#I woke up this morning craving violence

[l0nesome-dreams]

Pretty much me today

[borathae]

Too Sweet

“You’re too sweet for him, but he can’t get enough of the taste. Even if lately he makes you feel as if he has. Taehyung doesn’t like that you feel this way, showing you that the only drug he ever needs is you.”

Pairing: Gangster!Taehyung x f.Reader

Genre: crime!AU, established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: mention of past smoking, mention of murder as well as blood & violence, Dom!Taehyung, sub!Reader, lingerie kink, hand kink, dirty talk, praise, he calls her his slut fondly, he also calls her babygirl and (baby)doll, the title Sir is said like three times, cockwarming in his office chair, desperate sex on top of his office desk, DP of her pussy with his cock & fingers, choking without applying pressure, bondage with his tie, strength kink, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), squirting, he fucks her so good she pees a little jjsjsj, creampie, subby girl tears, he is as gentle with her as he is rough (sexy), smol ownership kink, kinda exhibitionism cause they fuck loudly with his guards outside the doors, hints at female masturbation, allusion to somnophilia, breast play with painless tit spanking, idk if this is warning worthy but he is a little "dismissive" of her feeling neglected by fucking her instead of listening to her, but he apologises healthily in the end and keeps being all "fuck, I misssed you" during sex, cuddles and kisses and praise for aftercare hihi

Wordcount: 5.6k

a/n: this is based on this post and all of you guys' wishes ohoho. it's definitely less on the soft Dom!Tae side because a bitch (me) wrote this during full ovulation bloom and i quite frankly felt like a bitch (dog) in heat ajjajsjs have fun besties 🤎

Taehyung was working late. He is at home for a change and you thought that it would mean you could see him more, but that wasn’t the case. You haven’t seen him at all today, not even in the morning because he locked himself in his office before you woke and during lunch time, he asked one of his men to bring the food to his office. You can’t stand it when he is like this. 

You know that Taehyung was a busy man. If he wasn’t gone, tending to missions or assassinating his targets, he was holed up in his office, allowing no one to come in. No one. Not even you, his woman. 

You normally don’t mind that he is absent, having your own things to do. But it has been days since you last saw him and you are getting needy. Not only for his attention, but also for his touch. You noticed it starting when you woke up all alone – like always these past few days – with thick, warm slick between your legs and a deep pit in your stomach only his cock could fill. You tried to get rid of it, but no matter how you touched yourself, it wasn’t enough. You missed Taehyung. You missed his touch and how he can turn you into puddy between his fingers. He gets off on the power. Taehyung is twisted like that, giving it to you with a taunting smirk on his lips which so very often makes you shudder. Sometimes he also looks at you as if you were his prey, as if you were one of the many fuckers he tortures on a daily. And you get off to it, craving exactly this look tonight.

Taehyung’s world wasn’t normal or on the bright side of the law. Taehyung’s world was as twisted as him, it was filled with drugs, murder and betrayal and reeked of dirty money and expensive alcohol. 

You slithered into it eight years ago with no chance of escaping. It all began when you came home to your younger siblings slaughtered and your belongings missing. Your parents had died years before and as the eldest of four, you took on the role of mother and father for your younger siblings. They were three, six and eleven when they were murdered. You were only twenty. The law didn’t help you. They dismissed it because of too little evidence, called it a case unsolvable and told you to leave when you begged them to continue the search. You met Taehyung in front of the police station. It rained that day and the air smelled of messy endings – or new beginnings, however one might interpret the meeting. He called you to the dark alleyway he was hiding in and offered you a drag of the cigarette he was smoking, which you declined while he took it for you with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“I can find the killers of your family”, he had told you.

“How do you know what happened to them?” you had asked him.

He pointed at the police station, “I know a lot of things in this city. Things these bastards up there could only dream of knowing. I know your name and that someone killed your three siblings. I also know that your parents died two years ago and that their deaths are connected to these murders.”

“Who are you?” you asked him.

“You can call me Vante, my real name isn’t important”, he told you, not knowing that one day he will have you screaming his real name for him each night as he made the messiest love to you.

“Why are you helping me?”

Taehyung took a drag of his cigarette, exhaled it through his nose. He stepped closer, drawing you in with his eyes. Something sick and twisted glimmered in them and you had found yourself gazing at it in awe. 

“Are you taking my help or not? My cigarette is running out and I’m not about to light another one”, he stressed back then, unaware that one day the only drug he will need in his lungs was your air.

Many years have passed since then. The world darkened in these years. Taehyung lost the playful spark he had back then, while you lost the innocence a normal person without criminal ties possessed. You know how a stranger’s blood feels on your hands these days, know how disgusting humans are once they die and their muscles give up and you know the bitter taste of lonely nights when Taehyung stays out longer than planned. 

You can’t take the taste anymore. You crave the sweetness of his kiss, the saccharine traces of his touch and the honey timbre of his voice.

Taehyung is locked up in his office and doesn’t let anyone in, but you can’t take it anymore. You have to see him. 

Two of his men are guarding the door. Their eyes flit to your cleavage but shoot away instantly, their bodies tense as they try not to look again. Looking at you in the wrong way will cost them their eyes. Taehyung would make sure of that. Just as he made sure that the killer of your family got the ending they deserved. You knew that you were twisted when you felt joy and desire as you watched him slaughter them instead of horror and disgust. You remember fucking him, bloodied and dirty, just beside the bodies of your family’s killer while Taehyung moaned into your mouth, drugged out and high on slaughtering. You haven’t been separated since. Except for these last few days. Fuck, you miss him.

“Master Vante wishes not to be distracted”, his guards try to stop you.

“I want to see him.”

“He told us not to let anyone in. Not even you, Mistress.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Vante!” you call out. 

Moments later the door opens. Taehyung looks at you, then your skimpy outfit, then his guards. 

“You told them to keep me outside?” you ask him, cocking a brow at him.

Taehyung glares at his guards. They avoid eye contact, gawking at the front with pearls of anxious sweat on their foreheads.

“Come in”, Taehyung tells you darkly, stepping out of the doorframe.

With a triumphant bounce in your step, you enter his office. The main lights were off, only his green table lamp was on, tinting the room a mixture of orange and green. 

Taehyung closes the door and locks it, turning to you quickly to grab your wrist.

“What are you thinking?” he hisses.

“I miss you.”

“And that gives you the right to walk around like this in front of my men?” 

You are wearing lingerie and a see-through, short rope. Both blood red in colour. They hug your curves at the best parts and match with the colour of your lipstick. 

“Why? What’s wrong with my outfit?” you act oblivious on purpose, craving the fire in his eyes only you can ignite.

Taehyung furrows his brows. The fire burns deep. You, quite frankly, almost moan because of it. This is exactly the warmth you missed these past cold nights.

“I miss you, Tae. I go to bed alone and wake up just as alone. I miss you so fucking much.”

Taehyung clenches his jaw. He slides his hand from your wrist and steps back.

“I have a lot to do”, he says, retreating back to his desk. 

The distance is cold. Yes, the years took his playfulness, but they never took his affection for you. His distance is cold because it was never there before.

“Did I do something?” you ask him quietly.

Taehyung lifts his eyes from his papers. 

“What makes you think that?”

“You aren’t coming to bed with me anymore.”

“I am. You’re just always sleeping already.”

“You don’t hold me in the morning.”

“I do. You’re just always sleeping still.”

“You lock me out of your office.”

“There’s stuff in here I don’t want you to see.”

“You don’t want to fuck me in this outfit.”

Taehyung purses his lips. 

“You normally always do.”

“I want to do the most sinful things to you, don’t mistake my indifference with lack of desire. If I didn’t have so much shit to do, I’d bend you over this desk and fuck days worth of cum into you.”

You moan with your knees buckling. Taehyung watches it happen, allowing you to know it affects him by loosening his tie a little.

“Did you like that?” he asks – rasps. 

You nod your head, giving him pleading puppy eyes.

“Come here.”

You obey his orders instantly, hurrying to his desk so you could stand in front of him.

Taehyung spreads his legs, leaning back in his chair. It creaks as he does. He runs his hand over his chin, taking you in with fiery eyes. 

“What do you really want?”

“Your touch.”

“Don’t keep stuff from me. Tell me what you want.”

“I want.” You gasp for air. “Oh god, Tae. Don’t make me.”

He darkens his eyes, chewing imaginary gum.

“If you want me to help you, you gotta tell me. You know how deals with me work.”

How could you forget. Making a deal with Taehyung is what brought you here. Letting him find your family’s killer is what made you into the obsessed woman you are today. 

You didn’t have to accept his deal back then, but you did. You took the cigarette and finished it in one inhale, sealing not only your deal with him, but also your fate. 

“I want you to touch me. I’ve been wet since the morning and I can’t stop it.”

His eyes skim over your crotch. His chest rises and sinks in one deep, affected breath.

“Did you try stopping it?”

“Yeah.”

“How?” 

You shy away. Taehyung sits up, hovering his hand over your waist without touching you. It aches not to be touched by him. 

“Don’t be shy now. Tell me how you took care of it.”

“I touched myself”, you whisper.

Taehyung purrs, “you touched yourself. What a bad girl. I can’t remember giving you permission.”

“You haven’t been there for me for days.”

He smiles. The first of the day. It makes your knees weak.

“So it’s my fault?”

“Yes.”

His smile grows. He follows his hand with his eyes as he travels it along your curves. The touch never comes. It drives you insane to have him so close but still be denied the honey warmth of his hands.

“If I knew how fucking needy you were, I’d have fucked you in your sleep.”

You whimper. 

He looks up, meets your eyes in fiery desire.

“I’d have infiltrated your dreams and made you cream my cock before you could even wake up.”

“Please touch me, please”, you beg because you have already reached your breaking point.

He chuckles, chewing gum again.

“I can touch you in lots of ways. Be more specific.”

“Cock. I want cock.”

He leans back in his chair, folding his hands on his stomach nonchalantly. You gawk at them. You crave their touch. Fuck, please.

“Alright”, he says coolly. 

“Really?” you gasp, stumbling because your knees actually gave up on you. Taehyung is on his feet instantly, lifting you onto his desk and holding you between his strong hands. 

“Careful. Are you okay?” he asks, studying your features worriedly.

Despite all the killing he is doing, all the fighting and rough work, his palms are soft. Feeling them on your skin makes you moan. Finally. His touch heals you.

“I want to be fucked so bad”, you beg.

Taehyung chuckles, “shit, you’re gone for.”

“Please”, you open your legs, showing him your wet panties. 

Taehyung licks his lips, gulping heavily. You are soaking the documents under you. Fuck, you haven’t been that wet in ages. Taehyung wants to pump his digits into you, fuck your slickened cunt hard and fast, get his cock creamed. But he holds back. He still has work to do and he knows exactly how to take care of you in a way which still allows him to do what he needs to do. 

“Wrists out.”

You obey his orders.

“From now on, your safeword is Red and your life line is humming our song. Understood?” he tells you as he opens his red tie.

“Yes, Sir”, you whimper, leaking all over his desk.

“Good girl. You’re such a good girl when you listen so well.” He pulls your wrists closer, wrapping the tie around them a few times. 

You are heaving. You can’t handle how much all of this excites you. 

“Too tight?” he makes sure, rubbing your knuckles gently. Each touch he places makes you want to scream. You missed it so much. 

“No, just right.”

“That’s good”, he says and lifts your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles. Each of them. Without breaking eye contact. You are truly puddy in his hands. “You know why I have to do this, don’t you?”

“I touched myself without your permission.”

“Exactly, bad girl”, he says with a playful spark in his eyes. 

You have to giggle because of it, writhing on his desk. Off of said desk he lifts you moments later. 

He sits back down on his chair and begins unbuckling his slacks. 

“Tae”, you moan, pressing your legs together. Finally. Finally. Finally. 

He opens his belt, his button, his zipper. He slides his hand inside. Seconds later, it reappears with his cock between his fingers. He’s already hard and throbbing, sitting heavy in his touch.

You ogle him, drooling all over yourself.

“What do you want to do to it?” Taehyung orders you.

“Sit on it.”

“What a naughty girl, mhhhm”, he rolls his head back, arches his back as he puts on a show of jerking himself off.

This is to rile you up, to show you what you currently don’t have.

“Please, can I have it?” you beg, fighting your restrains. 

“Mhm, take it.”

“Oh god, oh god.”

You fail to climb on his lap on your own and so Taehyung helps you with a guiding touch. He even pulls your panties aside for you, holding his cock in place as you sink down on him. It squelches wetly. 

Taehyung tenses his thighs for just a second, biting down on his lower lip as a deep purr rumbles in his chest.

You totally lose it, falling against his chest with your tied up hands trying to grab his shirt. Your lips press against his neck. He smells masculine and clean. 

“Taehyung”, your moan is filled with relief and ecstasy. 

“You weren’t lying. You’re so fucking wet.”

You move instantly. Messily and needily. You move. Move. Get stopped. 

With both hands dimpling your hips, Taehyung is keeping you still. He ignores your pleading whimpers and your distressed gasps. Instead he rolls closer to his desk and straightens up, picking up his pen.

“That’s perfect. Keep my cock warm like this”, he says nonchalantly.

“Wh-what?” you are out of breath, close to tears. You want cock so bad and you finally have it, but he is denying you to move? Does he want to make you cry? You can’t get any more desperate and yet he wants to prove you wrong. 

You lift your head from his neck. Taehyung glances at you.  

“You didn’t think that I’d allow you to move after the stunt you pulled, did you?” he taunts, chewing gum again.

“What stunt?”

He stops chewing, lowering his eyes darkly.

“When you showed yourself like this in front of my men. When you touched yourself without my permission. When you barged into my office and accused me of neglecting you.”

“You have been neglecting me.”

“Careful”, he warns, bucking his hips up.

You moan, rolling your eyes back as your body wobbles in defeat.

Taehyung pulls you closer, keeping you steady that way. He fucks into you again, gritting his teeth while you whimper like a happy slut. Your cunt is so fucking puffy, sucking in his cock greedily. Every voice in his head is telling Taehyung to drop his work and fuck you senseless. But he can’t. He has a point to prove.

“I’m allowing you to be in my office and to sit on my cock, but anymore backtalk and I’ll gag you”, he warns even if talking is hard.

You spill tears.

“Please more.”

He wipes your tears, caressing your chin afterwards.

“Patience, I still have to work”, he tells you and looks back at the papers.

“Oh god, please”, you plead, hiding back in his neck. You want to move, but you can’t because he is keeping an iron grip on your hips. All you can do is sit on his lap with his girthy cock deep inside you. And you can’t even run your hands over him. You wiggle them in their restraints, begging against his neck.

“Please Tae, please.”

“Patience. It’s only been half a minute.”

It felt like three hours. You need him pumping into you. Warming his cock isn’t enough. 

Time passes. You don’t know how much, but it’s too much for you. All you can concentrate on is his cock. He is so hard inside you. So big and girthy. You were never so aware of being filled than you are currently. You can feel every inch sitting inside you and how he is stretching you out. The pit in your stomach is shrinking but it’s still there because you aren’t allowed to move. You clench your pelvic muscles. Electricity runs through you. This helped. When you tense up, you can feel him press against your sensitive spots. 

Dumb in desperation, you start chasing the sensation. You clench, relax, clench, relax. Over and over. It feels so good. You finally have what you had craved for days. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taehyung soon breaks the silence, reminding you that he could feel as well. 

You tense up, feeling dizzy. You forgot that it’s noticeable to him when you clench down. 

“Mhm? What are you doing?” he stresses, digging his thumb into your softness. 

“It hurts.” His touch loosens, but tightens again when you continue whining. “It’s not enough, please let me move.” 

Taehyung takes a deep breath, keeps it in for a moment and exhales it in time with his big hand sliding to the small of your back. 

He gives it a small push, moving you like this. You shudder instantly, leaking on his cock. He moves you again and you pick up on it instantly, meeting his movements needily. 

“Nuh-uh.” He slows you down with just one touch. “Like this. Understood?”

“Yeah”, you whimper, obeying his orders.

“Good girl, such a good girl”, he praises and shifts his attention back to work.

So now he’s got you grinding down on his cock. He is glad that he is sitting because it turns his legs weak. He missed your warmth like nothing else. Concentrating on his work is definitely becoming difficult but he is stubborn. He needs to keep cool a little longer. 

You are in a state of ecstasy, panting and drooling against his neck as you finally have what you craved. You have his cock moving inside you. Now granted, the movements are just small grinds back and forth, but it’s like a drug to you. He shifts deep inside you, prods at your puffy walls and swollen good spots and the folds of his slacks are rubbing against your clit. You have his big hand on your back, rubbing circles into your thinly dressed skin. Everything is just perfect. Taehyung might think he is giving you a punishment with such little movements, but you are in fucking heaven. This is exactly what you needed. 

Taehyung doesn’t realise the gravity of his mistake up until the point you suddenly tense up and squeak his name. But by then it is already too late. He has you throbbing around him seconds later as you orgasm as if you never had before.

You whimper, trying so hard not to shake and tremble, but Taehyung can feel it nonetheless. It’s squeezing his cock. 

“You fucking-”, Taehyung growls, throwing his pen aside. His composure is broken. He stands up with you and swipes his desk clean just so he can lie you down on it. He takes your hands and pins then above your head, staring down at you with crazed eyes and gritted teeth. “You’re such a fucking temptress. How dare you cum like that.”

You are barely present after your high, writhing and twitching on the desk. He thrusts his hips. Consciousness returns. The sensitive, fucked state of you is obvious again. 

You squeak his name and arch your back as your eyes finally meet his’. His pupils are blown out, he has a sense of craze in his face. 

“I should tie a vibrator to you and leave you shaking by my feet for what you’re doing to me”, he spits as he finally drills his cock into you. Hard and rough. The desk shakes because of it. Your body does as well. “I have work to do and you’re messing with my schedule. I should punish you, but fuck”, he buries himself as deep as possible and write his name against your walls, “you fucked me up. Just wanna pound into you”, he laughs lazily, following it up with a lulled “fuuck.”

“Harder please”, you beg, riding on the high with your head turning. 

Taehyung fulfills your wish with a growl. His fingers dig into the softness of your thighs so he can keep you in place as he fucks you into a state of senseless on his desk. You answer his guttural growls with high pitched wails of gratefulness. You finally have what you needed. You have his entire attention. And it feels so fucking good. 

It is finally obvious to you how much Taehyung missed you too. He only fucks like that when he hasn’t been with you for a while. He only grips you with such strength when his fingers hadn’t felt your softness in ages. He is only so out of breath when your air hasn’t filled his addicted lungs for some time. 

“I missed you”, he gets out. 

You meet his eyes. Tears escape you easily. He slows down and leans over you to wipe them gently. A moment of tenderness in the passion. A moment to remind you that he loves no person as much and as deeply as he loves you.

“I missed you so fucking much”, he rasps and slides his hand to your neck to rest on it. No pressure. Just contact. His hips pick up speed, claiming you as his’ in more ways than one. 

And you roll your eyes back without closing them, melting into the desk as he rearranges your insides. The pit is finally being filled. The fire is finally burning you again. You are so happy, moaning his name as loudly as possible. 

“Yes baby, moan for me. It turns me on. Moan for me.”

His guards just right outside the door are non-existent to you and him right now. The fact that they most definitely can hear you, hasn’t sunk in yet. You and Taehyung are lost in passion. You have to pick up on days of absence, you have to fuck until the desperation is finally gone from your systems. Fuck, you need each other so fucking bad. 

“You feel so good, my good girl. Love filling you with my cock. So good, fuck so good. You’re taking me like such a good girl”, Taehyung is babbling. He always gets like this when the sex just hits right. He loses control over his tongue and begins spitting whatever dirty thoughts run through his foggy mind. “My good girl, my fucking slut. Look at you. Fuck.”

His right hand cups your tits, playing with them roughly. The touch is heaven. Even through the material of your lingerie you can feel it.

“Taehyung”, you wail, arching into his touch.

“I hate that you thought I don’t wanna fuck you in this. Shit, I want you like fucking crazy”, he moans and gives your tits a gentle spank. Just hard enough that they jiggle for a moment, but still gentle enough that no pain shoots over your skin. 

You still sob and mewl for him, writhing on the desk like a woman brought to her limits. And you are. He is bringing you to your limits, pushing you right past them because he is twisted like that.

“Fuck, you’re cumming again?” he slows down.

“Don’t stop please. Faster!”

And you enjoy every second of it because you are just as twisted. It burns so deep when he is rough during your orgasm and you need it to continue burning.

“Urgh fine”, he is tensing his jaw, furrowing his brows, “you’re so tight. Your pussy’s sucking me off. Shit, ah- babygirl ahm mhh urgh.”

Taehyung wants to crumble on the floor. Every inch of his body is electric. You have him so high. And it doesn’t stop. His cock is throbbing. He swears he hasn’t been that hard in ages. He might actually pass out from how much blood is shooting to his dick. But he’s got a deal to fulfil. He promised you relief and Taehyung isn’t going to disappoint. He isn’t the type to break deals. No matter how much they ruin him. And you are ruining him like nothing else. 

You are so tight after your high, so wet that it is difficult for his cock not to slip out. It’s squelching out of you, messing up not only your connected bodies but his desk as well.

“You’ll be the death of me”, he gets out.

“More.”

“More?” he squeaks out, following it up with a disbelieved laugh, “how much hotter do you wanna be burn?”

“Until I’m reduced to piles of ash”, you croak and grab his wrist with your tied hands. You guide it to your middle. 

Taehyung picks up on your silent message instantly, rubbing circles into your puffy clit. 

“No”, you mewl, “stick them in, please.”

Taehyung growls needily. He gets a little dumb in pleasure when you reach the point where you beg for what you want without shame. He is so obsessed with you it’s crazy. 

Taehyung slows down to make it easier and slips one of his fingers into your cunt. The tightness makes both of you gasp.

“I’m going insane, fuck”, Taehyung croaks, staring at the pretty view obsessively. His huge cock inside you, his finger right beside it, your puffy lips moving around him and your red lace panties stretching against his shaft. “You’re so stuffed with me. Does it feel good to you?” 

“Another.”

“Shit, you’re actually killing me.”

His second digit fills you just as easily, pressing against your swollen g-spot. You whimper and squirm, tensing around him. He glances at your face. It is scrunched up, skin glistening in a layer of sweat and pleasurable tears.

“Too much?” he makes sure.

“No, perfect. Please move”, you squeak out.

Taehyung huffs out air, giving you exactly what you ask of him. The friction is unbearable, the pressure around his cock is making his knees shake but he keeps moving. You are moaning so prettily for him, stretching your tied up arms above your head as if you wanted to reach for the stars he is making you see. 

