. But the look on your face is telling when I asked about him.”

“It’s just complicated.”

“Marriage can be difficult sometimes, but it shouldn’t be complicated if the two people involved work together.”

“I… I married a wonderful person who I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, but about ten months ago his true colors started to show and I don’t think that I can stomach being married to a person like that much longer.”

“Did he put his hands on you? Because….” Jack asked with his voice slightly raising and you immediately shook your head no and placed your hand on top of his in order to get him to calm down.

“No, nothing like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise. It’s nowhere near that.”

“Then, what is it?”

“He’s been cheating on me for a year and got another woman pregnant.”

Jack’s mouth was now hanging wide open as he looked at you dumbfounded.

“And does he know that you know this?”

You just shook your head no and sighed.

“I… you know that you deserve better than that.”

“I know, I’m just trying to stack my money to be able to get a divorce and get away from him. I already opened up a bank account that he has no idea about.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Jack quietly said as he saw your eyes watering. Bottom line was you still loved Xavier despite what he had done to you and you absolutely hated yourself for it.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, just a little while longer. Now onto you, tell me all that there is to know about Kelsey. I thought I was going to meet her tonight. How’s married life treating you?” Even though you had heard from multiple people about how Jack was miserable in his marriage, you needed to hear it come straight from him.

“Hmm, not a lot to tell.”

“What in the world is that supposed to mean?”

When Jack was once again quiet, you could still read him like an open book despite how many years had passed.

“You regret it.” You quietly said and he just looked at you.

“How can you know exactly what I’m thinking without me having to say anything and you’re in tune with my feelings when my wife can’t even do that?”

“I can read you like a book, Jackman. I’ve always been able to. You can be completely silent like just now and I…. why do you regret it?”

“I’ve recently found out some things about her that I didn’t know before and it makes me think that I truly don’t know her at all and I rushed into this.”

Ms. Isabella interrupted the two of you as she sat both of your drinks down and was waiting for the two of you to order.

“I'll take the all star breakfast.”

“Me too.” You quietly said as you handed her your menu and she simply shot both of you a smile before walking away.

“So, Clay telling me that you were miserable in your marriage wasn't a lie?”

“I… I know he's just trying to look out for me but it's not a lie. I definitely care about her to a certain extent and don't want anything bad to happen to her but….”

“Then do what you have to do in order for you to have a peace of mind.”

“I want to give it time seeing as it hasn't even been a year yet and the fact that the amount of people that would be telling me ‘I told you so’ would be endless.”

“Don't worry about them. As long as you're happy, that's the important part.”

“True.”

“Besides, I’m here for you and will support you with whatever you decide.”

“I appreciate that. Now that I got you back I'm definitely not letting you go again.”

It was around seven in the morning when the two of you finally pulled in front of your parent's house and you weren't afraid to admit that you were sad that the night was coming to an end.

When the two of you had left Waffle House, you both decided to watch the sunrise for old times sake since that was something that the two of you would do often when you two were together.

You were excited that he was now back in your life and was hoping that it would be for the long haul.

“I hope you had an amazing birthday.” You said as the two of you were now standing outside of his Jeep.

“I did because I got the best birthday gift that I could have ever asked for, like Clay said. I appreciate you for coming and I'm happy that I got to see you. It's been way too long.”

“It has.”

“How long are you staying?”

“About another week.”

Jack simply nodded as he grabbed your hand and started rubbing small circles on the back of it.

“Block out some time for me?”

“For you? Always. You never have to ask.” You answered as you smiled up at him which he quickly returned before bringing you into a hug.

“I missed you so much and that is probably all you're going to hear me say over the next week.”

“I don't mind because I missed you too.” You responded as the two of you finally pulled away.

“Go and get some sleep and I’ll call you later.” Jack said as he reached down to kiss your forehead and then your cheek which was dangerously close to your mouth, but you brushed it off and thought nothing of it.

“Okay.”

“Since we now have an audience.”

You looked behind you to see your brother looking out of the window on the second floor as your sister and your parents were looking out of the window that was in the living room and you immediately groaned as Jack laughed. Your mom looked to be on the phone and you knew for a fact that she was talking to Maggie and giving her a play by play.

“I'm probably hitting the studio later. You want to come?”

“Hmm, I think I can clear my schedule for you.”

“Then it's a date.”

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XVI)

Surprise visitor

TW: strangulation, choking, strangling

Part one // Masterpost // continued from here

~*~*~*~*~*~

The commute home was quiet for the most part, uneventful. Kit wore headphones to silence the world around him and let his mind go blank as he stepped out from the underground into the cool night air. The sky was halfway through its change, streaks of purple and red striking through the slowly darkening blues. Kit’s breath reflected back at him on the air, and he pulled his jacket tighter around him as he walked up the steps to his apartment.

Thoughts of a warm shower and dinner was tantalising as he unlocked his door and stepped in, pocketing his keys. He didn’t get a chance to close the door when his head was slammed again the wall. Kit cursed, clicking his fingers as electricity pulsed around his hand like a glove.

He swung his hand out blindly, hoping he’d hit his attacker. His attacker stepped back, to avoid Kit’s wild swing or because Kit managed to land a blow, Kit didn’t know or care as he stumbled further into his apartment. His eyes searched the darkness futilely, with a click of his fingers his lights came on and he was faced with the familiar dark eyes of Ambrose.

He was dressed in his usual suit, crisp and free of any wrinkles or creases. He wore a white shirt and a red tie today, a five o’clock shadow covering his jaw that somehow made his dark hair and eyes look darker.

Kit’s lip curled back as he threw his hands wide. “What the fuck! How did you even get in here?!”

Ambrose’s lips moved, but Kit couldn’t hear what he said over Bring me the Horizon playing at top volume in his ears. Kit’s anger dissipated as a realisation came over him and he laughed right in Ambrose’s face.

“Hey Rosey, can’t give me commands if I can’t hear you, dickhead.”

Ambrose tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes as Kit stuck his middle finger up at Ambrose. “Get out of my house, or I’ll give you electro-shock therapy free of charge.”