“My perfect woman. Urgh my…pretty….slut….my princess, urgh…is this what you…wanted?” 

“Yes, yes, yes”, you squeal and keen, glowing in happiness.

“So beautiful, I’m going insane”, he moans and wraps his unoccupied hand around your neck again. No pressure, just warmth. He doesn’t have to squeeze down to let you know that you belong to him. Not that you need a reminder. You belong to him willingly. 

It was over for you the moment your eyes locked. You had been his’ ever since you shared this fateful cigarette in the dark alleyway while the rain poured down on you. You are his’. No amount of distance will ever change this. 

His hand around your throat is nothing but a warm reminder that he feels the same. His palms are soft, his heavy rings are hard and warmed up from his body heat. The touch is so tender, contradicting to what his other hand was currently doing to you. He is curling his long fingers as best as your tight walls allow him to, matching the rhythm with that of his eager hips. You stopped moaning because you lost the connection to your voice. Breathe. You have to concentrate on breathing otherwise you might pass out. 

“Fuck, I can feel you clenching again. My good girl, taking me so well and looking so pretty doing it. Shit, my slut, fuck sorry I meant my pretty girl. Urgh baby, are you cumming again?”

You give him a small, fragile squeak then break on his digits and cock. You squirt all over him within seconds, screaming his name because it is all you can do. 

“Yes fuck.” He abandons your neck and presses down on your stomach to the point where you can’t tell whether he is still making you squirt or you are already pissing yourself. You don’t mind, riding the feeling with messy tears and a snotty nose. His documents and clothes are ruined, but you can’t stop. 

“Give me everything, that’s my good babygirl. I love it when you fucking wet yourself like that. Shit, I can’t do this for long anymore. Getting sensitive, mh-hm.”

“Please cum inside.”

His hips falter.

“Please, please, ah! Please!” you beg him, making up for the loss of movement by wiggling your hips until he finally picks up his rough pace again.

Taehyung leans down, pinning you against the desk with his bigger frame. He slips his fingers free from your tight cunt, so he can wrap his arm around you. His left hand closes around your throat, his lips are pressed to your ear as he talks dirty to you.

“I’m gonna cum so good for you, doll. I saved up so much for you. Gonna fill you up with all of it until you’re dripping.”

“Please, please, please”, you beg with tears in your eyes.

“Yeah? You want this cum?”

“Yes please, yes please.”

“Shit babygirl, urgh”, Taehyung growls through gritted teeth, squeezing down on your neck as he empties his heavy balls into your cunt. 

You can feel it shoot out of him and cover your walls to the point where you can’t keep it inside anymore. It drips onto the floor, messing up his cock and balls.

“Take my cum. Fuck, such a good girl. You’re made for my cum, urgh fuck”, Taehyung talks himself through it, holding you against him in his strong, protective arm. And you wail his name, wishing for his sticky cum to stay inside forever. 

He slacks against you after his high, dropping with a whimper of your name. 

“What the fuck, woah”, he gets out, trembling in the aftershocks. “Are you okay?”

“Yes”, you get out weakly.

“I kid you not. Fuck”, he exhales deeply. “Put your arms around me.” 

You obey his orders, mewling weakly when he lifts you off the desk and sits you down on him as he sinks into the chair in defeat. His cum oozes out and squelches everywhere, but it’s only a little amount compared to how much was still inside you.

He slacks against the chair, gazing up at you with half lidded eyes. Sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead. He unties your hands.

“Do they hurt?”

“No”, you assure him, touching him instantly. He feels so strong and warm under your hands. His heart is racing so much. You needed this reminder. The reminder that you can still raise his pulse.

Taehyung closes his eyes halfway. “I love you”, he lulls, following it up with a smile.

“I love you too”, you whisper, lowering your eyes just sadly enough that he worries.

He furrows his brows, tilting your head up with two fingers under your chin.

“What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head.

“Talk to me.”

“Can I be kissed?”

His features soften.

“You’re so cute. Of course you can. Come here, babydoll”, he says and slides his big hand to the nape of your neck to guide you into a kiss. 

You melt into it with a fluttering heart and no thought in your brain except the repeated cheers about how much you love him. You roll your hips down into him. He tenses up, breaking the kiss with a whiney chuckle.

“What are you doing?” 

“Please don’t go back to working, please I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

“I won’t work, just…” He arches his back. “Give me time to recover, ah too sensitive.”

“Please Tae”, you beg, grinding down on him despite his begs.

“Fuck, did I really neglect you that much that you can’t be satisfied no matter what I do?” he groans.

“Yes”, you get out and pull him into a kiss.

“I’m sorry. Shit, gotta make it up to you then”, he mumbles between kisses, hugging you against him as you giggle into the kisses. “Come here you adorable temptress you.”

“Ah Tae. Wait. That tickles”, you squeak in laughter as you and he lose yourselves in a tingly, passionate dance of grinding, kisses and love bites.

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 6. the fight

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Word of Joel's indiscretion spreads quickly through town, leading to a vicious fight. When Joel begins to worry you may never forgive him, he sets into motion a plan to win you back.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, previous infidelity mentioned, violence (fist fight), blood, bruises, jealousy/possessiveness

WC: 8K

Series Masterlist

The thought of leaving your bed was excruciating.

For nearly three days, you could hardly do much more than use the bathroom and drink some water. When you heard Joel leave for patrol, his footsteps always pausing hesitantly on the other side of your door before begrudgingly going down the steps, you would eventually drag yourself downstairs and force yourself to eat something. Anything. It didn't really matter. You didn't crave anything. Didn't look forward to a single thing except the sweet embrace of sleep. But by the fourth day, you knew you would have to go back to work or else Nick would make a house call to check on you.

You had lied and said you hurt your back so you could get out of working for a few days, but enough time had passed, enough tears were shed, enough pity was wasted when you finally forced yourself to get up one morning and take a shower.

It helped more than you thought it would. The steam billowing around you in the confined space, the warm water pummeling your shoulders, working out the kinks in your muscles from too many hours hunched over in agony. If you had any self-awareness, you might have asked yourself why you had such a powerful reaction to Joel kissing someone else. If you had a clear enough mind, you might have remembered you didn't even react this badly when you woke from your accident only to discover your whole family was dead and the world went to hell.

No, you only seemed to fall into a deep depression over Joel finding comfort from another woman.

And not just any woman. Angie.

It still made your blood boil as you slipped on clean clothes for work. You should have known she was a shark, smelling blood in the water that very first night when she cornered you in the bathroom.

And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to accuse you of not caring. Not giving a shit about him, to be exact.

That fucking asshole.

When you came down the stairs and spotted the coffee maker still on with your favorite mug next to the carafe, you scoffed and kept walking to grab your coat. As much as you wanted some coffee, you were too stubborn to accept Joel's shitty gesture.

The winter sun was blinding against the snow. Or maybe your eyes were just too swollen and dry, too accustomed to staying in the darkness of your bedroom for days on end, but whatever it was caused you to wince and rub your face.

"Hey! You're alive!" you heard Ellie's voice call out from the driveway. She was walking up the path at the exact same time as you with her backpack slung over one shoulder and her winter jacket unzipped.

"Yeah, barely," you replied, wishing you had some of the coffee Joel had left behind. You took the porch steps carefully and met her out on the sidewalk, your pupils finally adjusting to the brightness. "How's it going, kid?"

She opened her mouth to reply but paused, giving you a funny look.

"What's wrong?" you asked, unable to read her expression.

"Nothing, just that nickname... took me by surprise," she laughed with a shake of her head, "you used to call me that before. Haven't heard it in a long time, I guess." You shielded your eyes and shrugged.

"Common nickname, I suppose," you reasoned, and she nodded in agreement.

"How's the back?" she asked with a point, and you almost had to ask her what she was talking about before you remembered your lie.

"Oh! Much better, thanks. Must've pulled a muscle or something, who knows."

"Well, that's good. Listen, I gotta get to school, but do you wanna get dinner later with me and Dina? Seth's making mac and cheese, and it's like, the fucking best, dude," she said excitedly, and you didn't have the heart to say no.

"Yeah, sounds great," you smiled, then gave her a quick wave before heading in the opposite direction towards the infirmary.

It was only a short ten minute walk to work, but the fresh air combined with stretching your muscles for the first time in days really did something to improve your mood. By the time you pushed open the door to the infirmary, you were actually looking forward to working again.

And so was Nick, apparently, because his eyes lit up and his body sagged with relief when he saw you.

"I was a few hours away from sneaking you the good pills and begging you to come back," he joked, then his face turned serious. "Everything alright? What happened?"

"Oh, I'm fine," you said, waving off his concern, "I slipped on some ice and pulled a muscle, it's all good now."

"Well, be careful out there, alright? You're the best aide I have."

"I'm the only aide you have," you corrected him before hanging up your jacket. "What do you need me to do?"

The morning went by fast. Nick had told you in the few days you were out, the clinic wasn't terribly busy, but he unfortunately did fall behind on housekeeping. So you busied yourself running loads of sheets and blankets to the laundry, then sanitizing equipment until Mr. Phillips came in after lunch with a laceration on his arm from working in the stables. It wasn't a bad injury, but it required some cleaning and a few stitches, which you were secretly eager to observe. You wanted to get more exposure to stitching in the hopes of being able to take care of non-emergency injuries by yourself one day.

It felt good to feel useful again. Staying busy forced your mind off Joel and the whole mess waiting for you at home, and you were grateful for the distraction. So much so that you decided to stay a little longer than usual and fold the linens that came back from the laundry. You were killing two birds with one stone: staying busy and avoiding going home in between work and dinner. By now, you knew he'd be back and likely waiting for you, and you still had no idea what you would say.

As the sun began to set and the world outside the infirmary grew darker, you slid your coat back on and locked the door behind you before heading for the dining hall.

Shoving your hands deep into your pockets, you tucked your chin against your chest, feet carrying you swiftly through the streets, eyes cast down and avoiding others as best you could. When you arrived at the dining hall, it was packed, per usual, but you did manage to spot Ellie and Dina holding a small table in the back of the room. As you weaved your way through the crowd, you noticed they were sharing some bread and butter and you felt your stomach rumble. For the first time in days, you felt excited to eat.

"Hey," you said in greeting as you dropped your coat over the back of an empty chair before giving them each a half hug. "Freezing out there."

"Give it a second. It's hotter than hell in here," Dina joked before pushing the basket of bread in your direction. You plopped down into your chair and moaned when you felt the bread was still warm, then tore off little pieces and popped them into your mouth.

"Hungry?" Ellie asked, only partially joking as you nodded vigorously.

"Did you order the mac and cheese yet?"

"Yeah, didn't want him to run out," she replied as she eased back into her chair and turned her head toward Dina. "Do you see Chris and Holly over there? What are they thinking? They know that shit'll get back to Claire. What a bunch of assholes."

"Who?" you asked, your voice muffled around the bread.

"Couple of kids in our class," Dina explained, nodding towards the other side of the hall. You twisted around, your eyes scanning the crowd until you saw a younger couple sitting together, the girl sitting on the guy's lap and toying with his hair. "That's Chris, and he's been dating this girl, Claire, for like, what? Six months or so? And look at him. Letting that hussy crawl all over him. Men are pigs."

You choked on your laughter and took a swig of water. If only they knew.

Ellie's eyes lit up as she looked at something behind you, and you turned around to follow her gaze, spotting Seth as he made his way through the crowd with three plates of mac and cheese. However, just over his left shoulder you happened to notice Joel for the first time since you arrived, but by the looks of it, it was not the first time he noticed you.

He was sitting at his usual table with Tommy and another guy from patrol you vaguely recognized, the other two men engrossed in conversation while Joel pinned you with his stare. You quickly turned away, your cheeks feeling flush, and tried to focus on your dinner.

"Shit, this looks amazing," you said, distracted by the cheesy, piping hot dish set in front of you.

"I'm telling you, man, it's the fucking best," Ellie told you before digging in. You had to stifle a moan when the food hit your tongue for the first time, eternally grateful for the impeccable timing because all you could think about in that moment was how good it tasted, Joel temporarily forgotten for the first time in days.

"Didn't you eat today?" Dina asked, her lips twitching into a grin, and you shook your head.

"Not really. Haven't had much of an appetite this week," you told her, and Ellie tilted her head to the side.

"Your pain was that bad?"

"Huh?" you asked, then it dawned on you once again. The Lie. "Oh, yeah. I mean, I ate a little, I just wanted to sleep, I guess."

"Joel didn't make sure you ate?" she pressed, her eyes flicking over your shoulder. You dropped your fork, scrambling to come up with yet another lie when her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, making you twist around to see what made her demeanor change so suddenly.

As you expected, she was looking in Joel's direction, but he was no longer looking at your table. It was impossible considering Angie was standing directly in front of him, blocking his view with her body, her hand resting on the back of his chair.

"What is she up to now?" Dina murmured to Ellie, but you could hardly register her words. The way your anger ignited deep within your chest and licked up your throat, it was a miracle you even remembered to breathe. Joel's legs shifted, knees turned away from her, but that was all you could see. You couldn't see the look on his face or hear what was said. You couldn't see where his hands were. But you could see Angie flick her long, straight hair over her shoulder with a flirty laugh that was clearly meant to pull attention onto her.

If you didn't have tunnel vision, you would have noticed she was successful. A few heads turned, men's eyes lingering on her backside while women's eyes darted in your direction, but you were incapable of processing any of it. Ellie was saying your name, but you couldn't hear her over the ringing in your ears.

It was less than a minute. Thirty seconds, tops, and she walked away from him with a sickly grin plastered across her face, her two friends returning her mischievous smile before flanking her side, making their way towards the exit like a swarm of bees.

Without even thinking, you stood up.

"What are you doing?" Ellie asked, but you ignored her. Instead, you pushed your way through the crowd in a trance, shouldering people out of your way without so much as an apology, too laser focused on your target to care.

"Joel!" Ellie called out to him. He was rubbing his face angrily, trying to avoid his brother's eyes glaring at him in disbelief over what he just overheard Angie say when he heard Ellie. Great, she knows, too, he initially thought, but when he looked up and saw Ellie and Dina, panic-stricken, making their way towards the exit, he realized something was happening. He didn't see you until you emerged from the crowd and reached for the door, swinging it open and allowing a cool blast of air into the room before disappearing outside.

"Oh, shit," Joel mumbled, snatching his coat and forcing his way through all the people as quickly as he could. Tommy followed, confused at first, until he realized you were no longer at your table and then it clicked.

By the time you made it outside, you nearly missed where they went, but luck was on your side because her high-pitched giggle danced through the bitter cold air and you twisted your head to the left, just in time to see the three women in the shadow of night round a corner and head down a residential street.

You were nearly running to catch up with them, but you couldn't feel your feet hit the ground or hear the gravel crunching under your boots. And neither did they, because when you found yourself less than ten feet away, they were still giggling and talking animatedly amongst themselves, completely oblivious to your presence.

Skidding to a stop, you shouted, "Hey!"

All three women swirled around in surprise, their eyes wide and their smiles slipping from their faces when they sensed the rage radiating from your body. But even still, Angie tried to play dumb.

"Can we help you?" she asked sarcastically with a dry laugh, but when you took a step forward, she went quiet.

"Yeah," you sneered, fists clenching at your sides, "I had a question for you, actually."

Angie looked perplexed, not expecting that, so she held her hands out to her side, urging you to continue while Ellie and Dina caught up, standing a few paces back.

"Did you run out of dick to suck in this town or are you just that fucking bored you thought you'd give home wrecking a try?"

Dina snickered behind you and Ellie gasped.

"Home wrecking?" she replied, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. "Is that what you'd call your man following me into the ladies room at the bar so he could shove his tongue down my throat?"

Your nostrils flared and your ears began to make that buzzing noise again, so you dug your nails into your palms, desperately trying to ground yourself.

"Can I even call him your man?" she taunted, feeling like she got the upper hand. "Are you even together anymore? You clearly don't fuck him if he was looking for it from-"

You couldn't even remember moving. Your feet had a mind of their own as you closed the distance between you with two long strides and swung your arm back with as much force as you could muster, backhanding Angie right across the mouth.

Her hands flew up to her face and her two friends stumbled backwards in surprise, but all you saw was red. Before she could recover, you grabbed her by the coat and threw her down onto the muddy street, knocking the wind out of her with a sharp gasp. Quickly, before she could get up, you straddled her midsection. With your left hand pressing down on her chest and your right balled into a fist near your head, you landed a punch right on her perfect little nose with a sickening crunch, causing a trail of blood to trickle out of her nostrils seconds later. But that didn't stop you. You kept going, your knuckles, now bloody, marring her flesh over and over again, but when you made contact with her jawbone, you flinched, a jolt of pain shooting down your middle finger making you pause.

That was when Angie saw her opportunity.

She vaulted you off her with her hips and she rolled to her side, pinning you to the ground with blood dripping down her face. She scratched desperately at your eyes and mouth, your hands coming up to protect yourself with a yelp, before she began landing weak punches against your cheek and mouth. And even though they weren't as forceful as your hits, her weight pinning you down kept you from reclaiming the upper hand.

Ellie and Dina were shouting your name, but you tuned them out. All you could focus on was Angie, blocking her punches as best you could while you waited for your opportunity to take her down.

Then, Angie's hand wrapped around your throat, her fingers pressing into your windpipe. Your hands grabbed her wrist as you fought for air and violently thrashed underneath her.

"Face it," she hissed, leaning down and putting more pressure against your throat, "If it was that easy, I was doing you a favor. He never really loved you, you were just an easy fuck before your brain got all scrambled."

Her words were exactly what you needed to get your second wind.

With an angry roar, you punched her right in the throat, and although you couldn't get much force behind it, it was enough to make her loosen her grip in surprise. And just as Tommy and Joel were running up the street, you tossed Angie to the side and scrambled back on top of her. But this time, you didn't stop.

You were merciless, your hands were a blur. Fists rained down blows upon her face while she desperately tried to shield herself, but it was no use.

"Stop!" she sobbed, begging, but the fear in her voice just egged you on.

Blood began to stain her yellow hair, her perfect skin began to turn red and purple while your fists never stopped, each blow creating a new mark or cut. You couldn't stop if you tried. Something snapped and you unlocked a part of yourself you didn't know, or didn't remember, existed. Some part of you that was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor. And it wasn't until Joel hooked his arms underneath yours and hauled you back that you finally stopped, your chest heaving and your eyes wild.

"Y-you crazy b-bitch!" Angie sputtered, blood trickling from her nose and mouth as Tommy knelt in front of her.

"You haven't seen crazy!" you screamed as you kicked and struggled to get out of Joel's grip. Tommy reached down to help Angie up and he motioned for her friends to come forward. "Stay the fuck away from us or I'll fucking kill you!" you shouted, "You hear me, you fucking whore? I will fucking kill you!"

"Calm down!" Joel yelled from behind, but your blood boiled as you focused your rage on him.

"Get your fucking hands off me," you snarled, wrenching your arms out of his grasp. "This is your fault!" you continued, pointing your finger in his face and backing away, ignoring the tortured look he gave you. A sick part of you was pleased to see the sting of your words land.

"I think she needs to see Nick," Tommy said as both of Angie's friends struggled to help her up.

"She's lucky she's alive," you snapped as you wiped the back of your hand over your bloody face.

"Holy shit, dude," Ellie murmured as you turned around, her eyes all wide with shock.

"I'm going home," you grumbled, wiping more blood from your cheek as you began the journey back to your house on shaky legs, wondering how on earth you were expected to share a space with Joel after tonight. Dina and Ellie exchanged some quick words as you left before Ellie quickly caught up with you.

"I'll clean you up."

"You don't-"

"I know. But I want to," she said, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, and it took everything in you not to lean into her and let her drag you home.

You were exhausted. Mentally and physically. And you just wanted to go to bed. But you were grateful for Ellie. Someone who cared, someone who saw you were hurting and needed help without having to ask for it. So you let her clean you up in your bathroom when you arrived back home, her nimble fingers delicately pressing against your wounds, cleansing them as best she could before pressing band aids and butterfly bandages against your cuts and then making you an ice pack to help with the swelling.

She tucked you into bed and made you drink some water before sitting down on the edge of your mattress with a sigh.

"I had no idea," she began, and you quickly waved her off.

"I know. It's... I know," you said, at a loss for words.

"You didn't really hurt your back, did you?" she asked, and you slowly shook your head. "That motherfucker," she seethed, "I can't believe him, I'm going to kill him, I swear-"

"Just leave him alone," you told her, "Let me handle it."

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, each of you lost in your own thoughts before she spoke again.

"It wasn't like that before," she began, and at first you weren't following, but then you realized: she was talking about before your accident. "You were crazy about each other. Angie was never an issue. Neither of you paid her any attention. She just saw an opportunity and took advantage," Ellie said as her fingers tangled in her lap. "I shouldn't even be saying this, it feels like I'm defending him, but I swear. I was with you guys all the time. You were in love, man."

"Things changed, I guess," you said sadly, but she shook her head.

"You guys are what inspired me and Dina to go for it," she said softly, avoiding your gaze. "We were scared, but I saw how you two were together and how you made it work and, I don't know," she said, picking at her fingernail, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I look up to you guys. And it's kind of fucking with my head right now that all this is happening."

"Ellie, no," you said, shifting a bit in bed and reaching out to her. "Don't say that. Don't question what you and Dina have because of me and Joel."

She swallowed and looked at you, her eyes soft and worried.

"Why did he do it?" she asked quietly, and you could hear the pain in her voice. Pressing your lips together, you shrugged.

"It's complicated."

She nodded and looked away. "Will you do me a favor?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Would you give him a chance? Just hear him out and let him explain?" she begged, and you immediately bristled. "You don't have to forgive him. Just... don't give up yet. Please. He loves you, I know it, and... and I think you love him, too."

You scoffed then cleared your throat, your fingers coming up to press gently on your tender neck. "I don't love him," you croaked, but she shook her head.

"If you don't love him then why do you care so much?" she countered, and you fell silent, unable to give her an answer, eyes drifting aimlessly around the room. "Why did you almost kill Angie for sleeping with him if you didn't love him?"

"Sleeping with - no, Ellie. They didn't have sex. He kissed her," you quickly explained, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You rearranged her face because he kissed her?" she asked in disbelief, then laughed softly and stood up. "I'm not saying he didn't fuck up, but dude. Come on. You gotta see it, now, right?"

You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes.

"Alright. For you, I'll... talk to him, or whatever," you grumbled half-heartedly.

"Thank you," she said, her voice sounding more like herself once again before turning to leave and allowing you to rest. If you had any inkling she was trying to manipulate you into forgiving Joel, it was quickly expunged because you awoke an hour later to her arguing with him in the living room when he arrived home, the conversation ending with her storming out of the house and then his weary footsteps slowly climbing up the stairs.