Take off your headphones, Mallory.

The command was like a snake made of ice slithering through his brain, his body reacting before his mind became aware of the order. Ambrose smiled as Kit’s expression turned sour.

Did you forget that I don’t need your ears to make you obey me, Kit? I just need your mind.

“Fucking show off,” Kit muttered, turning his headphones off and discarding them on his couch. He took off his jacket and did the same, deflating as his prospects of a nice quiet evening and a shower dissipated with his guest’s arrival. “I had a long day. Sue me.”

“Still, you forget your manners around me, Kit,” Ambrose said, beginning to remove his tie from his neck. Sensing the direction Ambrose was about to go down, Kit clicked his fingers quickly and was only starting to raise his hands when Ambrose ordered: “don’t move.”

Kit tried with everything in him to fight the order that settled thick over his body like cement, locking his limbs in place. His hands still sparked with electricity as Ambrose undid the knot of his tie, starting towards Kit.

“Listen, Rosey, I know you’re into some kinky shit, but doesn’t it have to be consensual? I get it, I’m a good-looking guy—”

“Stop talking.” Kit’s lips wired shut and all he could do now was glare up at Ambrose as he stopped in front of him. Ambrose smirked down at him. “You’re so much more palatable this way, Kit. You should consider never speaking again.”

You’re such a dick, Kit thought as loudly as possible, pointing it straight into Ambrose’s mind. Ambrose didn’t reply, his smirk staying on his face as he wrapped his tie around Kit’s neck. He looped it, once, twice and pulled it tight until Kit made a noise in the back of his throat, his breath getting slightly more laboured.

Kit glared at him as Ambrose said: “you may speak.”

“You piece of sh—” Ambrose pulled the tie even tighter until it cut off Kit’s words and tied a knot to secure it properly.

Ambrose chuckled as Kit coughed, his breath catching as Ambrose wrapped the loose end of his tie around his palm.

“Now,” Ambrose hummed, pressing a hand to Kit’s shoulder. “On your knees.”

“Are you serious?” Kit barked, his voice coming out harsh and breathy. Kit fought his shaking legs that ached to obey Ambrose’s order, glaring up into two dark eyes.

“As the plague, you need to learn respect, Kit. Which is why, from now on,” Ambrose grabbed Kit’s face with two hands, forcing Kit to look into his eyes that were enthralling and far too intense to look away from. “When you see me, you will fall to your knees.”

This time Kit dropped like an anchor, his knees smacking off the ground was the least of his concern. Ambrose yanked up on the tie and Kit was choking as his airways were cut off from oxygen. Kit wanted to reach up and claw at Ambrose’s arms; to try and relieve the pressure on his throat but his arms were still locked to his sides. His electricity cackled with his panic before weakening to dull sparks and dissipating altogether.

“See? This just feels right,” Ambrose hummed above him. “You would have the women flocking around you if you just shut up for once in your life. You look almost decent when you’re not running your mouth.”

Kit fought his way through a coughing reply. “Fuck… yo—ou—ou—.”

Ambrose yanked the tie harder and Kit airway was cut off completely. Kit gasped, struggling to breathe trying to pull in air through his nose but there was nothing coming. All thoughts left his mind replaced by a blinding, hot panic.

Kit’s desperation was plain on his face, pleading with Ambrose to let him breathe, but one glance at Ambrose’s coal-like eyes and he knew there would be no mercy.

“I can wait until you pass out and we can try this again, or you can submit to me, and we can move on. It’s your choice, dog. Blink twice if you’ve had enough.”

Kit glared up at him, trying desperately to hold out but his face was going purple, and he thought his head was going to explode. Hating himself, Kit blinked twice, and Ambrose stopped pulling on the tie.

“You can move,” Ambrose told him. No sooner had the words left his mouth that Kit fell forward, hands hitting the floor, gasping bucketfuls of air into his scorched lungs. He choked on the air as it overwhelmed his airways, falling further to rest on his forearms and knees, wheezing as he tried to collect himself.

“You-ou-ou,” Kit wheezed, punctuated by short coughs between, “fuck-king ah-arsehole.”

“Oh, stop flirting, Mallory,” Ambrose said waving the comment away.

Kit satisfied at the amount of oxygen he had now pushed himself back up to his knees. One hand on the floor he began to push himself up again, but Ambrose interjected: “ah-ah-ah. Stay on your knees, good dog.”

Kit wiped the tears from his face, sharpening his gaze to a glare. “I hate you.”

“Standing privileges are earned, Kit. Someone has to teach you manners now that your only parental figure is indisposed.”

Kit’s heart thrummed in his chest, a quick flash of anxiety and hurt at the easy comment. “You—” he began but no other words came to him as humiliation crawled hot and red up his neck and flooded his face.

“I?” Ambrose asked with a shit eating grin, sitting down in Kit’s favourite armchair and spreading out as if it were a throne.

Kit looked away from his coal-like eyes and turned his attention to removing Ambrose’s tie. Until Ambrose stopped him again. “Don’t touch your leash, doggie.”

“Quit calling me a dog!” Kit barked, running a shaky hand through his hair because he couldn’t do anything else.

“I’ll call you whatever I like, Mallory. That’s the beauty of being me. If you want to stop me, then stop me. If you want to disobey, then disobey.”

“I can’t,” Kit spat through gritted teeth.

Ambrose spread his hands in a shrug. “Well, that’s not my problem, is it?”

“It’s your orders I’m following!” Kit said hotly, looked away, his anger getting him nowhere. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. “You know what, forget it. What do you want?”

“I missed you. Can’t an old friend come by and see his favourite pet?”

“Evidently you can do whatever you want,” Kit muttered, sitting back on his heels to alleviate the pressure on his knees.

“I’m glad we understand each other,” Ambrose hummed.

An easy silence fell over them, interrupted by Kit’s growling stomach which neither of them commented on. Kit just wanted a shower and food and his bed, to process everything that had happened at work. From his theorising with Tides, to interrupting his meeting Superhero was having with Mr Silver, to his argument with Superhero to put him on the rota for patrols.