Once again, you watched as he paused outside your room, two narrow shadows cast by his legs breaking up the thin beam of light under your door until he thought better of it and kept walking, his own bedroom door closing softly with a click.

The pain was worse the next morning, but you refused to admit it. The cuts burned and the bruises throbbed, but you were too stubborn to let any weakness show, although one look at your bruised neck would tell anyone the truth. You forced yourself out of bed, feeling too guilty to bail on Nick after already taking so many days off to wallow in your own misery, and washed up before heading downstairs. Much to your surprise, Joel was sitting at the kitchen table, his big hand cupping a mug of coffee while he stared blankly at the wall, lost in his own thoughts. When you first saw his face, the bags under his eyes evident, even from across the room, it was clear he hardly got any sleep.

Good, you thought. Then you remembered your promise to Ellie and bit back whatever nasty remark you were getting ready to toss his way. Instead, you dragged yourself to the coffee maker, ignoring the mug Joel left out for you and choosing your own, unable to resist the urge to be just a little bit spiteful.

He cleared his throat as you poured your coffee, a warning he was about to speak, and your shoulders tensed.

"How're you feelin'?"

"About as good as I look," you muttered, bringing the coffee to your lips and taking a tiny sip before turning around. He looked up at you, for the first time seeing the extent of your injuries and he jolted forward in his chair, fighting back the instinct to stand up and inspect your wounds. He blinked rapidly, gaze skirting over your face and neck, worry etching his features until you sighed.

"It's not really that bad," you admitted, looking down at your feet.

"Tell Nick t'give you somethin' when you get to work," he said, voice strained. You nodded and took another sip of your coffee. He swallowed nervously before inching forward in his chair and clasping his hands between his knees. "I'm sorry," he said, the words laced with guilt and shame. "I'm so sorry, I fucked up. But you gotta believe me, I didn't go out that night lookin' for her or anyone else. I just wanted to drink and be alone for a little while." He rubbed his palms over his face while you still stared down at the floor, listening.

"I believe you," you finally said after a tense stretch of silence. He dropped his hands and looked up.

"You do?"

"Doesn't mean I forgive you, but I believe you didn't run out of here looking to shove your tongue down someone else's throat."

He grimaced and dropped his chin to his chest.

"D'you think-" he cut himself off and took a deep breath before forcing himself to look at you again. "D'you think you could ever forgive me?"

You closed your eyes and pressed your lips into a thin line.

"I don't know," you said quietly. Your head was pounding, so you rubbed your forehead, his eyes trained on you anxiously from across the room, knee bouncing slightly as he waited to hear you say anything that would give him a glimmer of hope. "You really fucking hurt me, Joel," you said, trying to hide your lower lip as it trembled, but he heard the pain in your voice and it broke his heart.

"I know, I'm an asshole and I don't deserve you. I never did. Not after what happened at the hospital and definitely not now," he said, standing up and taking a few hesitant steps in your direction, stopping when he reached the kitchen island. "But I'll do whatever it takes. I'll wait as long as I need to, I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you, prove to you that-"

"I don't want to lead you on, Joel," you said solemnly, eyes watering. "I can't promise I'll ever move past it. I'm not sure we're strong enough to get through this."

"Yes, we are," he told you adamantly, "I don't want anyone else. I only want you. You ain't leadin' me on because I don't wanna go anywhere else. I don't care what that looks like in the future, I'll take whatever you give me, that's all I want."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the wobble in his voice, and looked into the living room, the framed photo of your house that Ellie drew for you several Christmases ago, the same one you read about in your journal, catching your eye, and you felt yourself tear up.

I just want to go home, you thought, but home no longer existed. This was your home, like it or not.

You turned away, looking out the window over the sink blinking back tears, but Joel had already followed your gaze to the photo.

"I should get going," you said, voice thick. You chugged whatever coffee you could and dumped the rest in the sink.

"I'm gonna make it up to you," he said, following you to the door, "I'm gonna make this right." You scoffed.

"Yeah, okay," you mumbled sarcastically, shoving on your boots and coat before swinging open the door and heading out into the frigid winter morning, big flakes of snow slowly swirling and falling from the sky as Joel watched you trudge down the street, hunched over and curled in on yourself. A shell of the person he knew you to be.

He did that. He caused you pain. And it made him sick.

But at least he finally thought of a way he could prove how much you meant to him.

Sweat covered your forehead by the time you made it to the infirmary, your wool knit cap to blame for the excessive heat pouring from your head while your face was ice cold. You yanked it off your head and shed your coat before making your way to the back, your hair sticking to your forehead. Nick was nowhere to be found, but one of the exam room doors was closed and you heard voices murmuring on the other side. Assuming he had an early patient, you pulled your hair back and got to work. It was supposed to be a quiet day. Nick wanted you to work on an updated inventory list after getting a big batch of supplies two weeks prior from an unexplored hole-in-the-wall pharmacy.

The exam room door swung open, the voices clearer now, and your shoulders stiffened when you recognized the patient. You should have assumed Angie would be there that day, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to you.

Your anger had diffused a bit since the night before, that raw, exposed nerve quelled by time, but that didn't stop you from glaring at her as she passed by the inventory closet. Her swollen eyes widened with fear when she saw you and for the first time, you got a good look at the damage you inflicted. Her nose was clearly broken, she was missing a tooth and both eyes were black and blue, but the cuts on her cheeks and lips were superficial, at best.

She kept walking, not daring to say a word in your direction as your eyes followed her out the door. When she left, Nick turned around with a sigh and crossed his arms.

"How're you feeling?"

You shrugged and turned back to your clipboard. "I'm alright."

"You look like shit," he said, sidling up next to you and plucking the ibuprofen from the shelf. He tapped out two pills and dropped them into your palm before closing the bottle, putting it back where it belonged. "Did you eat?"

With just a shake of your head you popped the pills, swallowing them dry before turning back to your task.

"You gotta eat something with those, it'll tear up your stomach," he said, disappearing down the hallway and coming back a few minutes later with an apple. You grimaced but took it anyway, unable to stop your mind from replaying the memory of peeling apples with Joel just a week prior. Before everything went to hell.

Nick watched you quietly for a moment as you chewed your apple slowly and read down the list of medications on your clipboard.

"Do you, uh," he began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, "do you need someone to talk to?" You glanced up at him in surprise and he dropped his hand back to his side. "We don't have to talk about it. But I know you still feel like you're a stranger in this town, and that's gotta be tough." He scratched his greying chin as he glanced around the room and you had to fight back the laugh that bubbled up your throat. You couldn't help it.

He noticed the amused look on your face at his discomfort and pretended to be annoyed when he muttered, "just come find me if you wanna talk or whatever," but you knew it was just an act. Nick was typically a quiet man, kept to himself and hardly ever spoke to his patients, let alone you, his employee, about personal matters. The fact he was trying now must mean he really thought you needed it.

The older man disappeared down the hall to his office and you smiled to yourself, then focused back on work, grateful for something that took your mind off your misery, even if it was just for a moment.

"What the hell do you want?" Tommy scowled when he flung open his door to find his older brother waiting on the other side, hands shoved deep in his pockets, weight shifting foot to foot in an effort to keep warm.

"C'mon, Tommy, I'm gettin' it from all angles, here."

"I don't give a shit," he spat, turning on his heel to retreat back into the house, but left the front door open. Joel took a step inside and quietly shut the door behind him, glancing around the entryway and peering into the living room as he took off his outerwear.

"Maria home?"

"No, she's down at the stables with Violet. Showin' her the horses, gettin' her outta the house," he grumbled, angrily putting away dishes as he spoke. Joel sighed and flattened his palms against the counter.

"I gotta ask for a favor."

Tommy scoffed and shook his head. "You're a piece of work, y'know that?"

"Yeah, I fuckin' know. Jesus Christ, Tommy, I made one goddamn mistake!" Joel yelled, slapping his hand against the cool countertop. Tommy twisted around, brow furrowed, and crossed his arms.

"Don't take an attitude with me," Tommy said through clenched teeth, "I don't give a shit if everyone's gangin' up on you. You deserve it! I thought she was the one you wanted to spend your life with? The one you'd do anythin' for?"

"She is!" Joel exclaimed, raking his fingers through his hair. Tommy's eyes softened while he watched his brother struggle, the enormity of what he did clearly taking its toll.

"Then what the fuck were you thinkin'?" he asked after a few moments, tone pleading. "Everythin' was goin' so well. You guys were havin' a nice time at the party, laughin' and smilin', we all saw it. Then you take 'er home and step out like that?"

"It's not- I was drunk and misread some things," Joel replied, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. "I tried to kiss her, she shot me down and I didn't take it all that well, alright?" Joel dropped his hand, exasperated, and looked at Tommy once again, taking a deep breath. "Went to the bar to drink and Angie sunk her claws into me. I got the hell outta there and confessed the second I got home but... didn't matter," he said, hanging his head between his shoulders.

"Angie said you followed her into the bathroom, Joel. Don't bullshit me, I was sittin' right there."

"I know, Jesus, it's my fault. I was drinkin' and upset and she was just... there. Pesterin' me and pushin' my buttons. It was only a second, Tommy. Nothin' else happened, y'hear me?" Joel's eyes were wide and desperate as he stared at his little brother across the kitchen.

"It's no excuse, Joel," Tommy said sadly. Joel pushed off the counter with a huff and yanked angrily at his disheveled hair again.

"I know that. I'm just tellin' you how it went down. But I gotta make it up to her. I gotta make it right."

"How the hell do you plan on doin' that? 'Cause from where I'm sittin', only way she could move past it is if I take her back out into the woods so she can hit her head again and forget," Tommy said.

Joel rolled his eyes and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.

"I got an idea. Don't know if it'll work, but it's all I can think of to prove what she means to me," he said softly, staring down at his fingers twisting together in his lap.

Tommy sized his brother up and down before taking a few steps closer, his hands coming to grip the back of a chair as he leaned forward.

"Let's hear it."

Joel sighed and tilted his chin up. "I need a week off from patrol. I gotta leave Jackson. And I need a horse."

"What?" Tommy asked incredulously. "In the middle of winter? Absolutely not. You'll die out there."

"I survived out there before I came to Jackson, I'll be fine."

"Been a long fuckin' time and you weren't alone when you did it," Tommy argued.

"You offerin' to help?" Joel asked, and Tommy laughed dryly. But Joel continued to stare at him.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"'Course I am," Joel replied, "she ain't ever gonna forgive me but I gotta do somethin', Tommy. I can't lose her, and right now, it really feels like I'm gonna lose her." Joel's voice cracked and he turned away, looking out the window so Tommy couldn't see the emotion behind his eyes.

Tommy groaned and yanked a chair out to sit down.

"What'dya need me to do?"

It was a long day on your feet and your face hurt more than you cared to admit, so by the time you arrived home, you decided to make yourself a sandwich and go to bed early, skipping an appearance at the dining hall where you knew half the town would be gawking at you and your wounds, anyway.

Fortunately, Joel was up in his room with the door closed when you quietly snuck upstairs with your sandwich. You were still emotionally exhausted from your brief conversation that morning and you were grateful he wasn't looking to have another one.

Nick had sent you home with one of the good pills, as he called it, so you took it with your meal and within the hour, you were out cold. Maybe if you hadn't taken the pill, you would have been awake to hear Joel's bedroom door squeak open, the rustling of fabric and the tinkling of metal cutting through the quiet hallway as he gripped his sleeping bag in one hand and his backpack stuffed with supplies in the other.

Like he usually did, he paused outside your room, his eyes lingering on the doorknob, ears straining for any sign that you were awake, that maybe you had a change of heart and he could call the whole trip off, but he was only met with silence.

He swallowed and turned towards the stairs, quietly tiptoeing down and packed another bag with food from the pantry before setting all three items by the door. At the last minute, he decided to leave a note, not even certain you would notice or care he was gone, but he knew Tommy would be furious when he found out he lied to him earlier and he really didn't want his brother to waste manpower trying to hunt him down in the wilderness. So he grabbed a pen from a drawer and an old envelope. The tip of his pen hovered over the paper as he struggled with what to say, then finally decided to keep it brief before scribbling his note, leaving it by the coffee maker where he knew you would see it.

Lastly, he strode into the living room and grabbed one more thing, shoving it into his backpack before piling on his layers and heading out the front door, giving the house one last forlorn glance before slipping quietly into the night.

It was your day off, so naturally you allowed yourself to sleep in a little, hoping that the extra rest would help your bruises to heal. At the very least, you were pleased to discover the pain around your throat was significantly better than the day before.

You didn't hear Joel when you got up, but that was typical. He usually had early morning patrol shifts and was back by the afternoon, but when you came downstairs and saw the coffee wasn't made like it normally was, you froze. Your eyes drifted around, noticing his coat and boots were missing.

Maybe he was running behind and just didn't have time to make coffee.

As unusual as that might be, it was the only logical conclusion until you walked over to the coffee maker and saw an aged envelope sticking out of your favorite mug. You frowned and picked it up, eyes quickly scanning the words once, then three more times before the panic set in, your stomach churning worse and worse each time.

Tell Tommy I'll be back in a week.

He knows why.

No matter what, just know I love you with my whole heart, in this world or the next.

Joel

Boots unlaced and coat unzipped, you raced down the street towards Tommy's house, the envelope gripped tightly in your fist.

What the hell did that mean? Where did he go? What is he doing? And why did he sneak out without telling Tommy?

You banged on the door, the wood rattling violently under your clenched fist, only afterwards realizing you could have been waking their daughter but fortunately when the door opened, you saw Violet and Maria playing in the living room over Tommy's shoulder.

"What's goin' on, sugar? You okay?" he asked, voice filled with concern when he saw the look on your face.

"Joel's gone," you said hurriedly before pushing past him and entering the house, yanking off your hat and exchanging glances with Maria from across the room.

"Gone? What'dya mean, gone?"

"I mean I woke up today and he was gone, Tommy!" you exclaimed, handing him the note. "Where did he go?!"

You were aware your voice was panicky, that your eyes were wide with fear and your breath was fast and shallow, but you didn't care how it looked to them in that moment.

Tommy scanned the note and sighed, rubbing his forehead before urging you to join him in the living room, where he collapsed onto the sofa.

"That idiot," he murmured under his breath, handing you back the envelope.

"Where is he, Tommy?" you tried again, hoping to sound less frantic this time.

He glanced at Maria before meeting your gaze.

"He was here yesterday afternoon. Told me he needed a favor. Said he needed a week off from patrol and a horse."

"To do what?" you pressed, sinking down into an armchair next to the couch.

"He said-" he cut himself off and looked down at the note in your hand, ticking his jaw to the side as if he was contemplating how much to tell you.

"Spit it out," you demanded, and his eyes snapped back up to you.

"Said he had a plan to make things up to you. For, y'know," he waved his hand in the air, not wanting to say it. You shook your head.

"What was his plan?"

"He wouldn't tell me everything but I offered to help," Tommy admitted, glancing guiltily at Maria who shot him a surprised glare. "Said he needed to go to California, that he wanted to bring a piece of you back. I'm guessin' you're from out that way?" Tommy asked, and you nodded slowly. "He said he would wait 'til I talked to Maria and worked out the schedule but I guess he decided to fuck off-"

"Tommy!" Maria scolded sharply, covering Violet's ears, and Tommy cringed.

"Sorry," he said softly before turning back to you. "Guess he decided to lone-wolf it."

Your eyes drifted back to the note in your hand, swallowing the lump in your throat while your mind raced to catch up.

"What if he doesn't make it?" you asked, eyes still glued to the envelope, "what if he dies out there and it's all my fault?"

They heard your voice waver and exchanged sympathetic looks.

"He made a choice, he knew the risks," Maria said, "but he's a capable guy. If there were anybody who could make it out there alone, it's Joel."

"Listen, I'd send a couple guys out there lookin' for him but there's a storm brewin'," Tommy said, rubbing his chin and glancing out the window. "Been watchin' those clouds build up over the mountains all week. Told Joel as much and he agreed to wait but reckon he changed his mind and wanted to get in front of it."

"Or it was his plan all along to leave alone and he just made sure no one would come after him," Maria said, making the three of you fall quiet.

"God, what do I do?" you murmured, burying your face in your hands.

Tommy glanced at Maria and she subtly nodded towards the kitchen. He stood and cleared his throat before reaching his arms out towards his daughter.

"C'mere, let's get you somethin' to eat before naptime," he said, lifting Violet and taking her into the kitchen to give you both some privacy.

"What's going on?" Maria asked softly as she sat down in Tommy's place on the couch. You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap.

"I don't know," you said truthfully, "I'm so fucking angry at him, but..."

Maria pursed her lips knowingly. "But you still care."

You groaned and leaned back into the chair. "Yes."

"It's not like you're telling me or anyone else something we didn't already know," she said, "not after what happened with you and Angie in the middle of the street. I mean, look at you," she pointed to your bruised neck. "No one fights like that for someone they don't love."

"I don't love him," you said sternly, eyes flashing angrily in her direction. "You sound like Ellie."

"Okay, so if two people are telling you-"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," you abruptly stood up, brushing your palms on your jeans. "Sorry to barge in like this. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm actually looking forward to a week of quiet," you tried to say confidently despite how tight your throat felt as you headed towards the door.

Maria called your name as she trailed after you, urging you to stay and talk, but you just pressed your lips together and shook your head.

"Seriously, I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile across your face. "I have some stuff to do so I'll see you guys at dinner or something."

Before she or Tommy could say anything else, you slipped out the door and rushed down the street, back towards home.

It wasn't until later that afternoon, after you had scrubbed clean the kitchen and bathrooms, doing anything and everything you could to stay busy, that you noticed the missing picture from the wall in the living room.

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[yikes-aemond]

I love you. It's ruining my life. (Part II)

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)

warnings: 18+, smut, canon typical violence, cursing 

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood return to the woods where your story began. Things get heated. 

word count: 3.6k

author note: Thanks so much to everyone for your kind words about this little story. This is my first time posting fanfiction, and I am overwhelmed by the response. And in case anyone is curious, I pretty much listened exclusively to Taylor Swift’s “Guilty as Sin?” while writing this. Love you babes. Happy reading! 

part I can be found here. part III can be found here. part iv can be found here.

A madness plagued you, of that there could be no doubt.  

Days had passed since the boundary stone incident. But you could barely bring yourself to leave the confines of your chambers. You did not want to see anyone. Not your father. Not your fellow ladies or maids. And certainly not Aeron. 

You only wanted to see Benjicot. Lay eyes on him and hold him and confirm that you were not alone with these feelings. 

In your heart, you knew that he must feel something. No Blackwood would withdraw from a challenge with a Bracken as quickly as he did after your plea without feeling anything. But your mind played tricks on you, turning over every interaction, every look, every word between the two of you.No promises had been made. No tender feelings shared. 

What if you had imagined it all? That thought alone kept you awake at night, tossing and turning with no relief. 

And gods, did you crave relief from this sweet torture. 

You felt trapped beneath your own skin, aching and longing for something that you could not fully name. But even though you did not know the full language of lovers, did not know exactly what happened between a couple when they lied together, you knew enough. Knew that pleasure could be found between your thighs with a twirl of your fingers. Knew it was a sin, but could not bring yourself to care. 

You could not get the look of Benjicot’s enraged face out of your mind. Flushed cheeks, wide eyes, snarling mouth. Even the cuts, bruises, and blood on his hands called to some primal part of you. The way he defended you, fought for you. He was a force, and the thought of having all that frenzied energy focused on you was enough to send you over the edge. 

You touched yourself to images of Benjicot that flashed through your mind. His face hovering over you. His arms encircling your body. His hands touching you. Unlacing your dress and removing your small clothes. Warm, strong, calloused hands traveling across your breasts, hips, and thighs. Moving higher and higher until he reached the core of you. 

And when you reached that pentacle of release, it was his name you sighed allowed. 

This madness had to end. 

So, in the early morning hours before Stone Hedge woke, you made your way back to the woods where it all began.  

You did not know how long you walked but you suspected hours. The sun was steadily rising in the sky, warming the air and casting shadows through the trees. You only vaguely knew the right direction to Raventree Hall and prayed to both the old gods and the new that you were on the right path. 

Not that you really had a plan once you reached Raventree Hall. It was not as if you could march up to the front door, knock, and demand to see the heir. The fact that you were a Bracken almost guaranteed that at best, such a request would be refused, or at worst, end with your head on a spike. 

But even when your legs began to tire and sweat dripped down your brow, you pushed forward—determined that today would be the day you received answers. 

That is until you tripped over a tree root, stumbling to the ground. You landed awkwardly on your front, both hands throbbing from cuts and scrapes you gained while trying to break your fall. But at least you had not rolled your ankle this time. 

Just as you began to pick yourself up, you felt a presence behind you. You were not sure if your imagination was playing tricks on you, but the forest itself seemed to quiet. You could no longer hear the wind rustling the leaves, nor birds chirping or insects humming. 

All your attention focused on one thing. Him. Benjicot. Every part of your being knew he was the one behind you. 

You felt the ghost of his touch before he surrounded you. His front to your back, both kneeling on the ground. His hand brushed against your hip before he leaned in and whispered, “Didn’t I tell you that these lands were not for Brackens, my lady?” 

You tried to turn to face him, but Benjicot stopped the motion by bringing his arm across your stomach, caging you against him. “How typical,” he scolded. “A Bracken who can’t do what they are told.” 

Your senses were overloaded. You could practically hear your heart pounding against your chest. Everything about Benjicot pulled you further and further into his snare—his touch, his scent, his voice. You had never felt so helpless. And you liked it.

But as quickly as Benjicot had trapped you, he let you go. One moment, he was supporting your weight against him, and the next, you were unmoored and alone. Leaping to your feet, you turned to finally face the man who had singlehandedly ruined your sanity and good sense. 

Benjicot had put distance between the two of you. At least two strides away, he was no longer within your reach. A part of you rebelled at the distance. For six years you had longed to be in his presence and have his attention focused on you. And now that you were here, in this place where your fates first intertwined, you could not bear the space. 

But something held you back. The look on Benjicot’s face. He’s angry.

You had witnessed his legendary temper in action, had seen the bloody results. But Benjicot’s anger had never been directed toward you. Even when you first encountered him in these woods all those years ago, he had not been angry. Exasperated and intrigued, sure. But never angry. 

Yet there was no mistaking the look on his face now. His eyes were cold and distant, his lips turned down. He looked at you as if you were a stranger. And you did not care for that at all. 

Breaking the silence, Benjicot asked, “What are you doing here?”

His gruff voice sent a thrill down your spine. For a fleeting moment, you tried to keep your composure, tried to mold your face into a mask of indifference as he had done. But you had neither the patience nor skill to do so. Your emotions always stayed close to the surface, threatening to unleash and break free at any moment. 

“What am I doing here?” you repeated back to him. “I’m here to see you. I thought that was rather obvious.”

Benjicot’s eyes narrowed at your tone. A break in the unfeeling facade he had erected. “I told you that these woods were not safe. I told you to not come back here. I told you—”

“I know what you told me!” Your own anger rising to meet his. “I have thought about what you said to me in these woods every godsdamn day for the last six years,” you seethed. 

Benjicot rolled his eyes at your tantrum. “And yet, here you are.”

Unbelievable. You threw your hands into the air in frustration, eyes seeking the sky for patience. “Well maybe I would not have had to go traipsing through the woods if you had bothered to do something about our situation!” 

A beat passed before Benjicot responded. “Our situation?” he asked, amusement echoing in this tone. “And what situation might that be, my lady?  

You, once again trespassing on Blackwood land in violation of the assize? You, who apparently has no care for your own wellbeing, wandering into these woods alone and defenseless? As helpless as a newborn fawn, completely at the mercy of those who would strike first and ask questions later? That situation?” 

You wanted to tear the smug look off his face. Maybe you really were a Bracken through and through. Because at the moment, you understood with perfect clarity why your ancestors had feuded since time in memoriam. 

You did not know why he was acting this way. Why he was trying to push you away. Why he refused to acknowledge the meaning behind your words. Except— 

What if he did not share your feelings? What if you had really imagined it all?

Your anger fled as quickly as it had appeared; replaced instead by a wave of nausea at your own foolishness. Of course, he did not feel the same way. You were a Bracken. Maybe he thought you were a pretty face to look at, maybe he would have had you warm his bed, but he could never love you. 

You felt the color drain from your face. Trembling, you turned away from him. You could no longer bear to look at him. You needed to get away. Needed to leave this place while you still had the strength to stand. 

You fled. Running as fast your legs could carry you, you weaved through the trees with no thought for direction or destination other than away, away, away. 

The moment you turned away, Benjicot realized his mistake, letting his anger over your lack of self preservation win out over the joy he felt when he found you again in these woods. 

And perhaps his anger was a result of the shame he felt. Shame for waiting so long to go to you that you had felt the need to put yourself at risk to seek him out. 

Benjicot had faced countless opponents and impossible odds, and never once had he wavered. Never once had he questioned his skill or fortitude. But the thought of you being in danger, or gods, someone hurting you, was enough to send him into a panic. 

He chased after you. 

You might have gotten a head start, but Benjicot was faster. He knew these woods like the back of his hand, and there was no place you could go, no place you could hide, where he would not find you. 

Spotting you up ahead, Benjicot surged forward, grasping your arm and pulling you into him. You collided into his chest, nearly sending you both to the forest floor. But Benjicot caught you, both of his hands now resting on your arms to steady you. 

You were both breathing heavily. No space existed between you now. You did not understand him. Did not understand why he did not let you escape in peace. You were close to tears but refused to allow Benjicot Blackwood to steal anymore of your dignity. 

“Let me go, Blackwood,” you demanded, trying to pull away from his grasp. But Benjicot held firm, tightening his bruising grip on you. 

Shaking his head, Benjicot pulled you further into arms, until you stood chest to chest, with your arms caged in between. He was a good head taller than you, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. 

Your breaths mixed together as the silence dragged out between you. Only when you tried to pull away again did Benjicot finally say, “I have watched you from afar.”

You finally stilled. Eyes widening, you waited for him to continue. “And I know you have watched me, too.”

Color returned to your face, as you tore your eyes away from his searching gaze. “Do not hide from me now, Bracken.” When you failed to respond, Benjicot scoffed, “I never took you for a craven.”

You felt your blood begin to boil. How dare he call you craven. Shoving at his chest with all your strength, you shouted, “The only one craven here is you, Blackwood!” 

“Oh, please enlighten me, how am I craven?” 

You stopped shoving at his chest, letting all of your frustration and ire rise until all you could see was red. “You dare admit to watching me, yet you refuse to acknowledge my feelings!” 

Benjicot flinched at your accusation. Now it was he who refused to look you in the eye. 

But you pressed on, “Because if you have been watching me for as long as I have watched you, then there can be no doubt as to my feelings. No doubt as to where my heart lies. But you ignored me for years. And now you have the audacity to mock me when I seek you out?” 

Benjicot’s eyes were back on your face, his gaze soft and pleading. A complete departure from the anger and fury he had shown you earlier. This man looked like your Benjicot. The boy who had rescued you. The man who had defended you. The one you loved with all your heart. 

His voice was quiet but his words strong, “I am a simple man, my lady. A simple man who needs plain words. What are these feelings of which you speak?”

Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you sucked in a breath. You swore that he would have no more pieces of you. Swore that would you put an end to this madness. But your heart would always rule over your head. 

Finding your courage, you opened your eyes, and reached for his hand. Bringing his hand to your lips, you pressed a kiss to the cracked knuckles and whispered, “I have loved you ever since we met in these woods all those years ago.” 

Benjicot stilled. You were not sure if he was even breathing, but you pushed on, “You occupy all my thoughts and haunt my dreams. You consume me, and I—” You cut yourself off before you could continue. 

You tried to remain unaffected, but the longer Benjicot held you, the more your body betrayed you. You felt your blood racing through your veins, felt the heat rising to your cheeks, felt a slickness begin to gather between your legs. You tried to pull away again to give yourself a moment of respite from this torture. 

But Benjicot was having none of it. 

He watched the way you squirmed under his gaze. Watched the way your chest heaved from the force of your confession. Watched your cheeks grow flush and warm. And when he caught your eyes again and saw your gaze drift to his lips before licking your own, he knew he was a goner. 

“My lady,” Benjicot’s voice was like gravel, “had I known you were so afflicted, I never would have left you alone for so long.” 

Hauling you closer, Benjicot traced his fingers from your collarbone up your neck, watching as your pulse jumped. Cupping your cheek, he brought his face close to yours, mere inches separating the two of you, and confessed, “From the moment you cut yourself on my dagger, I have loved you.”

Now it was your turn to still. For so long you had waited to hear these words, waited to be in his arms. 

Benjicot kissed your forehead, mumbling against your skin, “No one else could ever compare to you, my lady.” He moved to kiss your jaw. “You are the bravest”—a kiss to your cheek—“strongest”—a kiss to your temple—“most beautiful woman I ever met.” 

Kissing the corner of your mouth, Benjicot pulled back momentarily to stare into your eyes. “From that day until the end of my days, there will only ever be you.”

You were at your breaking point. You could not hold yourself back any longer. Flinging your arms around his neck, you pulled Benjicot toward you and kissed him. 

And oh, what a kiss. 

Your advance might have thrown Benjicot initially off guard, but he recovered quickly, remedying the situation and taking control. One hand in your hair and the other at your waist, he moved your head to the position he wanted, slanting his lips over yours and feasting. 

His kisses left your breathless. Your head held no thoughts other than more, more, more. Benjicot’s teeth nipped at your lips, forcing your mouth to open and surrender. He wasted no time in stroking his tongue against yours, exploring and claiming. And when his hand moved from your waist to knead your breasts, you moaned into his mouth and pulled him closer. 

Your taste, your sounds, your very being—Benjicot wanted it all for himself. You owned him, body and soul. And he was greedy to own you in return. 

In the haze of his kisses, you did not realize that your feet no longer touched the ground. Benjicot had lifted you in the air. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, bringing the hardness of him against the softness of you. 

Your back was against a tree, but you did not feel the rough bark. You only felt Benjicot’s lips and hands, moving across your flesh, mapping and exploring. But when Benjicot made his way to the bottom of your dress, running his hand over your delicate ankle, he paused and pulled back. There was a question in his eyes—did you wish to continue?

You nodded eagerly. No doubt or hesitation with your choice. 

And Benjicot smiled. That wicked, feral smile he donned just before a fight. Another searing kiss to your lips before his hand began to move up your calf to your thigh. He was so close to where wanted him. Where you ached for him. 

But Benjicot paused just short of your cunt. And when you whined at his delay, he laughed and asked, “Tell me, my lady. Have you ever touched yourself before?”

Words were beyond you. You felt dizzied and dazed, but you managed a nod. 

Benjicot moved his hand another inch higher. Lips grazing your ear and hot breath on your neck. “And tell me, what did you think of when you touched yourself? What did you imagine when you brought your fingers to your warm, wet cunt?”

You wanted to die. This surely must be hell. You shook your heard, too embarrassed and flustered to answer. 

Benjicot started to move his hand back down your leg, but you clenched your thighs, trapping his hand between them. Raising your head, you glared at him, but all he did was smile. “I know what you want, my lady. And I am eager to please. All I ask is that you answer the question.”

Wicked, cruel, insufferable man. 

But you were desperate. An impossible ache had built inside you, and you knew that Benjicot was the only one who would relieve you.

So you put aside your pride. Clearing your throat, you whispered, “You. I thought of you, Benjicot Blackwood.”

And that was all he needed. Pushing aside your small clothes, he exposed your cunt to the air. You cried out at the feeling, arching against him as he finally slid his hand between your folds. 

The first brush of him against you dragged a groan from deep in your throat. Benjicot groaned in reply, delighted at the wetness he found waiting for him. His thumb circled your clit, pressing and dragging and teasing. His other hand worked your breast while his lips pressed into your neck. 

It was an assault on all fronts. Your body had never felt so hot. And when he plunged one finger into your core, you bucked your hips in response. 

“I thought of you, too.” How he managed to talk, you had no idea. But even through the haze of lust, you heard him. “Thought of you spread naked on my bed when I took myself in hand. Thought of your tight, wet heat on my cock. Thought of how soft you would feel, how perfect you would be for me.”

“Benji—” You whined as he added a second finger.  You had never felt so full in your life. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, lips against your ears. 

You pulled Benjicot’s face away from your neck and captured his lips with your own, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. 

Benjicot groaned, plunging his fingers in and out, hard and fast. Your existence narrowed to the feeling. You were so close, the tightness becoming nearly unbearable. You just needed one final—

The sound of your name on his lips was your undoing. Release barreled down upon you, so much so that you felt like you could break in half. You cried out Benjicot’s name, as his lips covered yours once again. The kiss was all teeth and tongue. You felt as though you were being devoured. 

You clenched around his fingers again, and Benjicot let out a curse. He stroked you through your release until you were limp in his arms, kissing you all the while. 

You could barely catch you breath. And when Benjicot finally pulled away and withdrew his hand, you met his stare and lost your breath all over again. Because the smile he gave you now was one you had never seen before. It was soft and tender and just for you. His lady. 

You wanted to stay in these woods forever. Your own sanctuary that could not be touched by outside forces. Just when you were about to express that desire, you felt Benjicot tense against you. 

And that’s when you heard. Voices. Loud and angry and coming closer by the second. 

You shot Benjicot a panicked look and watched as he transformed in front of your eyes. Gone was any trace of softness or warmth, replaced instead by a hard and vicious look that had you trembling.

Bloody Ben now stood before you. 

Lowering you to the ground, Benjicot tucked you between his body and the tree. He looked around, trying to decide the best course of action. You could practically see his mind at work, thinking through the various scenarios to get you to safety. 

You saw the moment he reached a decision. Leaning down, he pressed one final kiss to your lips and asked, “Do you trust me?”

You did not hesitate. “Of course, I trust—” But before you could finish, your world went dark. Benjicot Blackwood had once again knocked you unconscious. 

He only hoped that you would forgive him for what he was about to do. 

-- Let me know what you think! And don't worry lovelies--I'm already working on part 3.

taglist: @painted-flag @majoso12 @strollthroughstars29 @a-whiterose

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite - 13

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Chapter Warnings: afab/fem reader, Smut, protected p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, mild anal play, grinding, thiago riding, spanking, choking, biting, kissing, violence, blood, cursing, misogyny, sexism, Dom!Seungmin, Possessive!seungmin, Possessive!Reader, Soft!Han, reader gets called puppy (a lot), crying,name calling , fluff, angst, Lee know once again being a dick.

WC: 8.3k

There was a wetness that was traveling up the side of your shoulder that woke you up that morning, a little squeaky ‘mwah’ following each moist point of contact. You blearily opened your eyes, catching the sun shining through the thick nylon of the tent and forgetting where you were for a second. 

Before the mild panic could set in, you were hushed from a body next to you, “Shhh baby, you’re alright my sweet girl.” It was Jisung, he had a softness to his tone you hadn’t heard before. 

“Ji?” You asked, delirious from sleep and turning your head to look at him through half closed eyes. 

“Mmhmm” He hummed, continuing his smooches along your shoulder and trailing up to your neck.

You immediately relaxed, closing your eyes and letting out a sleepy sigh. “Wha are ya doin?” 

“Jus’ missed you is all.” He replied, his warm hands digging under the blankets you were buried under and finding the skin of your waist. “Annnnd maybe I was feeling a little needy for my baby.” 

“Mm. Where’s Channie?” You felt his fingers drumming on your skin, finding your hip and giving it little taps. 

“Hyung is clearing up the stuff down by the beach with the others. He wanted to let you sleep.” His kisses were turning into nips and sucks as he got closer to your jaw line. You let him move his hand ever further south, resting in the waistband of your sweats.

“Hmph” You grunted, “ this is letting me sleep huh?” 

“We all have to make sacrifices sometimes, baby.” He tilted your face to meet his, his eyes half lidded with need. “ I needed you.” Jisungs wet lips found yours with a whimper. You melted into his kiss, breathing a sleepy sigh of content. It’s honestly crazy how he hadn’t kissed you for real until right now. Kissing him was exhilarating. You had hoped he had wanted you but now you could feel how bad he craved you though his lips, a mashing of teeth and tongue, as if he was trying to devour you. You were sure you would never forget the tang of his natural taste, it being reminiscent of Sunny D in that sense.

You gave a low whine when the beta wandered his fingers further into your sweats and into your panties. He didn’t delve his fingers in, just gave you more taps on the flesh that was quickly dampening for him. 

“Fuck my baby, need to hear you make that noise again.” He muttered against your wet lips. The beta could smell your arousal filling the tent, leaking through the pores in the nylon fabric. He hoped to be covered in it. Wanted it to seep into his skin.

Jisungs fingers swiped through your accumulating slick, both of you groaning at the feeling.

“Ji, we can’t umm, we can’t do it right now… I don’t think we have any.. Protection.” You managed to get out bashfully, finding it incredibly hard to stay strong on the matter. But you were not about to have a repeat of Chan's fury.  

“Shh my baby, I know. Jus’ wanna make my girl feel good, is all.” His mouth reattached to yours and his nimble digits circled up to your clit after collecting some of your slick. “Mm so fucking wet, nnngh.” He started to whine as he bucked his clothed pelvis into your covered form, unable to stop the motion.

The beta rubbed harshly on your bundle of nerves, panting as he took in your little squeaks and whimpers of pleasure, finding it addictive. Craving more and more. His little grinds only increased when he parted from your clit and plunged a finger into you, feeling your tightness surround his digit. 

“Sungie” you moaned at the intrusion, eyes clenched shut. You had heard he played guitar so you figured he must be good with his hands but fuck. 

He wanted to cry at how sweet you sounded when you whined his name. Ji used his other hand that wasn’t buried in you to rip the blankets off your quickly overheating body then he pulled your bottoms down so he could get better access to you. 

The sight of your drooling pussy and glassy eyes riddled with sleep and lust, pushed him over the edge, and he came untouched in his sweats. “Fuuuuck my baby, prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, oh my fucking god, so perfect, the best omega in the whole world I swear to god.” He rambled as he came, shoving a second finger in and bringing his other to circle your sensitive nub. 

You felt your high approaching, all it took was for him to curl against your special spot inside of you for you to let go. This one felt a little different from the rest that you’ve had before. When you came there was a release, and a flood of your essence shot out of you, soaking both Jisungs hands and the blankets beneath you. You were crying in pleasure at the feeling. “Ji, Jisung oh my gooood, fuck ahhhh.” 

He moaned loudly when you squirted on his hand, “What the fuck oh my fuck thats so hot.” 

The beta worked you through your high, only stopping his thrusting when you weakly grabbed his wrist. You were panting so hard, your lungs were on fire. He didn’t give you much time to catch your breath, though. When he pulled his soaking fingers out of your hole, he was mesmerized by the shine coating his skin. You watched as he shakily brought the same hand up to his own mouth, and put the dripping digits on his tongue. 

Jisung moaned and screwed his eyes shut at the sensation of your slick on his taste buds. “Fuck I need to taste you properly.” 

Before you even registered what he meant, Ji leaned over and buried his face between your thighs, immediately running his tongue through your folds. 

“Ji too sensitive!” You tried to pull him back despite your moans, pulling at his hair but he only whined into you and made a slurping sound. It was positively filthy. It made your head spin and your brain fuzzy. 

He only stopped once he had his fill of the goodness between your legs. When Ji pulled back the whole bottom half of his face was covered in your slick and his pupils were blown up so big they encompassed his entire eye.

He took in your fucked out expression as he licked his lips, not willing to let even a drop go to waste. He always knew he was a munch but it had never been truer until this particular moment. Jisung already longed to suckle your nectar from you once more, even though he was there seconds beforehand. 

Instead of acting on his urges, he pulled your sweats back up over your hips and gave you another wet kiss. You could taste yourself in his mouth and it made you shiver. Your own hand slowly made its way to his crotch but he caught your hand before you could grab at it. 

You pulled away from his kiss in confusion.”Do you not want me to make you feel good too?”

 His cheeks were bright red and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “Don’t worry about that, baby. I already got mine.” It took you a second to realize what he meant, until your eyes dropped to the wet patch that was starting to appear through his sweats. 

“Oh.” you giggled, trying not to embarrass him. It was honestly flattering that he came in his pants just by touching you. 

“Next time I’ll hold out for you, promise.” He had a dopey grin as you kissed him again. He was just too precious. 

A voice from outside the tent startled you both, “If you two are done fucking in there, breakfast is heating up then we’re gonna hit the road, so it sure would be swell if we could pack up this tent.” Minho. 

You covered your face with your hands, as Jisung screeched, “We were not fucking in here, you twat!” 

“Wow, someone woke up on the right side of the tent this morning.” Hyunjin eyed both you and Jisung when you crawled out of the tent a few minutes later. Jisung still had that dopey grin on his face and you had that sex glow you get after you cum. Hyunjin would know, he’s made you do it. 

“Morning Jinnie.” You smiled at him and leaned up to kiss him. He returned your kiss briefly, before pulling away and pressing a kiss to your nose, causing you to giggle. Jisung skirted off, (you assumed to change his pants).You looked around and noticed most of the camp was already put up. Wow, that was a really quick camping trip. You can't fault them, though. It was pretty impromptu. You noticed every milling about, picking up, except Felix and Chan. “Where’s Lix and Channie?” 

Hyunjin grimaced, “Well, uhh, the hormones you release when your uh, releasing, is a little too much for Felix when he knows he’s not allowed to touch you or anything, so he had to separate himself for a while. He stormed back to the beach and Hyung followed after him.” 

Your eyes found the trail to the beach and with a mind of their own your feet were marching towards it with purpose. You were worried Chan was being mean to Felix and your omega needed to comfort the beta. Hyunjin was shocked as you just took off out of his arms, and he didn’t know whether to stop you or let you go. Thankfully (or maybe not) he didn’t have to stop you. 

Before you could register the presence behind you, a hand snatched your arm, keeping you from proceeding. “You’re not going down there, omega.” That was the harshest you’d ever heard Minhos voice, it made you gasp at how assertive he sounded.  

You snapped your neck in his direction, fire lit in your soul at being told no, again. “And why not, Minho?” 

His cold eyes stared into your fiery ones, “It’s not your place to interfere with the Alphas business. You’re staying right here with us.” 

You both could feel the other five pack members watching the interaction, but neither of you gave a fuck right now. 

“You’re not an alpha, you can’t make me do anything, Minho.” You challenged with a shaky voice. 

His eye twitched and he tilted his head in a nearly menacing way, “ You wanna bet?” 

Your nerves were slipping, unable to help the tremble of your bottom lip. “ Chan said I was the woman of the household. I think that's justification to go where I please.” 

His grip on your arm tightened as he growled, “Yeah. You’re a woman. Not a man. Know your place.” 

You gasped at the gall of his statement and tears sprung to your lash line. A sourness overtook your normally pleasant scent, cascading out of you in waves. “What the fuck is yo-”

“Ok! That’s enough of that!” Changbin was the one to break the tension, removing you from Minho who let you go instantly. The alpha took you in his arms and away from the beta. Minho scoffed as you were rescued, rolling his eyes and going back to his tasks. 

“What is wrong with him?!” You were seething, trying to turn your head to glare but Changbin wasn’t having it. 

“Nuh uh, baby. You just keep looking ahead, no need to get even more worked up.” He was trying to be as calming as possible, attempting to release soothing pheromones to alleviate the tension. He set you down on the open hatch of the truck bed. 

Changbin may have been an alpha but his scent wasn’t as assertive as Chans so it was taking you longer to calm down, “Seriously Binnie, what the fuck is his problem?!” 

He sighed, running this hand through your hair. “Baby, you can’t just challenge Min like that.” 

You huffed in protest. You wanted to roll your eyes but thought better of it. “He started it” 

Binnie chuckled, “It doesn’t matter who started it, baby. You gotta understand his position in the pack hierarchy.  There’s a right and wrong way to handle things. Minho is the second in command in our pack, he is directly under Channie Hyung and that means he deserves the respect of someone in a position of power.” 

Your lip was trembling again as more tears sprung to your eyes, and you let your head fall to face your lap. “When he said to ‘know my place’,  he reminded me of my father. He would say that to me and my mother all the time.” 

“Aww baby, come er.” Changbin cooed and pulled you into his chest as you cried. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like your father did. It’s all politics, omega. He’s not quite used to being challenged like that. Especially not by our resident sweetheart.” 

“Still hurts my feelings.” You grumbled, wiping your wet cheeks. 

“Mm I know, baby. Let alpha make you feel better.” He began to pepper kisses all over your face, making a show with the loud smooch sounds. You couldn’t help but to giggle as your tears stopped. 

“Ok ok! I feel better!” You laughed and tried to push him off. You hugged him when he finally stopped his kiss attack, nuzzling into his chest. “Thanks Binnie. You’re good at making me feel better.” 

“I always got you, omega.” He pressed a final kiss to your lips then noticed a mass coming up from the beach trail. “Looks like things are ok over there too.” He flicked his head to make you turn your attention. 