“Not now, you’re still recovering.”

“I know myself,” Kit protested. “Put me down on patrols, Superhero. I’m fine! I wouldn’t be back at work if I was still sick!”

Superhero stared at Kit. Kit stared at Superhero imploringly. Superhero sat back with a sigh. “Okay. Fine, but you’re not patrolling the inner city. I’m putting you on residential.”

“But—”

“No buts, it’s residential or nothing.”

Kit pouted like a child, folding his arms across his chest and looking away. “Fine,” he said after a beat. Something was better than nothing.

Ambrose unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, drawing Kit’s attention to him. He had already unbuttoned his suit jacket before he sat down, and Kit scoffed.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”

“You really are so accommodating, Mallory.”

Kit glared at him. something strange struck him. “How’d you get into my apartment?”

Ambrose pulled out a key in reply. Kit shot forward, remembered he was on his knees and had to stop himself before he fell forward. “I made a copy of your key.”

“Yeah, I sort of got that,” Kit said, running a hand through his hair with a huff. “How’d you make a copy?”

“I asked you to give me your key and made you forget that I asked,” Ambrose replied as if it was the most casual thing in the world. “It really is easy to get what I want.”

“Must be nice,” Kit muttered.

Ambrose looked at the key, something flashing over his expression as he turned it over between his fingers. “You would think.”

Kit scoffed, crawling over to the kitchen. “Is this the part where you tell me how hard it is to be able to control everything and everyone to your will? Because I’m all out of sympathy for psychopaths today, so come again another day.”

He had only put the kettle on when Ambrose spoke again. “Come here, Kit.”

“Are you serious?” Kit whined, crawling back towards Ambrose. Kit stopped right in front of Ambrose, glaring into his impassive face. Ambrose reached forward and grabbed the end of Kit’s tie, yanking him up.

Kit yelped and shot his hands out, grabbing the red fabric with his hands trying to alleviate the pressure.

“Let go, Kit.”

“Wait, Ambrose, please. I—” I’m sorry didn’t come to his tongue, his pride wrestling with his self-preservation and winning.

Ambrose tilted his head, black eyes dancing with amusement. “You?” He prompted, wrapping the tie around his knuckles once.

Kit pinched his lips into a thin line, halfway between a grimace and a frown. “Look, I’m—”

“You’re a rude, insolent child?” Ambrose supplied, wrapping the tie around his hand again, drawing Kit up closer towards him. Kit was now high on his knees, his face inches from Ambrose’s. “You need to be taught some manners?”

Kit didn’t say anything.

“I think you—”

“Do you not like my rudeness?” Kit rushed out, straining his neck to try and get more air into his lungs. Ambrose’s death grip didn’t make it exactly easy to breathe. Ambrose tilted his head at Kit, a silent motion for him to continue. “You like that I fight back. You like that you’re able to be rough with me and make me submit because I hate you. I fucking despise you when you do it.”

“You are so bold.”

“And you like it!” Kit all but yelled. Kit cried out as the heel of Ambrose’s palm slammed up into his nose. Blood gushed instantly and Kit’s hands went to his nose instead of the tie, which Ambrose used to his advantage, tightening the tie until it cut off Kit’s air supply.

Ambrose got to his feet dragging Kit along the floor behind him until they cleared the couches. Ambrose released Kit in the open space of the living room, to gasp and curse and choke on blood.

“Don’t bleed on my suit, Mallory. Honestly, were you raised in a barn?” Ambrose asked, removing his suit jacket swiftly and undoing his cuffs as Kit pushed himself to his hands and knees. “Oh wait, I almost forgot. You’re from the Rookery, aren’t you? No wonder you have the manners of a swine.”

“Fuh— fuck off, Rosey.”

“Mmm,” Ambrose hummed, something dark in his tone. a dress shoe was flying towards Kit’s cheek, and he was thrown off balance, his shoulder hitting the ground hard. “That was rude, Mallory. Don’t worry. I’ll whip you into a model citizen.”

Another kick to the face and Kit was on his back on the ground. He didn’t have time to move or blink before Ambrose was on top of him, two molten black eyes gleaming down at him. Kit put his hands up, trying to push the villain off of him. Pain, anger and fear blunted his reflexes, leaving him dizzy and weak.

Ambrose didn’t touch him again. Instead, he started to slowly, methodically roll up his sleeves, his weight pinning Kit to the ground, knees straddling Kit’s waist.

“You know, Mallory, you caught me off guard the last time I was here. I mean, your connection to Mentor, how poetic could all this be, hmm? What sort of God hated you so much that he drew me to you, after I disposed of Mentor?”

“Shut up,” Kit hissed, throwing his fist up. Ambrose caught it and punched his nose. Kit cried out, warm blood beginning to gush again as he bucked his hips trying to throw Ambrose off.

“Manners, Kit. Your elder is speaking.” Ambrose chided with a sickening smirk, tucking his sleeve all the way to just below his elbow. “So, I decided to do some digging into you, into your— oh what did you call it? Your tragic backstory, and damn. Talk about pathetic. Not only did your parents not want you, but apparently neither did any of your precious heroes.”

“Shut up!” Kit roared, grabbing Ambrose by the shirt and planting his foot on the floor, bucking his hip and they went rolling until Kit was on top of Ambrose and started to rain down punches.

Ambrose threw his arms up, forearms protecting his face from Kit’s furious onslaught. Kit let out a roar as he punched, switching from his face to punch Ambrose in the stomach. He managed to get one solid hit on Ambrose’s solar plexus and Ambrose gasped, curling up as he gasped.

Kit’s nose curled up, grabbing Ambrose’s shirt and sending a nasty left hook to his jaw. Ambrose saw blood flying across his face, though it wasn’t his. Ambrose grabbed Kit’s tie and yanked him down. Ambrose slammed his forehead into the bridge of Kit’s nose and Kit cried out.

Ambrose used the distraction to flip them again, slamming his palm into Kit’s nose once more. Kit let out a harsh cry, kicking uselessly, struggling to get away, to get Ambrose off of him.