Coming up the trail was Chan, with Felix on his back. The alpha was giving a piggyback ride to the younger beta. Felix still had slightly puffy eyes as if he had been crying previously, but now he had a gentle grin as they entered camp. Felix said something in Chan's ear, making the alpha laugh as he set him down. 

Able to pick up the rigidity in the camp, Chan’s eyes flitted around until they locked on yours. He had a questioning look on his face as he took in your puffy eyes then he sent a look to Changbin. The younger alpha lightly shook his head, his eyes flickering over to a tense Minho then back to Chans. Chan sucked his teeth and nodded back. 

Chan set Felix down by the tents where Hyunjin and Jeongin were finishing packing them up and he made his way to you. Changbin gave you a swift kiss and backed away as Chan appeared, giving him a fist bump before going on his way. 

“He’s fine, if you were wondering.” Chan pulled you into him, his chin resting on your head. “Just got himself a little worked up.” 

“I was really worried for him..” you breathed out timidly. “I was scared you were, umm…” 

“Oh I see, you were scared I was punishing Felix again, huh?” He murmured softly. You nodded in response. “My nurturing little omega just wanted to make it better?” 

“Yeah, alpha” Your voice croaked, thick with more on coming tears. “But Min stopped me…He was so mean.”

“Mmm, I know baby. Ya know, I love how much you care about Lix and the other boys.” You nodded again. “Means you're a good omega. A perfect one for this pack.” 

That made you purr in response, feeling vindicated.

 “But,” Shit, nevermind. 

“You gotta let your alpha handle things. Felix and I were only having a conversation, baby. I wasn’t punishing or scolding him. You would have felt pretty foolish storming over there in the middle of our heartfelt conversation, huh?” 

Hmph “....maybe” 

Chan laughed, rubbing your back and planting a kiss on your head, “And cut Min some slack, he can be a dick but he doesn’t mean it most of the time.” 

“Ugghhhhh do I have tooooo?” you pouted dramatically.

“Yes, baby. Where’s my nice, forgiving omega, hm?” He was using his scent to persuade you. 

“M’ right here.” You melted into him, showing your submission. 

“There’s my girl.” Luckily with you pressed against him, you missed the sly smirk he sent Minho- who was balking at how easily he got you to calm down from across the campsite. “I love you, baby.”

“Love you too Channie.”

“Looks like we’re about ready to go. And I don’t know about you but I am ready for a shower.” He laughed.

You sniffled and pulled away from him, “Yeah you stink.” 

He gasped dramatically, “maybe you’re not nice after all.” He hoisted you into his arms as you shrieked a laugh. He had you over his shoulder so you smacked his ass and in return he gave you one back then laid a bite into the side of your thigh, causing you to shriek again. “Let’s roll!” He called out to everyone else, who had just finished getting ready to depart. He sure did love efficiency. 

The ride home felt like it went by way quicker than the journey there. Chan let you pick the music again and you both belted the words to every song together. He didn’t make fun of you when you did little dances to each one (ok maybe he poked fun a little bit). The alpha adored how goofy you could be, and how every day he gets to see more and more of who you are inside; not just what the omega traits gave you. 

The truck pulled up to the house after the others had already arrived, and the pack was already moving everything back where it belonged. You had been bummed the trip had been so short, but now being back home you felt relieved, as if a weight had been lifted from you at no longer being stuck in the woods in a tense atmosphere. 

After helping move some things and taking everyones dirty laundry into the washroom to be dealt with later, you all had gone for showers and naps. Some of them were still hungover from drinking too much (Jeongin and Felix mostly). 

You went into Chans bathroom to find him already turning on the water, “Wanna shower with me, my love?” 

You were hesitant to reply, remembering the last time you were in that shower together, and how you were punished. 

He could tell you were apprehensive, “It’s just a regular shower, baby. Nothing scary this time, promise.” Chan held out his pinky to you, his eyes crinkling with his endearing grin. When he’s so cute like this, how could you deny him? 

“Ok, Channie,” you looped pinkies with him, then you took off your clothes and joined him in the shower. He didn’t touch you sexually this time, and you were grateful for it. He didn’t think you would be ready for it in this particular shower, anyways. That doesn’t mean you didn’t get a smattering of smooches from him, though. Sometimes he can’t keep his lips to himself, he guessed he was like his pack brothers in that way when it comes to you. 

Once you were cleansed and clothed - in Chans shirt and a pair of shorts, naturally - you padded down into the kitchen for a bottle of water. Jisung was already there, on his phone. 

“Hi love bug.” he greeted you with a kiss. “ I'm ordering pizza, Bin has been complaining that he’s gonna ‘ die of starvation’ if he doesn’t get a supreme asap. What kind do you like?” 

“Hmm, I wouldn’t say no to a hawaiian.” You sipped your drink you got from the fridge. 

“Don’t let Hyung hear you say that.” You felt a hard pinch on your right ass cheek,

“Ow!” 

“He hates pineapple on his pizza” Seungmin snickered, dodging your tiny fist. “My vote is only get hawaiian, really stir the pot in here.” 

“Yeah that's what we need.” Jisung replied sarcastically. “Let’s not piss off the alphas please.” 

“You’re no fun, Hannie” 

“I am fun!” 

At this point you made a swift exit out of the kitchen, staying out of the mini spat. “I swear, they fight like an old married couple.” you murmured. 

“I heard that!” 

“No you didn’t!” You called behind you. 

You ventured into Chan's room to gather his and your laundry, then back down into the laundry room. You hadn’t realized how much it had built up in the last few days, so getting it done was a top priority for you. 

It was about 40 minutes later and you were putting the second load in the washer when you heard a pounding at the door. It wasn’t a gentle knock but more like a rapid banging. You listened for a moment and didn’t hear anyone go to the door so you did. ‘Jeez the delivery man must be in a mood today.’ you thought cynically as you made your way to the entry. 

You now heard harsh whispers coming from the door as you got closer. 

“I told you it was done, Brynn. You can’t come around anymore.” Seungmin, but who was he talking too? 

“You dump me over text and now you won’t even explain why! What kind of bullshit is that? It’s been a week of radio silence from you.” It was a woman's voice, shrill and whiny. 

You could see Seungmins back as he addressed the girl at the door, and you could make out her blonde hair over his shoulder. 

“We weren’t dating. You made it perfectly clear when we started hooking up you didn’t want a relationship. I don’t have to explain shit to you.” He was trying to keep his voice even, as if he really didn’t care. He probably didn’t. “What’s done is done, Brynn. Don’t act like a spoiled child just because you don’t get my dick wet anymore.” 

The woman looked over his shoulder as you came into view, her catty eyes narrowed at you then at him. “Who the fuck is that?” 

Minnie turned his head to catch a glimpse of you, before sighing and pointing away, “Baby go back to the living room with the boys.” 

 “Oh I get it now.”  The woman, Brynn, let her nostrils flare as she zeroed in on you.  “you left me for some omega whore.” 

‘What the fuck did I do?’ 

“You don’t know shit.” He bit back at her, now getting fired up. You stepped closer to him despite his order to leave, now only about a foot away. This girl was starting to piss you off, and you already had enough rage leftover from your altercation this morning. 

“No, I get it now.” She smirked evilly, “Look at the bruises on her legs, you guys are all sharing her huh?” 

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know anything about our pack.”  He growled at her, glaring daggers. 

“What’s the matter? Mad I got it right? Maybe if you weren’t such a beta loser you could get your own girl, instead of sharing some used up who-” The beta woman didn’t get to finish her sentence before you ducked past Seungmin and slammed your fist right into her left cheek. “AHH what the hell!” she clutched her face as she screamed.  

“Y/N!” Seungmin grabbed your waist pulling you back, he was instantly shocked by your behavior. And maybe a little turned on.  “Don’t, she’s not worth it baby.”

“I’ll show you whos the fucking loser! Don’t you ever speak to him like that again!” You tried to swing your fists again but Minnie had already pulled you too far away. 

“Seungmin control your fucking dog!” She snarled, still clutching her red cheek. 

“Oh my god why is something always happening in this entry way?!” Jisung shrieked as he ran to see what was going on. Chan and Changbin were right behind him. Brynns scream must have alerted them all to trouble.  

“Take her now!” Seungmin tried to hand you off to Chan but you gripped onto the door frame, refusing to let go. 

“No! I’m not done with her!” You were raging, the angriest you had ever been. 

“Omega let go now.” Chan used an alpha command on you, making you release instantly. 

“That’s right, go back to your master.” Brynn sneered. 

“Next time I see you, it’s on sight bitch! Count your days!” You screeched, pointing at her as you were hauled away. 

As you were pulled through the house you could no longer see nor hear the commotion at the door. Chan knew Seungmin would be telling her off and making her leave. “What the fuck was that?” He set you on the couch then crouched to your eye level.  “Did you hit her?” 

You crossed your arms, a snarl still embedded on your face. “If you heard what she was saying you’d wanna hit her too.” 

He sighed, running a hand down his face, “Omega, you-”

“No!” He gave you a hard stare for interrupting him. “Sorry, alpha.” you winced. “ But I couldn’t stand there and let her say that about him! Something came over me and I just had to protect him from her. I have never felt such raw adrenaline before, it’s kinda like I blacked out and before I knew it, my fist was on her face!” 

“I get it baby, you needed to save your minnie from the mean girl.” You nodded. “And I bet you were still feeling the intensity from this morning huh?” 

“Yes, alpha. I’m sorry.” You sighed, trying to let the emotions go but failing miserably. 

“All I’m gonna say is, don’t make it a habit of hitting people. Only warning.” He kissed your head, “But she really did deserve it, that chick sucks.” 

“You should have seen the look on the pizza guys face when he pulled up to Brynns ugly crying face! He looked horrified!” Han held the pizzas in his arms as he passed you on the way to the kitchen. “Also, super hot of you to hit her, baby.” 

Chan groaned and you giggled, “Ji I’m in here actively trying to teach her violence is not ok, we don’t need your encouragement.” 

“Oh lighten up, Hyung. That bitch deserves it.” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” You agreed enthusiastically. 

The alpha threw his hands up exasperated, before standing and stomping to the kitchen. He wouldn’t admit it but it was super hot seeing you all fired up like that. Seungmin and Changbin came in next. Changbin ruffled your hair, “Hey there, good job slugger.” 

“Get off!” you pushed his hand away, laughing. 

Seungmin was next to crouch in front of you, searching your face for any harm. When he found none there his eyes moved down and zeroed in on your hand, that had begun to bruise already from how hard you slammed it into the other woman's face. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” 

“I wasn’t.” You admitted to him, shyness overtaking you under his scrutiny. 

He scoffed, somewhat amused. “Clearly.” He grabbed your bruised hand and ran his thumb gently over the knuckles. When you hissed in discomfort, he brought the skin up to his mouth and gave it a tender kiss. “Next time, let me handle it.” 

“As if,” you muttered with your own scoff. “I won’t let her or anyone else talk to you like that. You’re not her toy to treat like crap. You don’t belong to her.” You spat the last word like it left a bad taste in your mouth, and the beta noticed. 

“Oh omega, is someone feeling a little… possessive over her Minnie, hm? You want me to belong to you instead?” He had his devilish grin on. 

“No!” you protested, “...Maybe. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” 

He laid you on the couch with a shove, before climbing over you. You gasped and put your hand on his chest, eyes wide. “Don’t you worry about it, baby. As far as I’m concerned I’ve been yours since the spaghetti o’s.” 

“Ugh don’t bring that up again.” you turned your head to avoid his eye contact and he took the opportunity to nip your neck. “Minnie get off!” 

“Yeah get off her! The little savage needs some fuel to keep fighting for her men!” Seungmin was shoved off playfully by Changbin. 

You could hear Chan yell from the kitchen, “No more fighting!” 

“Yes more fighting!” 

“Jisung, enough!” 

“Ok ok, sorry.” 

“Who’s fighting?” Jeongin ran in looking for the commotion. 

“No one is fighting, Innie.” You replied, sitting up. 

“Yeah, not anymore. You missed Baby smack the shit outta Brynn.” Changbin said eating a slice. 

“Baby hit Brynn? No way she sucks!” Hyunjin entered now, trailed by a sleepy Felix. 

The younger beta gave you a look of pure surprise, “For real, you actually hit her?” 

“Uhh yeah, I did.” You felt sheepish now that they all knew. 

“Wow. Our precious baby is showing us she’s not all bark and no bite huh?”  he blinked away his shock, him too entering the kitchen. 

Suddenly, a roar was heard from the head Alpha, 

“Why does every pizza have pineapple?! Jisung?!” 

“Oops!”

Lunch was filled with them all poking fun and teasing you for your altercation. Most praised you (making your brain short circuit) and told you how insanely hot they found it. One beta in particular couldn’t stop letting his imagination wander. He decided right then that he would give you a reward instead of punishing your behavior. 

When you had all eaten you meandered back to your self appointed chore, telling them all to bring their laundry bins down and you would begin taking care of it. While you were folding some of the done pile, a figure came up behind you. 

You shivered when he brushed your hair away from the side of your neck, and he placed the other hand on your hip under your shirt. “When you’re done here, come up to my room, omega.”

Seungmin’s voice was gravely as he lowered it to a whisper. He laid a light kiss to the skin of your neck, and you whimpered, nodding your head in agreement. “Mm, good girl.” 

His hand traveled down to your butt, giving the cheek a single squeeze before he pulled away from you completely, and exited the room as if he was never even there.

You felt your breath return to you once he was gone, only now realizing you were holding it in the first place. With shaky hands you continued, wondering how the hell you were supposed to get anything done after that. 

In actuality you managed to get another load in the dryer and finished folding the one you were working on within about an hour. You set the basket of folded clothes in Chans room, not expecting to see him chilling on his bed, playing on his phone. He smiled when you walked in, setting his phone down. “Hey baby, are you gonna come snuggle with me?” he held his hand out for you. 

“Umm,” you grabbed his hand but didn’t sit. “Minnie kinda asked me to go to his room already..” 

“Oh, I see.” He smirked cheekily, “Well before you go take one of these,” he reached over and handed you a little packet of pills. “Bin picked up your birth control prescription yesterday. Make sure you take it every day .” you nodded before popping one out and sticking it in your mouth. He handed you some water to wash it down. “Now don’t let me keep you then, my love.” he let go of you and sent you off. 

You left the room, and went to the door you knew led to Seungmins room. You steeled your nerves before timidly knocking on his door. You heard a faint “Come in, baby.” so you opened the door and entered his space. You hadn’t been in his room yet, you weren’t expecting it to be so colorful. He had a few hanging plants draping down from his ceiling. The back wall was dark green, and the rest were off white, making the room look larger. Shelves lined the walls that were filled with books. 

You closed the door behind you, and were hit with the encompassing scent of him. The smell was delicate like a thunderstorm. “Hi Minnie.” You twiddled with your thumbs, unable to meet his gaze. 

He chuckled, “ Hey Omega. Won’t you come here?” He was sitting at the mahogany desk in the corner where he beckoned you to him. You shuffled your feet until you came to stand right in front of him. “There she is, my girl.” You preened at his sentiment, the omega inside begging to hear him say it again. “You like that? You like it when I call you mine?” He yanked you into his lap, letting you feel how hard he already was under you. 

He leaned you back into him as he cradled your jaw, tilting your head and giving you little licks into the skin there. “Y-yes Minnie.” 

“Oh I know you do, baby. Here in this room, you belong to me. You’re my girl alone when you're in these four walls, do you understand?” He knew he was laying it on thick but he needed to train you early. He nipped at your skin roughly. 

“Mhm I understand Minnie.” you were whimpering, melting into his hold. He could see your nipples harden under your shirt, pleased you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. 

“Go lay on my bed for me, and take your clothes off.” 

You scrambled off of him when you register what he says, literally flinging your shirt off and tripping lightly when you pull your shorts down. He held back a snort, opting to bite his lip instead. You turn around to face him before you pull off your panties, giving him a full view of your breasts. You tried to keep eye contact with him as you unhurriedly pulled your panties down and let them drop to the floor.

If anything was true about Seungmin; it’s that he was very good at keeping his composure. On the outside he appeared calm and collected as he watched the sexiest creature he had ever seen settle herself on his bed. But on the inside; he was losing his mind. All he wanted was to ravish you, tear you apart and put you back together again. He had let the tension with you rise for days in anticipation for this moment, and he felt like a dog with a bone. More like a puppy. 

The quilt on his bed was a mauve shade and had diamond shapes stitched into it. It was soft on your skin as you laid upon it, helping quell the fluttering in your stomach. You clutched it as Seungmins' predatory stare raked over your form. From your position on his bed he could see the glistening between your legs and his mouth began to water. 

You noticed where his gaze was pointed and it made you feel kind of dirty, the way he had his fixed stare on your most intimate parts had you subconsciously rubbing your thighs together as you released a scent thick with arousal. 

“Look at you, dripping and writhing when I haven’t even touched you yet.” He stood from his place on the chair across the room, palming his bulge through his sweats. “ What am I gonna do with you, pretty girl?” He tore his shirt off, taking a step towards you. “Should I stretch you out on my fingers?” Another step. “Should I eat your pussy till you cry?” Now he was at the foot of the bed. “Or maybe I should make you cum on my cock till you pass out?”  

That had you absolutely panting, eyes blown at the suggestion and your thighs clenching. The arousal was coming out in thick drips and drenching the intricate quilt below you. It would surely take months to get the scent out. Not that he would want to. 

“Option 3? If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll give you what you want.” He licked his lips, itching to grab you but wanting to hear you beg for it. He wasn’t going to touch you otherwise. 

“Please, Minnie.” You whined softly, feeling modest, your face heating up. 

“Is that all you got?” He scoffed and took half a step back. “You must not really want it that bad.” 

“I do, Minnie I want it!” 

“You want it? You want my cock?” His eyes narrowed at you as he smirked. 

You nodded rapidly, “Uh huh.” 

“Then beg me for it, omega.” 

You attempted to take a staggering breath as your lip trembled. 

“Minnie, my Minnie, please, please have mercy on me, and fuck me. Please, Seungmin.” 

A rumble came from him as he pounced on you. He slipped his pants off hastily as he crashed his mouth to yours. His tongue invaded your mouth and his hand groped your chest, the combination being staggering for you. You moaned when he gave your nipple a firm pinch. His pelvis pushed back into you when yours bucked up looking for friction. 

“You really are a needy little thing, rutting into me like a horny little puppy.” He was condescending with his words, mouthing at your lips with cruel nips. “What happened to that feisty omega that took on the world today, huh? Where’d the snappy guard dog go?” He licked your bottom lip messily. “Show me how bad you want it, puppy.” 

You animatedly thrusted up into him, grinding on his clothed member. He could feel the slick coming off of you and soaking into his boxers. 

“Awe you’re so wet omega. Can feel you practically water logging my dick through my boxers.” He grunted, shuddering when you bucked again. 

You were quickly falling deeper into subspace, surrendering yourself to him completely. His dominant aura and attitude was sending you spiraling into the abyss. “Mhmm, wet for my Minnie. Wan’ you to fuck me.” 

Seungmin lowered his head to suck on the opposite nipple than the one he was pinching, nibbling on the hardened bud. 

“I’ll fuck you, puppy. Give you what you need.” He sucked harder, and your hand shot to his hair. “But first you gotta  give me what I need. Make yourself cum, wanna see the look on your face when you rut on me so hard you cum.” 

“B-but I..” You whined, “I don’t know if I can.” 

He quickly slipped a hand down between where your bodies met and gave a slap to your core. You wailed at the sharp pain. “I’ve told you before, I don’t care if you can, the fact is you will.” He smacked again. “Get to it.” 

Seungmin slotted his thigh between your legs to give you more friction. You thrusted up into him again and hooked your thigh over his hips, grinding harshly into him. The fabric of his underwear over his member caught on your clit. Your head fell back into his pillows and you moaned. You repeated that motion over and over again, being so turned on you were actually getting off in it  

“Seung, s-so good.” 

He returned your rutting with one of his own, making you cry out as the knot in your stomach was building. 

“Minnie, I think m’ gonna, gonna…”

“Go ahead, my obedient little pup, let go for me. Make a mess.” 

With his permission you felt your orgasm take over, making you shake with pleasure. “Unngghh” Your ‘o’ face was even better than he imagined, eyes shut tight and drool coating your lips as you moaned. It was the both most gratifying and beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

He barely let you finish your shaking before he had you suddenly flipped over so you were on your stomach. You let out a gasp in surprise. Seungmin leaned back on his heels and yanked you up by your hips, until you were on your hands and knees presenting for him. He admired the way your pussy spasmed from your leftover orgasm and he swiped a finger through your juices, swirling it around before he shoved the finger inside. You squirmed as you whimpered again. He hummed in appreciation, “ I love the noises you make for me, omega. Let’s see how loud you can get.” 

You heard a crinkling sound behind you, so you turned your head around to the sight of him rolling a condom down his length. He had abandoned his underwear at some point and you hadn’t even noticed. When it was rolled on completely he took his cock and rubbed it through your folds, not yet pushing in. His lithe hand ran over your shoulders, barely touching as it trailed down your spine. 

Seungmin laid a harsh smack to your ass cheek when he got to the bottom of your back “ow, minnie!” He didn’t respond, choosing to snicker in amusement when your flesh ripped from his treatment. He entered the tip into your dripping hole, giving a moan at the squelch that emitted. 

He let go of his cock go and opted for giving your ass cheeks a punishing grip on each side, spreading you open for him to get an even better view of your pussy and the other little pink hole that you hide from him. You let your head fall in embarrassment when he seemed to take his time gazing directly at your most intimate hole. Seungmin let his saliva accumulate in his mouth before he leaned close and stuck out his tongue, the spit he collected falling off the tip onto your puckered flesh. 

You shivered when you felt it hit you, eyes wide with slight terror at the prospect of him penetrating your ass. He could sense your fear and chuckled with his signature evilness. “Don’t worry, Puppy. Minnie’s not gonna fuck your ass… today.” your sigh of relief was cut off when his thumb swirled around in his own spit, not pushing in but definitely testing the waters. “Doesn’t mean I can’t play with it a little bit, though.” 

All at once he pushed his length into you completely and also his thumb entered just slightly. Even the tip of this thumb was a stretch for you. The sensations made your back arch and a loud howl break from your parted lips. You had only moments to adjust to him, as he gave your ass another sharp smack and began his thrusting into you from behind. 

Desperate cries were falling from you and Seungmin snuck his hand back up your spine until he found purchase at the base of your neck. He squeezed the skin there and used the grip he had to tilt your head up to face the ceiling, wanting your moans to be projected out. “Let em’ hear it, baby. Let the pack hear who’s making you bark like this.” 