Ambrose laughed as Kit writhed beneath him, hands cupping his stomach where Kit had punched. If Kit could see right now, he would see the crazed look in Ambrose’s eyes, that were always so impassive or subtle. Splatters of blood painting his alabaster skin with bright red freckles that were starting to dry in.

“Fuck, Kit! This is why I just can’t leave you alone. You’re too much fun, you know that? If you were boring, maybe I’d’ve gotten bored by now, but no.” Ambrose leaned down, grabbing Kit by the collar of his shirt, fists twisting into the fabric. “Look at me Kit.”

It was more of a growl than a command, but still Kit obeyed. Tear-filled blue eyes met sparkling onyx and widened in fear. Ambrose looked insane in that moment, and something primal took over.

One of Kit’s blood-stained hands went to Ambrose’s wrist trying to dislodge it from his shirt while the other pushed at his crisp white shirt, trying to push him off.

“Look at you,” Ambrose whispered, cupping Kit’s cheek and digging him thumb into Kit’s cheekbone. “Knuckles beaten raw, nose broken, blood dripping down your lips and chin and still you try to fight me?”

Ambrose let out a boisterous laugh, verging on hysterical. His eyes narrowing as if Kit was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

“What makes you think you’d stand a chance against me? Like are you stupid? Delusional? Is there something wrong up here?” He asked, tapping Kit’s temple with his finger.

“I think…” Kit said, tightening his grip on Ambrose’s wrist. He sucked in a breath through his mouth, feeling the energy rippling in the air and his eyes turned a static red. “That you talk too much.”

Ambrose was thrown off of Kit before he had time to react. His back smacked off the wall with a dull thud before he slid down. Kit’s entire body cackled to life, his lights flashing in the apartment, his TV turning on and off. All the electrical appliances in the kitchen beeped and buzzed, sparks flying.

Kit got to all fours, gasping in laboured breaths through his mouth, his nose too clogged with blood to breathe through as his body thrummed with an uncontrollable energy. Sparks flew from every part of his body, even his blood which was dripping onto the wooden floor beneath him seemed to glow with the eerie red hue.

Ambrose let out a startled, broken laughter, his muscles spasming as he drew his knee to his chest with a wince. “Phew, Kit. You… you’ve got a dark side. You would be a truly, magnificent villain.”

Kit looked over his shoulder like some wild animal, baring his blood-stained teeth at Ambrose. “Make it stop,” Kit growled, his words filled with static. A particularly nasty strike of lightning erupted from his chest and Kit faltered, crying out. “AMBROSE! Make it stop! Please! Argh!”

Kit’s arms shook and faltered as another shockwave of red electricity thronged from him and he hit the ground. Ambrose watched, licking his lips as Kit fell again to the ground. He let out a soft scoff, pushing his back against the wall to get himself standing again. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and took a deep breath. he said, “Kit, stop using your powers.”

 Another shockwave of energy blasted from Kit, staggering Ambrose and pushing him back against the wall. Ambrose’s eyes narrowed. “Kit… hey. Kit! Shit.”

Kit cried out again as another wave of energy was torn from his body. Ambrose kicked Kit onto his back, grabbing the tie and pulling it taut. Kit gasped, wide eyes on Ambrose’s face, kicking out at his legs. “Ah, fuck. Kit! I’m trying to help you, stop … nng… fighting –”

Another red wave hit Ambrose square in the chest, and he was sent flying back against the wall again. The whites of Ambrose’s eyes disappeared completely, his lips turning a deep crimson red. “Kit. STOP using your powers.”  

Kit’s body went impossibly still. The only movement was aftershocks spasming through his body as he stared blankly up at the ceiling. His eyelids grew heavy when Ambrose stepped into view, his lips a bright red against his marble skin. It faded back to their normal colour, still more vibrant than most. Kit couldn’t really focus on them though, thoughts moving through his brain like sludge, heavy and muddled.

Ambrose crouched down beside him, pushing Kit’s hair off his forehead, almost tenderly. “That’s it, Kit. Just relax. I’ll make us that tea while you get your bearings, hmm?”

Kit didn’t move while he stood; he just rest his worn body while his tormentor left to go make him some tea. He wished in that moment that his electricity would consume him, tear through his veins and kill him swifter than an electric chair or a noose. When he closed his eyes they were still gleaming an unnatural red.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie e @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland @mononeigbour @tippytappytyping @stefaniesblogs @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: none

Word Count: 2702 words

a/n: hello!! so I was able to edit a lot today. :') I'm hoping to have the next chapter up by Sunday! Let me know what you think about this chapter, I would love to hear your thoughts on this one! Happy reading! <3

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Chapter 4

You felt off all day.

It was something you couldn’t explain. Out of nowhere that morning, you woke up with a slight headache and a sudden uneasy feeling that refused to go away until late in the afternoon. It was Friday, and you decided to close early due to your bizarre state. You planned a night-in with some warm tea, hearty soup and a marathon of a new series you started. 

Currently, while finishing up cleaning the tables and organising the chairs, you paid no attention to anything and swayed mindlessly to the soft music in your headphones with the fresh scent of lavender filling the room which you were using to wipe the tables down. Your friends had already left for the evening and the skyline of Seoul provided a composed and serene atmosphere, one which you were very grateful for at this time. 

You pondered the cause for your sudden headache and a spike in anxiety. Werewolves rarely got sick, the main reason may be because of exhaustion, but as far as you could recall, you weren’t over-exerting or pushing yourself too hard. While the beginning of your journey was far from effortless, you paced yourself when it came to facing challenges. Because you knew if you overworked yourself, especially since you were still recovering at the time, Jisung wouldn’t hesitate to tell Chan and Minho. You could handle Chan but you were afraid of an angry Minho. 

As you continued to lose yourself in your thoughts and music, you didn't hear the bell of your cafe ring. However, you felt your emotions suddenly shift and there was a rapid electric rush through your body. Following it was a pull you knew all too well.

It couldn’t be?

You spun around and halted at the figure in front of you. He was still slightly dripping wet, his hair damp and his clothes stuck to him but his face glowed beautifully. His eyes sparkled and he panted with a slight smile beginning to form as he looked at you in awe and admiration. 

Song Mingi, your soulmate, and one of the loves of your life stood in front of you in the flesh. It had been six months since you last saw him and the last time you saw him was during the worst times of your life, one that took a lot of therapy to start unpacking. Luckily, Chan knew someone who helped you immensely in deconstructing all the walls you had built. 

You thought a lot about this moment, coming face to face with one of your soulmates and unravelling all the feelings and emotions that had been buried inside you for so long. There were times when you wracked your brain with so many different scenarios, playing out what you would say, how you would act and your responses when they responded. You hoped to prepare yourself for the imminent confrontation but truthfully, you were far from well-prepared.

As Mingi approached you cautiously, you were stumped. So many questions began to flood your mind. What are you supposed to do? Should you be aloof and standoffish? Should you start yelling? Should you run away, let Chan handle it and never look back? 

The main question you had was, did you harbour any hate towards Mingi? Hate was a very strong word and you couldn’t begin to fathom hating one of your mates. Yes, you were hurt, angry and disappointed in them but part of you didn’t want to throw in the towel just yet. If there was any possibility for reconciliation, you were willing to try, albeit you wouldn’t go easy on them.

Something you learnt in therapy was that relationships are a work in progress. It’ll never be perfect like you were told growing up and it didn’t necessarily have to be set in stone with you not having a choice about it. You did in fact have a choice, and while you still believed fate had a role in bringing people together, a real relationship requires showing up, learning from mistakes, taking accountability and trying again if both parties truly care for each other. If not, you knew you had to face the harsh reality of walking away even if it broke you.

You wanted to make it work with your soulmates, and Mingi was the one out of your eight mates who you were closest to after Hongjoong. He was the second one you had bonded with and spent a lot of time together before meeting everyone else. You would describe him as your tall alpha with a soft heart and sweet personality. He wore his heart on his sleeve, he’s a tenderheart and big softie who would seek you out to share his snacks with because he didn't like to eat alone. He struggled with his self-esteem because being the middle child had him being forgotten a lot. You were there along with the boys to give him comfort and show him his worth. Song Mingi is the tenderest, sweetest and softest person out of the entire pack. 

"Mingi..." you murmured.

"Y-Y/N..." his voice broke out in a raspy tone.

The moment he spoke snapped you out of your daze. You just wanted to hug him, embrace him and feel his warmth again. As your finger grazed his hand, he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head repeatedly. 

"It's you! It's really you!" He cried.

That’s all it took for you to break your facade and you broke down in his embrace, sniffles and sobs racking your body. Mingi just pulled you closer.

"Don't cry, don't cry angel. I know I have a lot to apologise for. I-I can't even b-begin to explain it. There are no e-excuses for my actions. I'll make it up to y-you. No matter what, I won't ever hurt you like that again."

You felt the sincerity in his words. You knew he was being sincerely honest. You weren't ready to forgive him - you both still had to have a proper conversation about everything. But for now, you wanted to have this moment with him, after so long you finally had your Mingi again. 

It took a while to peel Mingi off you because he kept refusing. He was taller than you and much stronger so it took a lot of convincing that you weren’t going to vanish into thin air once he let you go. He wouldn't even sit if you didn't. When you placed him in a chair and moved away to give him a blanket, some tea and maybe a change of clothes, he bolted upright and grabbed your hand, holding onto it for dear life. 

Your apartment was right above the café. You had a few oversized jerseys in your closet as you were currently experimenting with your style that could fit him but it seemed to be futile on retrieving anything.

Mingi refused to part with you so instead he followed you foot to foot behind the counter as you pulled out one of the blankets from under the counter that you had for safekeeping for the colder days. He stood close by as you made him some tea.

Suddenly, your phone went off signalling a message. Mingi was confused by the sound and intrigued by the device you pulled out of your pocket. As you quickly checked to see who it was, Mingi quickly snatched it from you to see what it was.

"Hey—Mingi!" 

Your shouts went unanswered as Mingi stared at the screen. He was confused by the interface. Who is Jisung? Somehow he exited out of that app and managed to click on Instagram. Your profile was the first page when he opened the app and his brows pinched in even more confusion.

"Is that you?" he asked

You tried to get your phone back so you could explain things to him but Mingi is taller than you.

He pressed on the picture with you and Chan. It was a harmless picture that was taken during Chan’s birthday party with the two of you posing with big smiles as you both leaned against the kitchen counter watching Seungmin and Hyunjin fight over something. Your caption was simple: Happy birthday to my best friend. However, Mingi’s instincts kicked in seeing the two of you standing in close proximity. He felt a low growl wanting to erupt from his throat, his protective senses coming in. But he noticed your smile. You hadn't smiled like that in a long time. It was only with them and the last time was probably when…he couldn’t remember the last time.

You were able to grab back your phone after accidentally stepping on his foot. 

“Ow!” he cried.

“Finally.” you sighed.

"Who is that?" You could hear the pain that was evident in his voice. Even if you did want to be cold towards him, you didn’t have the heart to. It was difficult to remain aloof.

"He's my friend," you answered, "His name is Chan and he was the one who found me in the lake and brought me back with him."

"The lake? You came through the lake?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I don’t know how, all I remember is jumping in and then everything went dark. Then next thing I knew I was here.”

“That's why we couldn't find you. You were in this realm all the time?"

You hummed and nodded.

"Yeah, I…I didn't want to come home…” you stuttered, “I-I couldn't..." you trailed off.

Truth be told, you weren’t 100% certain what to expect from Mingi. There was so much heaviness weighing on your shoulders and in the air, that you couldn’t read what was going through Mingi’s mind or predict his next move.

Was he going to snap at you, ridicule you or berate you?

Mingi felt your uncertainty as the spark of your bond started to drop and he brought you into an immediate hug. 

"I can't blame you,” he started, “We left you with a lot of broken promises, we didn't take care of you like we are supposed to. It hurts to hear that you didn’t want to come back to us but…you were also hurting a lot more than we were."