His jarring words made another bout of slick build up and drip out around his cock. The wet, sloppy sounds were resonating off the four walls, making it seem louder with the constant echoes. 

“Mm, I’ll never get enough of this pussy drenching me. Wettest I’ve ever seen, fuck.” He squeezed your neck a little harder, making you choke on your moans. “God damn you look so good with my hand around your neck. Maybe I should get you a collar, make you wear it around like I’m always there giving my girl a good squeeze. My puppy can wear my initials on her pretty neck.” 

“Minnie, please oh my god.” You rasped out between cries, feeling your second orgasm starting to build within you. You clenched particularly hard on him when he pushed the thumb just a touch further into you, stretching your previously untouched cavity. 

“Fuck, omega. Clenching down on me so fucking tight. Gonna make me cum.” 

You whimpered, “Wan you too, wan you to cum please Minnie.” You were begging, tears steadily streaming down your face now, just inches away from cumming yourself. “Wanna cum too, please, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely, make a mess for me, pup. Cum.”

Your eyes rolled into your head as you wailed, toes curling and spurts of slick shooting out from around him. Feeling how hard you clamped down on his dick made Seungmin not be able to hold back any longer. He spewed curses and deep growls as he came, filling the condom with his thick essence. His mouth was salivating and he gave into his urges, leaning up to your shoulder and chomping his teeth down into the flesh just above Felix's bite. Your blood filled his mouth as he bit, and you cried louder than you had the whole time he’d been fucking you. The beta let go of your skin and licked his lips, pupils blown wide.

You were quaking when he removed his thumb from you, giving you a few minor thrusts as he let go of your neck. Seungmin gave you a few tender kisses on your back, trying to bring you back down to earth. 

When the beta pulled out of you, you felt your legs give out and your face planted into his bed with a groan. He gave a chuckle at how cute you were directly after being fucked. You were floating, drifting in hyperspace you didn’t notice when he laid down next to you after disposing of the condom. This is why he toyed with you for days, knowing the buildup would make it all the more intense for you. 

He lifted you to be directly on top of him and he wiped the drool from your lips. “Not done yet, omega. Need you to bite me now.” He pet your hair and hauled you closer, basically shoving your face into his shoulder. “Give it to me, let everyone know I’m taken by you, baby.” 

You did as you were told, almost on instinct, bearing your teeth and digging them into his flesh. He groaned huskily, eyes snapping shut when he felt the pressure. 

“Thata girl.” He held you close to him as you lapped at the wound you made on him, feeling more intimate than anything else you had done with him previously. Now you were positive he loved you, he doesn’t seem like the type that would go around receiving bites for just anyone. 

When you had diligently licked it clean you pulled away from the skin, tilting your head up the best you could to look at him. His pupils were still blown out, making his eyes look almost completely black. His hair had fallen into his face and the sweat had made it stick to his skin. He was panting as if he had just ran a marathon, a deep flush in his cheeks. In all honesty he looked positively immoral.  

You didn’t look any better, you could bet you looked how you felt; exhausted. Exhausted from all the adrenaline of the day and from all the orgasms that had been pulled from you today. 

“You did so well fo’ me, baby.” He managed to say when he caught his breath.He pet the side of your head and wiped the blood off your mouth.

“I did?” You mumbled, coming out of your trance-like state. 

“Mmm, the best. Listened so good to your Minnie. Made me really proud of you.” He gave you a tender kiss. You sunk into him, purring in delight at his praise. You pulled away first, feeling the fatigue you rested your head down on his chest. “You can’t fall asleep yet, we gotta get you cleaned up first.” 

You pouted but still let him scoot out from under you and pick you up in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom to begin wiping you down and cleaning your newest bite mark. Afterwards he carried you back to his bed, and dressed you in one of his t-shirts. It’s about time you paraded around in his clothes too. 

It was only mid day, but he let you rest under his covers and laid down with you as he turned on a show on his laptop. You snuggled into him and immediately felt at peace. 

You were able to murmer one last thing before you fell asleep, “Love you minnie.” then you passed out, letting sleep take over. 

When you woke up, the sky outside the window had darkened to a deep orange. For a moment you laid there, eyes half open as you came to your senses. You could tell that you were still in Seungmin's room, and that he was laid next to you. You heard the faint voices coming from the laptop on his lap and his almost silent snorts when something was particularly funny on his show.

“Wha’ time is it?” you mumbled, turning your body around to face him. 

“Hmm? Not that late,” He looked to you then to his phone, “ it’s almost 6:30. You’ve been asleep for about four hours.” 

“Four hours?” You started to panic, worried about the chores you were doing. You sluggishly went to get up but he put an arm over you, preventing  you from moving. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“V’ gotta finish the clothes. Don’t wan’ anyone to be mad at me.” your voice was still heavy with sleep. 

He had the most unbelieveing look on his face, “I just fucked you within an inch of your life, and you’re worried about the laundry?” 

“Don’t say it like that!” you tried to pout. 

He broke out into a laugh at how cute you were, “Pup, no one is going to be mad at you right now. You finished enough today, you’re allowed to take it easy. There are no more obligations tonight, you’re in the clear to stay here with me tonight. If you want to.” 

“I do, but Channies not upset?” 

“No, omega. I already checked in with him. We’re all good.” He kissed your cheek, smiling when you giggled. “You should eat, does leftover pizza sound ok?” 

You thought for a moment, then nodded thankfully. “Mmhmm, sounds great.” He kissed you again then he scooted off his bed, and went down to grab food for you both. When he brought it back up you both sat up and ate together. He occasionally poked fun at you and you did it back to him. A playful, easy night was exactly what you needed. He may not have said the words ‘i love you’ but he showed it in his own ways. You felt it in how he played with you, and took care of you when you needed it. 

A/N: my apologies to anyone named Brynn, and also apologies for the pack tension or lee know stans.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my wonderful bumble bee @ayejaii <3

©doitforbangchan

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[hxzbinwrites]

Vox x Emotionless! Reader | Ignorant In Love

(Lovestruck Part 2)

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Violence, Vox being annoying

————

4:30am

Vox woke up, yelping as he sprung out of bed. Not a great decision for his sore back as his clawed hand immediately went to brace it. Groaning, his eyes fluttered, attempting to recall what got him in such a tizzy waking up

Right. Another dream.

Vox had been, haunted, by that humiliating event last week. Even more so that he finally realize how incredibly enamored he was with her.

His screen flushing red at this realization of his current situation, Vox decided to rise out of bed. What good was sulking going to do?

Since that day, (Y/n) hadn’t smiled once more at him. Oh how he craves it. Vox acts like he doesn’t care, but he’s aching for another fix. Another high of seeing that smile. He would do anything and everything just to experience that euphoria one last time, just one drop of it.

Getting dressed for the day, Vox was looking at his bow tie collection, seeking out one of his favorite ties before realizing it had been ruined from the coffee.

Frustrated, he grabbed a random one from the pile, not really thinking too much about it as he put it on.

He stomped out of his quarters, his heels dramatically clacking against the floor as he made his way to his office. It was far too early in the morning for anyone to be active, too late for Val to be doing work (at least IN the office, and not at the club), so the quite walk gave his ever-running mind more time to think

What the hell has gotten into him?! He’s a VEE, THE VEE. If anything, this is woman should be loosing sleep and foaming over him!

‘That’s what I like most though’, He thought to himself,’She’s real. She doesn’t tell me just what I want to hear, or cause problems for me, she’s just…her, and she simply does it best.’

His internal conflicts were brought to an end once he finally sat down in his chair. Cracking his sore, aching joints, before booting up his monitor system.

————

8:30am

(Y/n)‘s heels clacked against the tiled floors, making her way to her desk. Her desk was one of those circular desks that curved around the middle and touched both sides of the wall. There was a small door on the side that she could enter from, but it blended in seamlessly with the black desk, so it would be hard for someone who didn’t work here on a daily to find.

Once she entered her cubicle-like desk, she logged onto her monitor, clocking in. 8:30am sharp, as always. She began to work on her boss’s meetings, but her eye caught a certain one for today “errand.”

This caught her eye, as Vox always made her run errands during work hours. Mostly for coffee, but she’s ran to the convenience store in the lobby for strange things as well.

“Hmm” she mumbled, before printing off the schedule regardless and putting it in her folder for later at 10.

That was her routine, print off the original schedule for the day, present it to him at 10, and if edits are needed, she’d come back and re-arrange some things, and repeat the process until it was to his liking.

(Y/n)‘s hardest part of the job was the PR portion of it. Normally, it’s for the PR team, but they got sick of the Vees tantrums and the entire department up and quit. Now, (Y/n) handles Vox’s PR, Velvette’s assistant handles hers, and Vox handles Valentino’s himself.

Speaking of PR, she was in for a doozy today. Last Friday, when the coffee incident took place, apparently Vox said some…choice words…to the Radio Demon, and Alastor relayed that information back to his listeners on his radio show.

Sighing, (Y/n) began typing a public rebuttal, going for the “deny and victim blame” strategy, as Velvette called it.

‘Why does Vox have to act so…stupid’ (Y/n) thought, her stoic face staying steady as her fingers flew across the keyboard,’For someone so smart, he sure acts dumb. Maybe he should just be a model for Velvette instead, he’s sure got the looks for it, but he doesn’t have the social skills for a public viewpoint like this-‘

“(Y/N). MY OFFICE. IMMEDIATELY.” Vox yelled.

Her eyes flicker up from her monitor, which was now adorned with two clawed hands gripping the top of it. Vox was leaning over it, his tall, slender frame allowing his screened face to intrude (Y/n)’s personal space, but it’s not like that hasn’t been done the before the weekend.

Locking eyes, he saw the flick of emotion run through her, he almost for a moment let his anger go, almost. He could hear her mumbling those things about him. About how “stupid” he was, his “dumb actions….how “he’s got the looks”….never mind that last part.

“Sir..?” She said, her face immediately turning back cold. Ah, there it goes again, fleeting like time itself.

“Don’t sir me,” Vox said, shoving the monitor who knows where. He crawled on the desk towards (Y/n), before grabbing her chin, pulling her towards him. The force from his arm made it where she was on her feet, but she was now hovering over her chair. Vox cocked his head at her, narrowing his eyes and he whispered towards her.

“I heard you mumbling about me over there. Insubordination will not be…tolerated, at this company. If you want to keep this job, and your soul, I suggest you meet me in my office.”

He let go of her chin, before sliding back off of her desk, and walking towards his office. Vox’s hands were clasped behind his back, as he glanced over his shoulder one last time to look if she was following him.

(Y/n) got up and started walking behind him, her face not giving away any emotion.

‘DAMN IT.’ He thought, his mood growing worse,’That whole little stunt was just to get a rise out of her. To get something!’

————

10:00am

Once they arrived in his office, the door slammed shut behind them. Vox’s electrical bolt from his fingertip locked the door, as he walked towards his chair, took a seat, and swiveled it around to see an unamused (Y/n) awaiting his words.

“So, (Y/n)” He started, his claws tapping against one another, “Would you like to repeat, word for word, what you were mumbling about me, or should I repeat it for you?”

“Okay, I asked myself why you acted so stupid. Your actions are ignorant and your social skills need heavy improvement.” (Y/n) said,”also, for your schedule today you have a meeting at-“

“No no no sugar.” Vox said, smirking as he crossed his legs,”Tell me everything you said.”

“I did” She lied, standing her ground.

“Ah, so Im not good enough to be a model anymore? That’s a shame, I would’ve loved to give you a show, but alas.” He sneered, trying to desperately to get a reaction out of her, but failing miserably.

“Ah, a shame indeed.” She said, deadpanned,”Now, todays schedule consists of one meeting with Valentino at 7:30pm and during your 3:30 slot all it says is ‘Errand’? Sir, I’m confused about that portion, don’t I normally run your errands..?”

Vox gritted his teeth, his hand now clenching the sides of his chair. This was getting ridiculous, no emotions out of this one. God, he should just pour an entire mountain of coffee on himself, muck up his PC and everything just to see her smile.

“I was originally planning to get my clothes back from the dry cleaners myself, but I see that as punishment enough for today. Do it and get out of my office.”

“A-Alright sir.” (Y/n) said. They locked eyes, and Vox immediately regretted pushing so far for a reaction. Her eyes showed hurt in them.

Vox couldn’t bring himself to say anything, his face contorted with many emotions. One side of him was over the moon, he made her show something! The other side was in immense regret, he didn’t want to hurt her, that was by far from the plan.

Once she left the office, he started throwing monitors again in frustration.

————

10:30am

(Y/n) didn’t even return to her desk, instead opting for a little stroll down to the convenience store down in the lobby. She picked up a drink and a candy bar to take back to her desk as a little pick me up

Well, she attempted to go back to her desk, she ended up just going to a secluded corner in the building, only adorned by a lonely bench, a plant, and a security camera in the hallway.

(Y/n) sat there on the bench, sighing from stress and she took a chunk of her candy bar.

Sitting there, she replayed the interaction in her mind once more. The way he was so, powerful, it made her cheeks dust pink, with equal parts admiration and humiliation as she smiled to herself, lowering her head. She softly chuckled before taking her wrapper of her snack and going to seek out a trash can.

Little did she know that Vox was watching her every move on his monitor, stalking every security camera that tipped off her motion. He was nearly short circuiting at her little smile. Vox noticed how her shoulders bounced as she chucked slightly. He really wished he could just call her into his office, but it was already time for her to pick up his dry cleaning. Sighing to himself, he adjusted his bow tie.

Out of his entire collection, he just had to pick the most irritating one out of all of them. It was entirely too tight and the material was so unpleasant.

Sighing, he just untied it and threw it on his desk, reveling a small sliver of his skin beneath it.

————

3:45pm

“I’m here to pick up Vox’s clothes.” (Y/n) said, making the worker scramble to go retrieve the Overlord’s clothes.

“H-Here you go ma’am! Do you mind checking to see if everything is in there? We don’t want to forget any article of our valuable costumer’s clothing!”

“Sure” She replied with her signature neutral expression, opening up the box of neatly folded clothes to see his entire wardrobe from that day, except something was missing…a key part of his ensemble.

“Ah, where is his bow tie?”

“Oh, did he not tell you? We had to return it to him, the fabric of it was too thin, it would’ve burnt up in the dryer.”

“Oh, well thank you.” (Y/n) said,”everything looks like it’s in order.”

“Have a good day!” The worker said, earning a nod from (Y/n) as she walked out of the dry cleaners.

‘He wore that bow tie often’ (Y/n) thought to herself,’ Maybe since I pissed him off earlier today, I can get him another to make it up to him.’

She strolled by the clothing district before entering the tailors shop, browsing the different selection of items for a while before the clerk cleared his throat.

“Ma’am, is there something I can help you with?”

“Ah yes, I’m looking for a bow tie with a certain fabric to it. It’s rather thin, I need a replacement.”

“You? A replacement?” The man chuckled, looking over at her,”I think I know which one you’re talking about, but I dare say I don’t think you’re in the tax bracket to be purchasing that.”

“I’ll purchase what I please.” (Y/n) retorted, her dead eyes looking into the man’s cocky ones

“Oh really? And who is this for?”

“Vox.”

The man started howling in laughter,”YOU?! FOR THE TECH OVERLORD?? OH PLEASE I-“

(Y/n) briskly walked over and slammed the man’s head down on the table.

“Yes. I suggest you make it quick due to your little interruption.”

“And why should I?”

(Y/n) gripped him by the hair, making his eyes meet hers,”Vox is my boyfriend, and so help me I’ll let him tear you limb from limb just because I said pretty please, now fucking do it.”

“Y-Yes ma’am.” He said, as she let go of his hair, he scrambled to the back room to give her a lavish tie. Instead of the navy blue one he had previously, it was near black with bright blue strips adorning the sides of the fabric where it curved in on itself.

“Hmm, this will do.” (Y/n) said, snatching the box before walking away.

“W-Wait, aren’t you going to pay?”

“Pay? You should be dead where you stand for messing with me today. This is your pay.”

And with that, she walked out of the store, leaving the man shocked.

————

8:00pm

Walking into Vox’s office, (Y/n) looked around to see Vox nowhere in sight.

“Ah right,” (Y/n) muttered to herself, despite the fact that very action got her in a tight situation with her boss earlier that day,”Meeting with Valentino. I’ll just set his stuff down here.”

(Y/n) looked around once more, before setting his clothes neatly on the desk. Patting it down to remove it of any lint that couldn’t accrued on the bag, before setting the nicely wrapped gift atop of it, adorning it with a letter signed to him.

————

9:00pm

Vox groggily walked back into his office, after his “productive” meeting with Valentino on his public image. Not a word went to that moth’s head. One ear and out the freaking other.

He closed his eyes, plopping down unceremoniously into his chair, not even bothering for the brooding dramatics this time.

Rubbing his eyes, he really contemplated calling it quits early tonight. But alas, Vox never does, that’s the mantra of a workaholic.

His digital eyes fluttering open once more, he gazed upon the clothes neatly laid there for him. Smiling he looked at it before his smile turned into confusion. Why was there a box? Wrapped with a ribbon…?

He slowly and gently grabbed onto the small box, unwrapping it like an inpatient child on Christmas morning, only to reveal a new bow tie, the one he ached for the entire day.

This one was nicer though, how she scrounged up some money to “buy it”, he didn’t know, but he was eternally grateful.

His eye caught the letter that was now sitting beside where the box was, it fell off when Vox took the box. He held the envelope and slit the seal with his claw like a letter opener.

“Dear Vox,

I sincerely apologize for this morning. I was out of line. I just don’t really know how to process everything. I feel like you’d understand being mechanical and all, but I don’t know how to process emotion.

Normally, I feel nothing towards anyone, but there’s something weird going on. This strangely warm feeling in my chest and my face, I feel clammy around you, and you specifically.

Feel free to ignore this, but here’s my number. Contact me if you are willing to help my predicament. Enjoy the gift regardless, you deserve it. Also, stop coming to work at 5 in the morning. You’re not sneaky, I see when you’ve clocked in on your schedule.

-(Y/n) (L/n)”

Vox was beaming, a pure genuine smile. He might be a lovestruck fool, but she’s ignorantly in love.

————

Word Count: 2,540

(Part 3?)

TAGLIST

@burningfishkidlamp

@koji-akeme

@callmechito

@neito327

@chocolat3pudding

@yellowsubiesdance

[xzaddyzanakinx]

My Best Girl

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x Femme Reader Oneshot

18+ MDNI

Warnings: domestic violence/abuse, non-con/dub-con, oral sex, emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting

Info: this is a graphic and accurate depiction of an instance of domestic abuse/non-con. Read at your own risk.

🕊dead dove do not eat🕊

“Don't lie to me," he snarled, his hands gripping your wrists tightly. "I saw you."

He leaned in closer, his ice blue eyes boring into yours, filled with pure undiluted jealousy.

"Tell me the truth." Anakin’s fingers dug into your wrists just like your knees dug into the tile of the kitchen floor.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter, having a wonderful little moment to yourself. A big tall glass of blue koolaid, your favorite snack and your comfort cartoon playing quietly on your phone for background noise while you worked diligently on repairing your younger brother Luke’s loth-cat stuffie.

The poor thing had been through the wringer this week; left all alone in the cold dark cubby overnight in his preschool classroom, ran over by Leia’s tricycle, and his undoing was being left unattended in the living room under the watchful eye of your family dog. The horrible shriek that pierced your ears was enough to burst your eardrums, you went rushing, hoping that you didn’t walk into a bloody mess.

Though the tantrum that ensued after his initial shock was more than enough to wish maybe just alittle bit that Leia had just wacked him upside the head with her toy doctor’s kit again.

You’d sworn on your life that his ‘only best friend’ would have his leg reattached and in it’s rightful place under his arm when he woke up tomorrow morning.

So there you sat, sewing his leg back on when your stepfather Anakin returned home from work. Covered in oil and grease from his day at the garage, he walked past the kitchen and gave you a wave and crooked smile. You gladly returned the gesture, your relationship with your stepdad had begun rocky, arguments and mean words exchanged on a daily basis. But now, months later, you’d finally begun to get along.

He was a good man, a good dad; it wasn’t his fault that he had a bit of an anger issue. He worked hard to keep it in check, attending therapy, taking CBD gummies, he even tried meditating.

You’d quickly come to realize that his anger was a front to hide his vulnerabilities. He was a horribly cocky and arrogant person outwardly. But inside, tucked away in a beat up box, was a messily stored collection of vulnerabilities and insecurities.

Anakin thrived on praise and affection, he was happiest when he was eight inches deep in your poor little fucked-out pussy. Bathing in the sounds of your babbled compliments, the sweet lilt of your whiny voice when you begged him for more. His favorite thing? The best compliment? The quickest way to reassure him of his worth? That was the devastatingly wet *shlck* of his cock sliding home between your thighs.

It never failed to astound him. The way your body responded to him, the way you were tucked under his thumb. When he was pounding into you night after night while your mother worked the late shift; that’s when he truly came to life.

You made him feel needed. Wanted. Valued. But most importantly? Worshipped.

There was nothing else like the rush of warm adoration he felt from every little noise your pretty mouth made. It flowed over his tired, work-worn body and soothed all his stress away. He needed it. He craved it. He had to have it.

You.

You were the only thing that mattered.

It would be an understatement to say that he regretted marrying your mother. Every second of every day he hated her more. She wasn’t you. She could never be you.

Divorce, the hours of research on annulments, laws and stipulations, the legality of things. He’d searched through it all. He had the best lawyer in the state on speed-dial. Set on retainer for the moment he saw his opportunity to snatch up his brand new trophy wife.

But it’s not exactly acceptable to divorce your wife of six months to run off with her freshly 18 year old daughter is it? No. But was he going to do it? Absolutely.

You were his good girl.

You were his good girl, til now.

Anakin crouched down in front of you, getting on your level somehow made you feel even smaller. Any other time you would’ve taken the time to admire his freshly washed hair that stuck to his forehead in little swoops, the scent of his cedar soap, his bare chest and that delicious V carved into his lower abdomen.

But instead all you could see was the hard line of his lips, his knitted eyebrows… he was trying so hard to be angry. But you could tell he was just in pain, those big beautiful blue eyes were holding back tears, and you so badly wanted to comfort him, to make him understand.

“Anakin. Please listen.” You pleaded with him, desperate to get him to hear you out.

“Oh? I’ve been listening.” He stood back up and grabbed your hair roughly, tilting your head back to force you into eye contact. “I just don’t believe what I heard.”

“Just look!” You said gesturing at your phone laying on the counter near him, the screen cracked. “Please just look at you’ll see.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Seeing what I already know is there.” He scowled.

“Am I not good enough for you?” He hissed, shaking your head by your hair. “Is that it?”