You didn’t realise the tears cascading down your face. For so long, you just wanted to be heard, understood and comforted. 

"Mingi, we have to talk about all that…”

“Let’s talk now then. At least cover some bases?”

You agreed and brought the tea to a table in the far corner away from the window. You sat opposite Mingi with great effort as he was still uneasy not being able to feel your touch, you saw the way he never took his eyes off you. 

You cleared your throat holding the teacup securely in your hand.

“First of all, I’m really, really, really, really sorry for not realising sooner the damage we were doing to you. I know an apology isn’t even enough. The fact that it had to take you being separated from us, for us to recognise the severity is inexcusable.” he began.

You listened intently, anxious at what he had to say.

“When I discovered how damaged our bond became, it felt like an entire collapse of my world. I don’t even know how to explain it, it was as if the one thing that kept me going was stripped away and I was operating on autopilot with no clear way ahead,” he paused, “My birthday wasn’t the same. It wasn’t a celebration, there was more grief than anything. I always told you how much you meant to me and you going missing showed me just how important you are to me Y/N. You’re my entire world and I can’t bear the thought of living without you. I hate it and I don’t want to live like that. I should have noticed my treatment towards you, I should have told the boys, I should have supported you and been there for you. I’m so sorry for failing you.”

“Mingi…”

“Hit me, yell at me, tell me as it is. Don’t hold back Y/N but please…don’t give up on me. Please give me a chance to make it up to you.” 

“I…I appreciate your honesty Mingi. You seem to be sincere. I thought I would never be understood. It felt like I was drowning in a sea of my feelings. Everyday I prayed one of you would wrap your arms around me and end the nightmare I was living in. All my life…I was taught how to be a perfect mate and to consider your mate as your whole world, but when your mate forgets you, your world falls apart and you’re left stranded in a dark void with no real direction to follow. When I was running from those rogues, it came to my mind that you all were on the other side of town with Lila…”

Mingi grimaced at that realisation. You were in danger and they were so far away from you. He held your hands that were still wrapped around the teacup, rubbing soothing circles to comfort and help you gather your thoughts.

“I always thought it was my fault,” you cried, “I wanted to call out for you through the bond but I couldn’t even focus. I felt like a failure, I thought I failed at being a Luna, and so many questions plagued my mind every day and night. What does Lila have that I don’t? Why am I always a second choice? Why does Mrs Kim hate me? What’s wrong with me?”

Your voice broke as you spoke. Mingi wanted to kick himself for doing this to you. He finally saw the way you had been broken. You questioned your self worth, they made you question your worthiness. You didn’t know how you were so important, you were a precious gem to him, you were priceless. 

“Nothing’s wrong you angel, if anything, something is clearly wrong with the rest of us because we’re plain idiots for making you think you’re unworthy. You deserved to be loved, adored and respected.” he answered.

“It hurts Mingi. All I ever wanted was to be someone's favourite person growing up. I wanted to be the one, you could come to for anything. I wanted to help in any way I could. I just wanted to be loved.”

“And you are loved, my love. I love you so deeply and truly, I really do. I will never let you feel that way again. As long as I live, you’d be showered unconditionally with love and respect.”

You closed your eyes and regulated your breathing to compose yourself. 

“I’m willing to work things out Mingi. But you should know, I’m not sure if I trust you right now. So many thoughts come in, what if it happens again? What if -”

“It won’t. It will never happen again, angel. I know that seems like an empty promise. But it isn't! I promise you, I will make you trust me again.” 

You looked at Mingi with some uncertainty. You never considered love would be like this, you always thought it would be easy. You didn’t know what was going to happen next but at least for now, this was a start.

“Tiny steps. Let’s take tiny steps then. I’ll introduce you to Chan tomorrow, he’ll help you get in contact with the others. Let them know you’re safe.”

Even after all the hurt they gave you, Mingi was in awe at the way you cared so deeply for them.

“Let’s head upstairs,” you said tiredly.

As you both made your way to the apartment, Mingi thought about everything. It pained him deeply to know the hurt they caused you. He made a silent promise to himself that he’ll be better for you. 

That night, he couldn’t sleep. You’re the best thing that ever happened to him and you deserve unconditional and unwavering love. In no way, shape or form were you ever a second choice. You could never be second - you were and will always be first. 

He’ll make things right again. He promised.

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Tag list: @eastleighsblog , @sehun096rainbow

[gojo-enthusiast]

Sunday Kind of Love

Series — My Husband Toji Zenin

It had been 4 months since Toji and you’s big fight, you both made it to couples therapy every week, on time and intently invested. “You both have grown a lot in just a short time, they way you both sit right next to each other now, rather than far apart like it was in the beginning.” Your therapist exclaimed, smiling. “Thank you, we are working hard to maintain open communication and getting to know one another, but also growing from the past.” You smiled, holding your husbands hand. “That is great to hear. How do you feel Toji?” She asks, “I feel closer to my wife.” He says, he was simple, to the point. “Good! You should be! Now, question for you guys, how is your sex life with one another? Are we maintaining a consistent and mutually consensual sex life?” She questions. “Oh.” You had blurted, not expecting her to ask such a lewd question. “You don’t have to answer. Just make sure to think about that. Alright guys, we are done for the day. I will see you two next week, same time and day?” She said ending the hour long session.

The drive back home was more silent, you both hadn’t thought about sex, well… You hadn’t, Toji thought about sex with you every moment of the day, most of the times, he was fisting his cock in the shower, trying to blow off the sexual frustration.

“Should we talk about the elephant in the room?” You nervously say. “That isn’t nice to call your husband fat.” Toji jokes. “Toji.” You giggle, feeling your muscles loosen. “We haven’t had sex in 8 months.” Toji states plainly. “Yeah, it has been a while hasn’t it?” You question. “Yeah.” He says back. He began to feel his cock start to harden, just the mere thought of his wife naked in front of him, had him already aching. “I guess we should just ease into it.” You quietly say. “Yeah.” He huffs out lightly.

4 days go bye, and Toji got stuck with overtime, making you feel insecure, you knew he was working but a little thought in the back of your head told you, he was fucking some other woman, since you hadn’t had sex with him. It was 8pm and you called your husband, “Toji?” You say through the phone. “Yes dear?” He questions. “When are you going to be home?” You question, “I am finishing up this last email, then I will be on my way. You hungry?” Toji questions. All of a sudden you burst into tears, “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He frantically asked, “I-I don’t want y-you to have s-s-sex with someone else, I only want you to have sex with m-me!” You cry. “Baby doll, what are you talking about? I’m not having sex with anyone, only you.” He soothingly says. “I will be home in an hour, okay?” He says, “O-Okay.” You calm down. “I love you y/n” He says, “I love you too Toji.” You whimper a little.

And there was your husband, an hour later. He came home, and saw his darling wife, laid on the couch asleep. He picked you up, taking you to your shared bedroom, lying you down. Crawling in beside you, pulling you into his embrace. “I love you.” He says, kissing the crown of your head.

You woke up the next morning, earlier than usual. The sun wasn’t out yet, still darkness, with a tiny bit of light. The black out curtains, not closed all the way. You look at the clock, seeing 6AM. You feel a heat coming from beside you, and it’s your husband, sound asleep. You leaned in, looking at him, smelling a scent of soap. “He must have showered when he got home.” You smile faintly. You stared at his face in admiration, it was Sunday, which meant he didn’t have work, and you two could be in bed all day. Yours eyes drifted down to his manhood area, you saw a little bit of a bulge, feeling testy, wanting to see a little more, you lifted the blankets, looking closer. His manhood erect, hard. “Mmm?” Toji groaned in his sleep. Your womanhood begin to feel heat, your breast perking at the sight of your shirtless husband. You softly placed your hand on his manhood, lightly stroking him over his sweats, kissing the side of his neck.

“Mmm, baby?” He groans, his eyes fluttering open. You felt yourself grow embarrassed, wondering what brought you to the conclusion that touching your sleeping husband was okay. “Why’d you stop?” He groaned, feeling his cock throb. “I-I” You stutter, your cheeks red. “Why you nervous?” He says sitting up. You sat there not saying a word, you were innocent, you were not used to doing these things, especially since the last time you two had sex, was almost a year ago. “You can touch me.” He says, kissing you on your lips. “Can I?” You question. “Yeah.” He responds back. “C-can you take your pants off, please?” You ask sweetly, making your husbands heart mush, he loved how innocent his little wife is. “I want to make you feel good Toji.” You said. “Then do so.” He cockily said, leaning back with his arms behind his head after he stripped out of his pants and boxers.

“You’re really big.” You said quietly, you knew your husband was big, but you forgot how big. “Scared?” He smirked. “No!” You huffed. You spit on the tip of his cock, stroking him slowly, it was early in the morning, you both were still waking up, so you tried to keep your movements slow and graceful. “Fuck.” You hear your husband groan. “Faster, please.” He adds. You quick up your pace, Toji’s cock already twitching. “Fuck— I’m about to cum.” He huffs out. Toji wasn’t one to cum fast, but it was early morning, and he also hadn’t felt the touch of his wife in months. His body was so sensitive to everything you did, he was obsessed. After a few strokes later, he spilled all over your hand, and you continued jerking until he grabbed onto your hand to get you to stop. “N-no more.” He huffed, “did it feel good?” You ask, “did that feel good? Yes. That felt fucking amazing.” He said catching his breath. Still grabbing onto your hand that was wrapped around his cock. He finally let go, and you brought your hand to your mouth, looking at him, he looked at you. You stuck your tongue out, licking his cum that had coated part of your hand. “Oh fuck.” He groaned, his cock springing right back up. “You just fucked up.” He growled, flipping you over to lay on your back. He had your cunt in his mouth in a matter of seconds. Licking you all over, stuffing his tongue into your tight hole. “Taste so fucking good.” He says, your moans filling up the room, you were melting, your essence coating his chin and mouth. He began to suck on your clit, while his middle finger slowly started stroking inside of you, Toji slowly stretching you out. “Ah— Toji!” You moan loudly, your cunt making so much noise. “Shhh baby— she’s talking to me.” He says almost in a hush. You moans at his words, but shutting your mouth. “Delicious little pussy.” He says into your cunt. Fucking his tongue into you, while his fingers did most of the work. “Toji, please put it in.” you moan out, your back arched. “Not yet, your to tight baby.” He said into your cunt. “Please- ahh! Toji— fuck.” You are moaning, coming undone on his face. “I’m cumming, fuck!” You groan out. The little knot in your stomach finally snapping, finally finishing, while your husband is licking up everything coming out. “Fuck!” He says, “taste so fucking good.” He groans into you. You tug at his hair, wanting him to come up to you. He comes up, planting a kiss on your lips. “Come inside me.” You whisper into his ear.

“Fuckkk—“ he groans, as he strokes his cock, and aligns it to your cunt. Slowly pushing in, he stretches you out slowly. Making sure you are comfortable. “You alright?” He huffs out. “Y-yeah. So-so big.” You moan out. “Fuck!” He groans loudly, pushing more of himself into you. He began rocking his hips after pushing himself all the way inside of you. He would go fast, then slow down, and he would repeat that method, making you wrap your arms around his neck and would scratch all over his back. He didn’t know it yet, but his back began bleeding from your nails. Which would make him fuck you again when he sees it.

“Fuck yes” he groaned, going quicker, feeling your gummy walls tighten all around him. “Let me make you a momma.” He moaned into your ear, moaning was not something Toji did. Which meant he was vulnerable with you. “Ah Toji.” You moan back, tightening around him. “Make me a mommy.” You moaned as he quickened his pace. Despite his quickness, he was gentle, he was quick, not hard. He gentle caressed your sides, as you shredded his back with your nails. Toji’s stokes began to get sloppy, and a few minutes later, he was fucking his cum deep into you.