Before you could even answer him he grabbed your jaw and pried your mouth open and shoved two fingers down your throat.

“That’s alright. You don’t deserve me anyway.”

Collecting your saliva on his digits, he removed his fingers and flicked the spit on your face, making you flinch.

“Not even gonna waste my spit on you.” His voice tinged with hurt under the grit of his anger.

Your eyes welled up with tears, never had he spoken to you this way. You never imagined that he was capable of being so mean. Of course he had his issues, you’d argued plenty before you both finally allowed the hands of fate to shove you into each other’s arms. But never like this.

“I come home from work, see you sitting all pretty and patient for me.” He starts, his voice low and dark.

“Then I come back from the shower, ready to hold and love and spoil you just like I do every night. I leaned in to give you a sweet little kiss and what do I see?” You weren’t sure if he wanted an answer, so you stayed silent and waited. Apparently that was the wrong thing to do.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He grumbled. “You were so eager to talk earlier, so fucking talk.”

“You saw me decline a phone call.” You said quietly, trying hard to keep eye contact with him through the blurriness in your vision.

“A phone call from who?” He prodded.

“My friend Tyler.” You answered meekly.

“Exactly.” He released your hair by pushing you backwards, causing you to catch yourself with your elbow right on the granite tile flooring.

Pain shot up your upper arm and wracked your body with a momentary spasm of tension as your brain tried to sort out this new pain. Extended your arm gently you breathed in relief that it wasn’t actually damaged, but you would definitely have a gnarly bruise.

Anakin had turned around, his back to you. One hand on the kitchen counter and the other ruffling his wet hair, shaking off water droplets as he did so.

“Why?” He asked, his tone quieter but no less menacing. “Why would you hang up like that if there wasn’t anything to hide?”

“B-because Ani, I was talking to you!” You tried to explain as you stood up and hesitantly stepped closer to him.

“Don’t.” He barked over his shoulder. “Don’t you fucking touch me.”

“I was- okay.” You said, backing away.

“Anakin I was just trying to focus on you that’s all. You’d just gotten home, I didn’t want to be bothered while I was spending time with you.” Your whisper sounded cracked, broken.

“Why is a boy calling you at 8:00 on a Friday huh?” He spun around quickly and grabbed your arm.

“They’re not a-“ You tried to speak, to explain yourself but he didn’t give you a second breath.

He stole the air from your lungs and the words from your mouth with a resounding *smack* to your cheek. The impact was so forceful that your head felt like it was on swivel and you stumbled back. Too shocked to even cry, too hurt to look at him.

“Were you planning to cheat? Is that what this is?” He scoffed.

“N-no!” You squeaked. “No I wouldn’t! Never!”

He laughed, not in amusement or cynicism, but in a strangled bout of hysteria.

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” His teeth clenched and bared.

“You think someone else would treat you as well as I do? That they’d be able to put up with your attitude?” He laughed again, pointing his finger in your face.

“You’re a fucking brat you know that? There’s not another man in this galaxy who could love you like I do. You’re a spoiled bitch. But you’re my spoiled bitch.”

You flinched at his choice of words. He’d called you a brat plenty of times, sometimes even as a term of endearment. Bitch though? The thought of him calling you that was previously inconceivable.

“You want me to show you how someone else would treat you? How this stupid fucker Tyler would handle you?” He growled, putting a hand on the back of your neck and forcing you to your knees.

“Anakin wait! Just let-“ He shoved your face into the soft flannel of his pajama pants, fisting your hair to hold you in place while he ground his cock across your tear stained cheeks.

“No sweetheart I’m not Anakin right now remember? I’m anyone but me.” He corrected you.

“Take your fucking shirt off. I want to see those pretty tits.” He smirked as he watched you quickly comply. “There. Not so difficult Hmm?”

You shook your head no in agreement with him, hoping to appease him. You had no idea where this was going, but you knew for damn sure that you weren’t gonna like it.

“That’s right.” He said as he gripped your jaw once more, chuckling when you instinctively dropped your mouth open. “That was the last easy thing you’ll be doing tonight.”

“Pull out my cock.” He demanded, the look on his face giving no indication that this was negotiable.

You hesitated, then steeled yourself to comply with his order. His pretty cock, the beautiful thing that made you feel like you were floating amongst the clouds… was standing tall and proud. This was the only time you’d ever been unhappy to see it and you hoped it was the last time too.

“Oh don’t look at me like that.” He grumbled. “This is what you wanted isn’t it? To be a whore? To cheat on me?”

“No! Anakin Tyler isn’t-“ He scoffed and took advantage of your open mouth and forced your head down around his length.

“Fuck.” He mumbled his stomach muscles tightened momentarily before relaxing again.

“Finally some fucking peace and quiet. I’m sick of your whining. I don’t ever want to hear that fuckboy’s name again do you understand me?” He growled, his eyes filled with jealousy painted red with rage.

Anakin started to thrust quick and shallow into your mouth panting while he glared down at you like you were his mortal enemy.

“You like this?” He asked, watching you shake your head no vigorously. “No? Didn’t think you would.”

“Can’t fucking believe this shit.” He moaned, tipping his head back toward the ceiling before letting his chin fall to his chest.

He growled, seeing you drool down the column of your throat. A fire lit behind his eyes and burst into an inferno after only seconds of this brutal punishment.

“Move your tongue.” He commanded, jerking your head to the side when you didn’t do it immediately. “Fuck, that’s better.”

Your tongue lay flat against the under side of his shaft as his cockhead started to bully its way down your throat, in and out in deep ruthless strokes. Tears pricked your eyes and began to fall, this time from discomfort instead of the horrible emotional pain he’d dealt to you.

“What?” He laughed again, looking down at you with a menacing grin that didn’t meet his glassy eyes. “Don’t wanna be a whore anymore do you?”

You shook your head no to the best of your ability and Anakin nodded in agreement, his breath caught in his throat just like his cock was stuck in yours.

“This is how men treat whores.” He said matter of factly. “Like a stupid little fuck toy. Do you want to be a stupid fuck toy?”

“No of course you don’t.” He tsk’d. “You want to be my good girl, my sweet princess.”

You nodded vigorously, choking on his length accidentally from the quick movement.

Your gag reflex kicked in violently, caused by your choking fit as you tried to cough, your body begging for some control to be returned to you. You struggled to breathe as he continued his brutal assault on your throat. But despite the pain, there was an odd thrill running through you, a sick satisfaction knowing you were pleasing him in this way. You should hate him for what he’s doing right now, but it would be a lie if you said you didn’t find it alittle bit hot.

He was unraveling quickly, his hips snapping fast and deep. You heard the familiar change in breathing that happen just moments before he would cum, the cute little high-pitched whimpers that left his beautiful plump lips.

You tapped his thigh, looking up at him with furrowed brows and pleading eyes. Begging him to relent for just moment so you could breathe.

“No, I’m close. You can wait." he growled back, his pace unrelenting, but his voice becoming shaky.

“I don’t understand.” He panted, looking down at you with a pained expression. “Why would you want to be treated this way when I give you all the love in the world? When I love you so much?

“Seeing you hurt like this baby… it hurts me.” He sniffled, on the verge of tears.

“Just think, imagine it sweetheart; what if you went out there tonight and that horrible guy did this to you?” His eyebrows turned up in a deep swoop.

“You know I’m only doing this to help you right baby?” He let out a choked sob as his cock twitched in your mouth.

“I don’t want you to get hurt! I love you!” He cried out, his own tears freely flowing, salty drips hitting your face as he stared down at you with the face of a broken man.

“Promise me you won’t ever make me do this again.” He whispered, lovingly wiping the tears from your eyes. “I can’t stand it.”

“Promise? You won’t ever do it again? Please baby.” He cried, his chest heaving with a sob as his face scrunched up.

“Can’t do that to me, you can’t! I’d die.” He was practically hysterical, seeing him like this was tearing you apart in ways his rough treatment couldn’t. The pain and torture in his voice was a worse punishment.

“I wouldn’t wanna live without you. I wouldn’t.” He sobbed, his thumbs softly caress your cheekbones made you forget all about the way he was brutalizing you. It made you forget the hurtful things he’d said. You weren’t even sure your throat would be sore after this; how could it be worse than having your heart bruised the way Anakin’s must be?

“My sweet girl.” He sniffled. “My poor baby, I’m sorry. So sorry I had to do this. You understood don’t you doll?

You nodded, crying for an entirely different reason now. If you could, you’d be wailing. Pleading with him as you comforted him with kisses and gentle touches, holding him as he cried over your actions. How could you have done this? How could you be so cruel!?

“Good girl baby.” He hiccuped. “Good girl. I love you. Love you so much babydoll, g-gonna hold you n’ make love to you like you deserve.”

His hips stuttered against your mouth, his stomach tense and his hand tightened around your hair.

“My best girl.” He whined. “Do you want my cum? Those horrible bad men wouldn’t give it to you. They wouldn’t know how much you love it.”

You nodded, eyes rolling back in your head. He’s right. They wouldn’t know, how could they know? No one knew you like Anakin did.

“Mmm… yeah? G-goddamn.” He whimpered, pushing your face deep into his groin, your nose pressed firmly into the curly hairs at the base of his cock.

He sobbed, a full loud heart-wrenching sob as he came violently down your throat. You gratefully drank it down, thankful he’d let you have it after all you’d put him through.

Gently he pulled himself from your mouth, wiping his eyes dry as he sniffled. Tucking himself back into his pants before scooping you up into his arms and rocking you against his chest. Then he walked over to the recliner in the living room and sat down with you.

He let you cry it out while showering you with love and affection and beautiful sweet words in his warm honeyed voice. Finally once you’d calmed down he tilted your chin up to face him. Giving you a slow sensual kiss. The kind of kiss that was almost sticky, your lips wanting to stay connected for as long as possible.

“Are you okay sweetheart? Do you need anything?” He whispered against your lips in a pleading tone.

“No.” You shook your head, still taking shaky short gasping breaths. “M’so sorry Ani.”

“Oh baby. No, it’s okay.” He cooed. “You didn’t know. That’s why I had to teach you huh?”

“Uh huh.” You sniffled.

“You understand now don’t you doll? No body could ever love you like I do.” He squeezed you tightly as you agreed.

“That was horrible wasn’t it?” He sighed. “Those other boys… oh princess it would be so much worse you know that?”

“I couldn’t be as mean to you as they could, not even half as bad.” He said softly as if the information were scary to even say outloud.

“R-really?” You squeaked, not even half as bad? You shivered at the thought that if could ever be worse than he’d shown you.

“Yes baby.” He nodded, a sad and solemn expression on his tear streaked face.

“Th-thank you Ani.” You sniffled. Feeling grateful that he wasn’t even capable of what must be such horrendous brutality.

“Oh sweetheart. Don’t thank me,” he whispered, petting your head. “Just hold me and I’ll hold you okay? We both need alittle extra snuggles tonight after that don’t we?”

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

@aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn

@illiethefairy @bunnylovesani @offthethirlwall

@slutforhayden @ausskywalker @angelsadmired

@slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

@starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @no1klet @lethargic

@allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi

@bobtheturmpetman29 @mortalheartache

@fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot

@joshfutturmansrighthand @chaoticantihero

@vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee

@sweetcheesecakesblog@rga11 @luvskywxlker

@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled

[shadowdaddies]

can i please request one with cassian x reader where reader is pregnant but doesn’t know and is being extra clingy to cassian. literally he’s going up to drink some water and she’s going with him or he’s training and she’s sitting next to him waiting for him to finish. And at meetings she’s sitting in his lap and holds him close. everyone wonders why that is bc reader doesn’t usually like pda. the bond knows before them that she’s pregnant and she subconsciously wants to stay close to her mate to feel protected. they eventually find out after feyre recognizes the signs she also had and everyone are so happy for them, cassians extra possessiveness and protective instincts go crazyyyy😍🧎‍♀️

Okay so I'm combining this with this other Cassian x pregnant!reader request because I like how the stories go together:

So the first part of the story is fluffy, reader finding out she's pregnant. I'll mark with an * in the story for when it shifts from fluff to the action-packed part so you can decide for yourselves if you want to just enjoy the fluff or read the whole thing (I like the whole thing, I love how this turned out)

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone mortal combat while pregnant

Protect Our Family

Cassian x Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of sex, not proofread

Overwhelmed by fatigue, you were nauseous and achy as you had been on and off for several weeks now. It felt as if you had a cold and your cycle at the same time, but you weren’t due for your cycle for another six weeks. You weren’t sure what had you feeling so off balance lately, but you were overcome with anxiety anytime you were apart from Cassian. 

From the moment you woke up in the morning, you could feel the bond urging you to find your mate. It was different from the frenzy when you first accepted the bond; it was a sense of security you craved, one that was never sated until you felt Cassian’s comforting presence. One day, you joined Cassian to go to the River House for a meeting with Rhys about the Illyrian camps. The males were in the office while you talked with Feyre, the two of you playing with Nyx in the living room. 

They weren’t long into the meeting when you started feeling panicked again, that draw to find Cassian overwhelming your senses. Feyre immediately sensed your stress. “Are you feeling alright? You look like you’re going to be sick,” she questioned you with a concerned look. Clutching your hand to your chest, you took a deep breath. “I don’t know, Feyre. I’ve been feeling so sick lately, like I’m on my cycle except that I know I’m not. And I know this sounds ridiculous, but I have this new instinct that I have to be near Cassian for safety. I don’t know, I think I need to see Madja.” 

You looked over to Feyre, bracing yourself for the incredulous look you were sure to receive, but instead found her teary eyed, a soft smile on her face as she shifted her glance from your face, to your stomach, and then to where Nyx was playing with his toys. Frozen in place as realization dawned on you, you simply gaped at Feyre, who turned back to you and nodded reassuringly. “I had all the same signs early in my pregnancy with Nyx. The bond is pushing you to be around your mate to protect your baby.” 

Hearing the words “your baby” out loud brought both you and Feyre to tears of joy as you stood to hug her. As if the recognition of the pregnancy triggered it, your scent changed. There was no denying it now, you and Cassian were going to have a child. You laughed through your tears as you watched Nyx run up to Feyre, trying to grasp how that would be you soon enough. Cassian and Rhys came out of the office at the sound, concern on their features as they saw your and Feyre’s tears, before they scented you. 

You turned to Cassian, your broad smile affirming that they were in fact cries of joy as you nodded to him, “you’re going to be a dad.” An stunning wave of love flowed to you through the bond as you and Cassian ran to embrace each other. A tear rolled down Cassian’s cheek as he whispered in awe, “we’re going to have a baby.”

*

The moment faded quickly as Cassian looked to Rhys with a grim expression on his face. Cass growled out, “I’m not leaving her here.” You looked frantically between the two males, trying to decipher what Cassian meant as you took in Rhys’s conflicted expression. 

“What do you mean, leave me here, Cass?” you breathed out. Cassian looked down at you with a fierce expression before kissing the top of your head. “I need to go to Windhaven. There’s suspicions that Koschei’s spies have infiltrated the camps and Azriel believes they’re planning an attack soon.” Looking between you and Rhys, Cassian continued, “I can’t leave the soldiers during a time like this, but I’m not leaving you and our child right now.” 

The weight of an anvil fell on your chest as you registered the gravity of the situation. Before another tear could fall from your eyes, Feyre stepped forward. “What if we all went up to the camps?” She squeezed your hand as she looked to you, “I will leave Nyx here with Elain, but keep you company up at the cabin, so we can stay close to Cassian without being in harm’s way at Windhaven.” No one was excited about the idea, but it was the best option you had.

You and Cassian stayed awake all night, making love as you celebrated the life you would soon be bringing into the world, but come dawn, you were filled with dread at the thought of your mate being in danger and away from your child. The four of you left for the camps early in the morning, Cassian and Rhys helping you and Feyre get settled into the cabin before they left to meet Azriel at Windhaven. It took everything in you to deny your instincts to follow Cass to the camp, but you felt peace knowing that Rhys was with him, and they would not be far in the event of trouble, which Rhys assured you was highly unlikely. 

You held back your tears as Cassian begrudgingly winnowed away with Rhysand, and settled into the couch with Feyre. You had been relaxing on the couch for awhile, Feyre giving you advice on your pregnancy while you two sipped on tea, when Feyre’s eyes turned that glazed look that let you know she was communicating mind-to-mind with Rhys. She kept her composure impressively; if you didn’t know her so well, you wouldn’t have known the way her eyes widened and the tick in her jaw was her tell. Something was wrong.

You jolted up from the couch, prepared to find and protect your mate when Feyre gently grabbed your arm, drawing you back to your surroundings. She spoke to you as one might a startled animal, “Rhysand was just informing me that there is an attack at the camp. It’s a small group, though, and the Illyrian soldiers far outnumber Koschei’s party. They can handle this.” Despite every bone in your body telling you to do otherwise, you nodded as you sat back down on the couch. Feyre gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll go fix us some food in kitchen.” 

You tried to relax on the couch, but that instinct from before was back. You needed to be with Cassian. You needed your family together. You padded into the kitchen where Feyre was cooking, catching her in a tense position over the stove as she seemed to be speaking to Rhys again. Before she could even turn to address you, you had winnowed to Windhaven.

Chaos raged throughout the camp. At every turn, you witnessed a battle or a body. Without a second thought, you let your protective instincts for your family take over, grabbing a sword from the ground as you raced through the camp in search of Cassian. Fortunately, the Illyrian warriors recognized you as their General’s mate, and worked with you as you fought off soldier after soldier in Koschei’s army. 

A soldier cornered you in front of a tent, taunting you. “I can smell that little Illyrian brute inside of you. What a favor I’ll bring to the world to rid-“ His threat was cut off by an obsidian knife through his throat. Blood splattered as Azriel yanked truth-teller out of the male’s throat, throwing his body to the ground. Before you could explain what you were doing there, Azriel pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he murmured, “congratulations, sister.” 

You only had a moment to be shocked by Azriel’s uncharacteristic affection before two more males approached you, and you two were thrust into the throws of battle once more. Adrenaline surging through you, it felt as though a mere second had passed from when you’d arrived to now, as you stopped to look around at the bodies that littered the ground, the battle seemingly over.

You turned to see Azriel, who you’d been fighting along side, taking deep breaths as he came down from his own adrenaline rush. It was then he looked at you with a bewildered expression, registering what you had just done. He came over to you, frantically searching for any injuries as he tried to keep his calm. “What were you thinking? Cassian is going to lose his shit. You went into battle pregnant!” Az said, almost more to himself as you both tried to comprehend all that had transpired.

It was then that you caught sight of your mate further across the camp, sprinting towards him without a second thought. Cassian did a double-take as he saw you running to him, frozen in shock as you felt his fear through the bond. You had no time to feel guilt as you threw yourself into his arms, hugging him as though he might disappear if you let go. When you finally pulled apart enough to look him in the eyes, you were taken aback by his intense gaze. “Please don’t be angry. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew something happened to you, Cass. I need you,” grabbing his hand and holding it against your stomach, you emphasized, “we need you. We are a family, and I will always come for you.” 

Cassian leaned down to kiss you deeply before pulling away to whisper, “I love you. But you are pregnant, and I will always be the one to protect us. I am-“ 

Before he could finish his sentence, a figure approaching behind Cassian caught your attention. In the blink of an eye, you drew a throwing knife from his belt, throwing it into the chest of the soldier just before he could thrust his sword into Cassian. Cass whipped around to see the soldier on the ground before turning back to see you cocking an eyebrow at him. “WE protect this family.”

[so-mordor-itis]

Nightmares Are Dreams, Too

Synopsis: Leon still has nightmares of Raccoon City, but this time you're there with him.

A/N: Felt like writing some hurt/comfort, enjoy!!

The worst part wasn't even the nightmares. It was the aftermath. The way he woke up with sweat clinging to his skin, the way his heart raced as if he had just ran a marathon and he needed to take multiple deep breaths just to calm himself down, the way his entire body would shake. The way the images of his terror flashed in his mind still. The blood. The violence. Raccoon City. What else would he dream about anymore? Certainly not unicorns and rainbows.

This night was no different. Leon was used to it now, the way his memories followed him like a shadow. They were his shadow. They were the darkness of him, excited to terrorize him again and again. He had woken up rather quickly this time, hoping that would stop the images of blood and violence and the sounds of zombies moaning. It didn't. Of course it didn't.

He could feel himself sweating. The cold air of the night had told him so. The breeze coming from an open window blew against his skin, and he shivered. He gently pulled the covers off of him to close it as quietly as he could. Leon didn't want to wake you again for the third time in a row that week. He just wanted to close the window so he wouldn't be cold.

You shuffled a little, and his heart dropped, but when you said nothing, he sighed. Leon lifted his hand and noticed he was trembling. He mentally cursed.

"You okay?" Hearing your voice, he slightly jumped. He thought you were asleep. Leon glanced at the bed you two shared and watched how you rubbed one of your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's like I have a signal in my head now to tell me you're not in bed." You held a look of concern at him, eyebrows knitted. He hated when you worried about him, which made him feel guilty. Leon just didn't want to fill your plate with mostly worrying about what he was doing and what he was going through.

"I'm alright," he mumbled, flexing the hand that was trembling. "Was cold, so I needed to close the window." Leon was fibbing, and he didn't like doing that either.

"If you had another nightmare, you know it's okay to tell me," you assured, head tilted. Your eyes still had sleep in them.

He hesitated. "Yeah. It's the same damn thing over and over," he was surprised how fast he told you, how fast he caved. He didn't even realize just how easy you had demolished his walls entirely. He also didn't realize you were approaching him. "It's always Raccoon City. Always."

"You're alright," you said calmly, your hand touching his cheek with such kindness he almost broke. Compared to his cool skin, the warmth of your hand was jarring. He leaned into your touch, craving it. "You don't have to always act tough. It's okay."

"I just didn't want to wake you up again," he said eventually. "That would be the third time this week."

"I don't care about waking up," you responded, giving him a small smile. "I'm here for you, and I'd gladly risk not sleeping for that." You nudged him to wrap his arms around you, so you could hold him, and he did. Leon couldn't say no to you, didn't want to ever say no to you. His strong arms cocooned your form, and he buried his face into your neck. Your presence was enough to calm his tremors.

He loved you. God, he really loved you. He wanted to say more, tell you how much this meant to him. But the words were stuck on his tongue, and they wouldn't leave.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" You asked him, and your voice was a bit muffled from his shirt.

"Yeah, I probably should," he replied, though he didn't want to let go. The idea of leaving you after this was like a knife to the chest. "I got to work in the morning." Inevitably, he would be ripped from your arms anyway.