He picked you up, pulling out for just a moment, lifting you in front of the mirror, so you could see your cunt. And he thrusted back into you, “watch me fuck my seed into you.” He groaned into your ear. He was so fucked out of his brain, all he wanted to do was fill your mind and body up with only him. “Look!” He groaned loudly, you moaned at the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock. “So pretty. So good for me.” He kissed your temple, fucking you out of your mind. “You see that doll, I’m so nice.” He said with a smirk, sweat sliding down his face. “I’m so good to my baby, I’m even letting you watch me fuck you. You like watching daddy fuck you?” He teased. “YES YES YES YES TOJI, YES PLEASE KEEP FUCKING ME!” You screamed, you body convulsing. He had you held up with one hand while the other arm snaked around was rubbing your clit. “TOJI FUCK!” You screamed, crying out. A couple of flicks later of your clit, you squirted all over the mirror, and your husband continued to fuck into you, until he dumped a second load into you. Fucking his cum into you once again. “Look at that baby, look how we’re joined together. Together forever.” He said into your ear. You looked down at your cunt, see your cum and his coming together, coating his cock, and filling up your cunt. “So beautiful.” He groaned even more. Fucking you again and again. You both kept at it like two animals in heat, until the afternoon sun was blazing. You both were lying on the floor with a pillow and blanket, as you rode his cock. Spasming all over, and he filling you up again. At this point he finally just started shooting blanks. He was empty and you were exhausted. You fell on top of him, and passed out. He caressed your back, “All mine.” He whispered into your ear. Drifting off to sleep along time with you.

[penny-anna]

hi everyone guess what time it is THATS RIGHT its fic rec time

Slowly but Also Like All at Once by putaposyinyourhair

"Any sign of Knuckles?” He huffs out a soft breath of air, mentally cycling through the answers that are starting to feel almost programmed by this point. Kris, he ain’t coming back. Kris, he’s gone, man. Kris, stop asking me shit I don’t have the answers to, dude. Instead he goes with something a little more sensitive. “Negative.”

AU based on the ending of Rise of the Beasts. tragically not updated for over a year but MUCH to chew on here & i must share this excerpt:

“Look, man, I can explain—” “Noah,” Reek begins again, tentatively— like he’s about to ask something that even he can’t quite believe he’s going to ask. “Did you fuck that car?” Noah damn nearly chokes on his own tongue.

Personal Space by Neon_Honeycomb

“Are you okay?” Cool, smooth metal presses against his face before he can even register Mirage moving, shattering the memory that’s slowly engulfing him until it dissipates entirely. He’s left staring again at the metal beams above, the backdrop of yellow clouds far behind them, and the movement of a single tree branch swaying just within sight. “Only you would have a roof fall on you and then ask if I’m the one that’s okay.” Noah and Mirage get trapped under a pile of rubble together. While waiting for someone to come free them, they get... comfortable.

its ur classic premise <3

lose my mind by Donts

“Do I turn you on, Noah?” Mirage murmurs lowly. Noah sucks in a breath, dropping his hands and opening his eyes, gazing at Mirage’s optics with surprise. Mirage is looking at him with a smug grin, and oh fuck. or 5 times Noah masturbates because of Mirage, and 1 time Mirage helps him out.

ohhh thats the good filth!!

A flickering spark, his unwavering spirit by caelleth

“We were… friends, weren’t we?” The words left his vocals before he could quell them, and Noah considered them before he could regain his wits enough to take them back. “...Yeah. We were friends.” His head turned, and he tore his gaze away from the mech, leaving Mirage to stare at his dust-fettered curls, struggling to find any words in this planet’s limited language that could ever hope to describe the unbearable mix of guilt and yearning and grief and above all that, unyielding hope that bubbled through his chassis. But it seemed no amount of words ever could, Cybertronian or otherwise. “I can see why,” was all he said to the human. (Or, the trials and tribulations of repairing a Cybertronian.)

another AU based on the ending of the movie. ohh this was a great time. the first Mirage POV chapter is a particular highlight.

Manhandled by SadVibez

Mirage picks Noah up to grab something on a shelf. Things quickly turn not so PG-13.

manhandling :)

An Old Mech Worries For A Human by SadVibez

During the fight in Peru, Noah was hurt after being dropped by Scourge. He hasn't told anyone and with Mirage to not fret over him, no one has noticed. Well, almost no one. Optimus notices Noah in pain and the two have a small talk.

a rare non-shippy fic. ohh i love a 'this character should have been injured let's talk about that' fic

Tactile Intimacy by BunnyFair

When Mirage makes an expected engine noise, Noah has to investigate and give his friend a thorough check up. Popping his hood, he soon discovers the world of tactile interfacing.

tactile interfacing for u!!!

human junk by Secretkept (KaiNinjagoo)

After a few nights of Noah sleeping in the garage, Mirage notices something he hasn’t seen before (PENIS)

firstly can i just say, summary of all time, i've been thinking about (PENIS) for weeks. secondly: great series feat. sexless robot Mirage & Noah navigating their relationship. love the realism of this one. great time.

Exposure Therapy by Neon_Honeycomb

“You’re not made of metal. I— I don’t know the limits of what you’re made of. I don’t know how much is safe contact, and when it turns into— when you— when I—” This is the part where Noah is supposed to get it. The part where he’s supposed to understand the depth of what Mirage has just told him, where he realizes the danger he’s in if Mirage so much as simply moves wrong at the wrong moment, the moment where he lets go and never comes near him again. He waits; waits for it all to click into place in that biological processor of his, waits for the moment he pulls his hands back to himself, waits for his face to morph into entirely justified fear. “I could break you, Noah, I could…” He’s not prepared for Noah’s expression to go soft. There's only one way for someone to learn how much strength to use when handling something, and that's through experience.

screaming yelling throwing up wailing sobbing:

Noah doesn’t break. He doesn’t immediately start leaking red, his face doesn’t even pinch like Mirage has seen him do when he gets hurt. And somehow that makes it so much worse when Noah looks up at him, looking just as good as he had a moment ago, completely fine, only for him to say, “Right there. That’s how hard it takes to start hurting.” like it’s no big deal at all.