You two shuffled back into the covers, and Leon couldn't help but wrap his arms around you again. You returned the gesture gladly, and he noticed you snuggling into his chest. He ran his fingers through your hair, pressed his nose to the top of your head, and kissed your temple.

He no longer felt cold.

"What would I do without you?" He said into your hair. You could probably feel his warm breath.

"Something stupid." You said, you shook your head, and he could feel your nose rubbing against his chest.

You weren't wrong, and that scared him.

~

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[faerievampling]

Killing Time

Chapter 4: The Hunt

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Pairing: Soft Ascended Astarion x Spawn Female Tav

Word Count: 4.8k

Link to Ao3!

Warning: 18+. Explicit. Vaginal Fingering. PiV. Dom Astarion. Violence. Blood. blood drinking. Possessive behavior.

A/N: Posting early. can't believe this story is already at nearly 20k words. I hope you all enjoy. <3

Screenshot by: @cheekylittlepupp <3 <3

If you weren’t a vampire, you knew you would have been sore as all hells when you woke up. But lucky for you, the only thing that was aching was your fangs and your swollen, slick cunt.

Your night with Astarion was so sweet, tender, but now you were both craving each other. Your stomach growls as you nestle further into Astarion’s arms. 

“Are you ready for what the day will bring?” Astarion reaches out, gentle as ever. You knew he had bad news for you, so he would treat you tenderly. 

You sigh. “Just tell me what you’ve decided on.” Your voice is but a whisper because of your still sleeping servant, Cynthia. Your internal vampire clock tells you it’s rather early in the morning, just before the rest of the crèche will awaken. 

Astarion turns on his side, pushing his hardening cock against your abdomen, rutting into you ever so lightly. He just wanted you to know he’s interested, is all.

“We must keep the feedings to twice a day. You will eat human food between those feedings.”

You move to meet his gaze; his face is still, but his eyes are round, open, and you sense his uncertainty. You place a hand to his chest, eyes widening to a girlish stare you knew he loved.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Astarion quips at you, but his tone is hushed, tender, loving, and you know he very much does like when you beg. “I’m serious, Tav.”

You bat your eyelashes. “Then don’t be serious. Tell me you're joking.”

“Be my sweet girl and don’t fight me on this, love.” Astarion pleads before pressing his lips to yours. 

When he deepens the kiss, you catch his lip with your fang, lapping at the crimson that flowers from the wound before healing. Astarion grabs your jaw, his grasp firm, your cheeks between his fingers and thumb.

Behind his ruby eyes is a burning furnace of passion for you. His consort. His wife. His eternal lover.

His movements are quick, his fangs gently sinking into the taunt flesh of your neck. His cock is begging to be freed, but Astarion can only rub it against you as he drinks you in.

He’s only sipping on you, just wanting a taste of what is his.

When he pulls away, his eyes are wild, and he swiftly re-adjusts to nestle you to his own neck, where you waste no time sinking your fangs into him.

You bite down rather hard, causing Astarion to gasp, which only excites you further. Your hand has mindlessly found its way to his cock, and you’re stroking it through his clothing as you drink him in. 

With one hand settled into the root of your hair, Astarion grips the curve of your hip, nails digging into your skin. 

“Be quiet.” His voice rings out so fast in your mind that you barely register it before you feel Astarion’s hand between your thighs.

Instinctively, you lift one leg, draping it over Astarion’s hip as his fingers move past the waistband of your panties, stuffing a finger inside you effortlessly. Your hand flies to cup his jaw, your senses on fire.

He inserts another finger into you on his next stroke, and your body is already vibrating at the sensation. Astarion already knows where he wants to be and reaches into your depths, behind your throbbing clitorus, to that sweet tender spot inside you.

You mewl a bit before Astarion hushes you. When his thumb begins to circle your swollen nub, he has you creaming around him almost instantaneously, and you feel absolutely fucking incredible between your orgasm and his blood.

As you’re seeing stars, clenching around Astarion’s handsome, dexterous fingers, his half of your shared connection envelopes you: he’s savoring your orgasm, riding along the folds of your mind as you feed and come. Sharing in your exhilaration only makes him adore you more. 

“Oh, my darling…” Astarion presses his cheek into you, his hands continuing to explore your body as you gently hum against him, careful not to tear his skin with your fangs. 

When you finally unlatch, you both begin to sense the stirring of the crèche.

Astarion’s imagination is going wild at all the ways he wants to fuck you. His cock still rocking against you, desperate for release. 

“Don’t worry about me, my love. We will find time for you to fully satiate me soon. You can count on it. I’ll be buried in your cunt soon enough.” Astarion is teasing, still touching your sensitive folds as you try to squirm away from him, the overstimulation of your clit being too much. 

You certainly felt better after your orgasm and feeding, but you’re still upset at the sudden reality of the prospect that you wouldn’t be able to feed whenever you wanted or sip on blood and wine all day.

You knew this would happen, of course, when you accepted Lae’zel’s quest.

But still, actually living it was different than knowing it was going to happen. There has been no real way to prepare yourself, so you do your best to gather your thoughts and stay focused. 

Cynthia wakes as you are helping Astarion with his complicated camp gear, which he insisted on wearing. He looked absolutely stunning in his black, fitted ensemble that boasts his gorgeous, muscular arms.

You went for something more simple, but more modest than the strappy camp clothes you arrived in.

If the gith warriors were to act like that around people of different races, then you felt it was up to you to change their perspective. But you wouldn’t let them gawk any longer. No, you would dominate and evolve their perspective of your race and vampires like yourself with your raw power, talent, and dark beauty. 

And, you say to yourself, wanting to continue this little pep talk, I will dominate my bloodlusts. 

“You look lovely, my lady,” Cynthia says to you genuinely, and you almost smile. 

“Thank you, sweet Cynthia,” She looks crestfallen at your reply, like a woman mad from her unrequited love. She dare not speak to Astarion directly, but you’re sure that she thinks him lovely as well.

You and Astarion walk to the War Room, down the twisting halls of the spire. Astarion takes your hand in his: he’s already thumbing a ring as you begin to share in the pit in his stomach. 

“Why are you nervous?”

“You shouldn’t worry about it.” Astarion would say no more, which you were ultimately fine with. He always told you about the important things.

The two of you make it on time, finding seats next to each other at the rounded table in the center of the room. You swear Astarion is puffing his chest out, his broad shoulders seemingly wider than usual.

Elan began the meeting, but you could hardly focus as Astarion’s hand was gripping yours. Elan speaks for a while before addressing the two of you. 

“Ancuíns, you will have the pleasure of meeting your warriors today…” Astarion’s pain begins to seep into you through your bond. Elan kept talking to the both of you, unaware of the inner turmoil. You’re now gripping Astarion’s hand back; he half-heartedly tries to tell you not to worry, but it’s hardly your fault.

“…the hunt. It is a tradition of this very crèche, and its boon will allow us to properly prepare for the beginning celebrations in the coming days.”

Astarion simply nods before the two of you meet each other's gaze simultaneously. The issues of the crèche fall away as the pain suddenly subsides.You see a flicker of wetness in Astarion’s eyes. Blinking it away before anyone else could notice, Astarion confirms what was just felt: “One of our spawn is dead.” 

The rendezvous went on for some time; Astarion kept his hand in yours, his fingers musing with your jewelry and your nails. 

“So refined. So beautiful.” Astarion is trying to decide what to do. He wasn’t scared, but a silent terror was building inside you. You tucked it away, imagining that’s what Astarion would do if he felt fear: you simply don’t. 

***

The gith warriors you were set to command stood before you: ten young women and men. All traditionally trained in the art of war.

“They are yours, Tav.”

You look to Lae’zel, and then to Astarion, who is standing before his own ten soldiers. Astarion considers them only for a moment before his mind shifts back to lewd thoughts of you: you, bent over just enough for him to see the sweet, pink folds of your inviting cunt and your tight ring of muscle. He loved the way your arousal smelled, and your scent in general, which was distinctly of him.

He was a part of your very essence, your very birth, and you knew your darling will always be part of you: he had connected the two of you in the most intimate way, and had never regretted it. You were his. Your future was his to decide, and there were only two rules that you were truly beholden to, with a few minor provisions, of course.

The words Astarion first heard so long ago ring out in your shared mind matter: thou shalt not leave my side, thou shalt know that thou art mine.

There was once a time where Astarion mocked Cazador for stealing Vellioth’s rules. 

“Tav, attention!” Lae’zel spats at you, breaking you out of your brief trance. You can tell a few of your warriors are trying not to smile. “They are expecting an introduction.”

Astarion is watching you, anticipating what you will say.

“I need not. They already know who I am.” You look away from Lae’zel, deciding to put on a cock show for your beloved. “Are there not statues of me throughout the realms? Famous poems, songs, smut?” You’re posing a bit, a seductive smile on your face as your vampiric charm graces the room: this was the easiest way to get them to obey. The more exposed to the charms the mortal is, the weaker they become. You and Astarion called this vampire insurance. 

Your warriors are young, already blushing from your charms.

“You are a natural, my love.”

“Tch. Insufferable.” Lae’zel leers, clearly well protected from your manipulations, prompting Astarion to commend her for trying to protect herself. He always found a way, if compulsion was required. “You agree to come here, to help me, and yet you refuse to take this seriously.” 

“It’s ten warriors, Lae’zel. My darling can manage just fine.” Astarion said confidently, because he knew you were more likely to eat them alive than anything else. 

“Just say something, Tav.” Lae’zel is practically begging you now. “Go on.”

“Alright,” You say with a sigh. You’re silent for a while. “I was never good at doing this formally. Uh, at ease, please.” You smile awkwardly at your little rhyme, but it doesn’t translate well on your terrifying face. 

You poke into the mind of the young lady standing in front of you. She’s scared of you, more so than she is of Vlaakith’s army. 

You take a deep breath, moving your fingers and toes as you try to animate yourself. “I’m sorry if I frighten you.” You weren’t all that sorry, because you liked it. But if Lae’zel wanted you to take this seriously, then you needed to level with them, to know them and be a team. 

You realize that has never really left you: that natural leader within. 

“You can call me Tav. Lae’zel will insist on Sarth Ancunín, which sounds awful to me. My husband,” You look over to your gorgeous darling standing next to you, a smile on his pretty face as he gives you his undivided attention, which you loved. “Will likely insist on calling me Lady Ancunín, at the very least. But I insist you call me Tav.”

The warriors visibly relax, but you still sense their lingering fear. 

You breathe again, and also remember to blink. “We are to participate in the hunt today. I, uh, welcome any comments or questions you may have.”

“Tav,” A boy speaks from the back, behind the still trembling young lady at the front. “I am Zii’ro. They say you are thousands of years old.”

“Yes. I am.” 

Zii’ro stifles a smile. You can sense he has questions, which you aren’t opposed to answering, but the look he was getting from Lae’zel ensured he kept his mouth shut. 

They look so young.

“They don’t appear any older than you, my love,” Astarion muses, the thought bringing you a fair amount of pleasure. Who wouldn’t want to be young and beautiful forever?

Astarion is so glad you agree. 

“Ah. No wonder so many of the gith think that I’m just your young little plaything instead of your wife.” You respond to your husband; Astarion looked nearly fifteen, maybe twenty, years your senior, a fact he did not like upon first realizing. 

You had forgotten just how young you were when he turned you. 

“It wasn’t long after your coming of age year, my love.” Astarion spoke, answering the question that was on everyone’s mind. 

Lae’zel snorts. “Practically an eternal teenager.” 

“We’re all adults here, Lae’zel. Including these little warriors,” Astarion sweeps his eyes over the twenty gith standing before you. “Don’t be fooled by her appearance. My darling is an ancient vampire. The two hundred years between us hardly mean a thing, anymore.” Astarion has a big, menacing smile on his face. 

“Nothing could ever stand against us, Tav.”

It wasn’t until Lae’zel told you that the two of you would be separated when you started to feel a silent panic. Lae’zel wanted you to leave his side, to command your soldiers alone, to see your capabilities in the field. 

Astarion immediately begins to protest. He quickly becomes angry with Lae’zel for even suggesting that he’d ever leave his consort alone on a strange continent with even stranger people. 

“This is out of the question!” Astarion sneered. “You’ve not known me recently, Lae’zel, but do you really think I would be okay with this? Abandoning my wife?”

“It would hardly be abandonment, Astarion. The man I once knew was one who would’ve let Tav choose for herself.” Lae’zel crossed her arms, her gait wide, relaxed. She wasn’t afraid of Astarion: not in her domain, anyways. 

Astarion really doesn’t like this. His eyes narrow, his stare intense as he tries to unnerve the gith woman.

But Lae’zel is looking to you. As they’ve been arguing, you’ve been squaring yourself with having to actually leave Astaron’s side. You’re scared, but you remember why you’re here. 

Fear never stopped me before, you think to yourself before directing your thoughts to your pale lover. “Is this not the very reason why we have our connection, Astarion?”

The two of you have now blocked out all others: any notion of the outside world has been lost to you. Locked in an intense stare, you can only wonder what the two of you looked like to mortals. 

You go back and forth. Someone gasps when the two of you show fang at one another.

“You’re my wife. You do as I say. I know you’re strong, darling, but we can't risk it. I won’t allow that much distance between us. We’ve never been so far apart.” Astarion’s excuses were endless. You never realized how quickly Astarion’s mind would jump to isolating you in the boudoir whenever there was a disagreement between the two of you.

You hadn’t ever argued this much before. 

You hiss, but Astarion has an intense look in his eyes, nearly making you cower. But you don’t back down. After what feels like a lifetime to the mortals, Astarion comes to a decision.

“You will take Ruth with you.” Astarion says, frustrated by his lack of control of the situation. He’s trying to brush it off, but it’s hard for him. Between this, and the death of the spawn that he was decidedly ignoring, Astarion was doing his best to keep it together. 

You tried to comfort him, to go to him and wrap your arms around him, but now was hardly the time. 

“Just come back in one piece.” Astarion’s voice is as intense as his stare.

***

The enchanted forest was ethereally dark, beautiful and scary; nonetheless, your warriors followed you into the thicket. It took you a while of hiking before you could see the crèche in its glorious entirety.

The Crystalline Spire was far more gorgeous than what you or Astarion could have imagined. Jutting from the ground, the crystal stood straight from the ground, the outside of its walls smooth and milky. It glittered and towered far beyond what even seemed natural, only adding to its ethereal nature. 

“It could almost hold a flame to you, my consort.” 

“It is breathtaking.” You say. 

“We take great pride in its beauty,” Zii’ro replied from behind you. When you turned around, your group was admiring you, admiring the spire. 

You could sense Astarion was already on the hunt: his senses greater than yours, he had a wider radius and quicker reflexes. But you aren’t so inferior to the Vampire Ascendant: you were a formidable vampire yourself.

Your senses perk up: you hear the rustling of the leaves, the faint beat of a heart, and you zip away faster than your warriors could keep up. Ruth stayed close, silently lingering behind you, eyes never leaving you.

“Hey!” You hear, already in the distance, one of them calling out to you. Shit. You had to go back. 

“We’re supposed to do this together,” Zii’ro explained. 

Chae shook her head. “We can’t even hear what she’s running for.”

“Oh,” You say, having to stew on this for a little. “Well, follow me then. I’ll go slow, so you can keep up.” 

They follow, and you take them running through the thicket. You can hear the rise of their heartbeats, unable to really become a plateau from a brisk jog; the forest was untamed, the ground having no clear path, and you were practically jumping.

You consider taking your bat form, but that would be against the spirit of the game. You think Astarion has done this, or something similar; because if this was a contest (you weren’t even sure, you hadn’t listened or asked, realizing maybe your lack of attention was becoming a problem) Astarion was going to win.

Maybe he’d let you win, if he was feeling generous. But you decide you’re determined to get something more out of this than a win. 

That light in you still remembers.

It wasn’t until you came upon your prey that your human mind, your conscious mind, was forgotten: gone is any pretense that you’re anything but a vampire. A monster. A natural hunter in the night.

One of your archers, Quinel, draws the first blood.

You feel yourself slip away, but it happens so quickly it makes you writhe with frustration. Your warriors engage with the monster: its large, snake-like body towered over you. You notice it has feathers, despite its reptilian appearance. 

You claw, you bite, thick hot blood dripping down your chin and neck, but the monster doesn’t go down. It bites at Chae, who drops her weapon with a yelp, crying as she realizes she’s stuck in its jaws. 

The fear on her face makes you want to devour her next, but something about her reminds you of an old friend, an old lover, Lae’zel, and it brings you back to reality just enough to grab onto the monster's jaws.

Each hand is jutting into the teeth of the monster, your blood flowing freely in its mouth, but you don’t care; you’ll heal almost instantaneously, anyways. 

The monster is strong but no match for your determined strength. After a moment of you using your might, the monster's jaw is wretched apart, cracking at the joints as the monster howls in pain. 

Zii’ro has plunged his sword into the mouth of the creature as Chae is pulled out of its jaws. One last yelp of life is screeched from its stinking maw before it hits the ground. 

You already hear another beast, and you’re back in the hunt, ready for more.

***

You couldn’t begin to tell Astarion and Lae’zel what the hell happened on your hunt. But you return to the spire drunk, drenched in animal blood, having gorged yourself on a variety of wildlife. The hot, sticky crimson wasn’t nearly as delicious as intelligent blood, but there was a lot of it, which you are a fan of. It drenched your leathers, your throat and jaw, even your hair.  

Astarion, standing at the entrance to the spire, looked immaculate as he narrowed his eyes at you. But you can only laugh at his handsome, pouty face.

Your warriors followed you, equally covered in blood and guts. They prattle and grunt behind you, Chae hobbling along despite her injuries. You were too incapacitated to focus on what they were thinking: but half of them looked rather amused, and the other half looked angry. 

You looked around yourself, realizing you didn’t even have a weapon on you. Shit. You must have abandoned it during your frenzy.

Astarion is immediately scanning your memories, your brain, having preoccupied himself during the hunt. Looking over to where his warriors are at, you realize they brought back several animals, and your team had none.

“You clearly enjoyed your hunt. Have you not brought back any game?” Lae’zel asks tentatively. You are hardly listening to her, because you’re focused on your ambivalent husband.

You could feel his upset. You tried to weave through it, but you are still caught up in your bloodlust. You giggle when he takes you by the arms and pulls you into him, studying your face as he closes in on you.

“Don’t be mad, my darling.”

“Don’t be mad,” You repeat aloud, giving him a little smile to try to butter him up.

It wasn’t until Lae’zel and the other soldiers were out of hearing distance that Astarion spoke.

“Well…you’ve ruined that darling outfit I bought you,” He says, his voice low.  

Astarion is deciding how to react to this: he doesn’t like it, but it doesn’t necessarily break any of his rules, and he thought you looked rather beautiful covered in blood. 

But he decidedly did not like you drinking animal blood. “Come, my wife. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

***

Astarion remembers you just a few days after the defeat of the Netherbrain: writhing beneath him, utterly breathless and beautiful, even dizzy, from all the orgasms he had given you. You had fought him, only a little, before submitting and allowing him to ravish you again.

He wanted you all to himself for a little bit, before all the work began: the two of you were going on day two of the indeterminate amount of time Astarion decided you would stay at the hotel in the Upper City. 

You were worried about him, which he thought was rather sweet. You were also a little afraid of him, which turned him on even more than he anticipated. 

The fucking was instinctual, animalistic. When Raphael had told him the ‘appetites of man’ would return to him, he couldn’t have ever imagined how desperate his cock would be for you.

With the tadpole gone, Astarion’s powers were growing dramatically. His body was changing, his strength increasing, his entire state of mind and being was changing.

He made you a part of him, now. You were his, he was yours, and he needn’t be ashamed of pleasuring himself and his darling. He could nestle himself in your body and mind, and know that it was just the two of you: him and the only person he ever loved. The thoughts of disgust and loathing were kept at bay, only when he was with you. Only you.

Astarion had you in a mating press, pushing your thighs back as far as they’d go. He had already come inside you once, and he watched as his thick white come billowed out of you. 

The sight was delicious.

“This is amazing,” Astarion had laughed, pushing his cock into you deeply, hips banging against pelvis. His tip kissed your cervix, which is exactly where he wanted to be: as deeply nestled within you as he possibly could. “It’s never felt this fucking good before!” 

You whined and mewled beneath him, begging him to both stop and continue your torturous pleasure. But if you didn’t know what you wanted, Astarion would decide for you. 

“Haha! I can’t believe this is all mine!” Astarion hadn’t been able to contain his excitement. When you flutter your sweet cunt around him, Astarion plants a confident kiss to your lips, bringing his hand down to idly play with your swollen nub. 

“The palace, the wealth, the power, even you. All mine.” 

Astarion tightens his grip on your neck as he bites down on your shoulder. He doesn’t ask, because he doesn’t need to, and he wants it to hurt.

When you yelp at the pain of his bite, before descending into moans, it makes his cock feel so filled with blood that he only wished he could devour you further; to make you his all over again. It had been the best fucking godsdamned feeling in the world, turning you into a vampire.

As he felt the mind numbing effects of his impending orgasm, his thrusts becoming uneven and sloppy, Astarion concluded that this was the best place to train you. You’d be an obedient little wife if he kept you fucked out and full of his cock; he just knew it. It was what was best for you, anyways.

He repositions you, lifting your hips up on his thighs, where he starts to rut into you: it’s too deep, it’s too much, and he knows it. 

You start to push him away, trying to close your thighs to prevent his intrusion. 

“Oh, my love,” Astarion muses, capturing your wrists with one hand, using his other to force your thighs open. 

“Please…“ You had begged—but in your mind, you told him to give it to you. You wanted all of him, and Astarion loved this so much, his heart swelled to proportions previously unknown to him, and he was a man maddened with lust, with love, for his sweet wife. 

And there was something about making his sweet wife, the strong leader of the group, so submissive and needy for him…

With that, Astarion’s powerful mind flits to another memory; he would never forget your face when he asked you to kneel for him in front of the others. 

A guilt fills Astarion’s chest, a feeling he was no stranger to, but it pissed him off. He hadn’t initially thought of it as humiliation, and had been surprised when you told him why you had stopped asking him for kisses in public. 

You were so delicate, so beautiful, and it was both the reason why he was desperate to protect you and keep you by his side, and why he wanted to dominate you.

He’d especially never forget how you looked when you obeyed. He was so happy.

Now, seeing his consort covered in the blood of lesser creatures, he couldn’t ignore the shifting visions of the past that flit across his mind. 

He decides the best punishment for you was to stretch you out with his cock and take his pleasure in you, just as he had decided two thousand years ago. He plans to leave you breathless and desperate with no intention of making you come.

He imagines withholding your orgasm from you, leaving you covered in his slick seed. Yes, my consort hates being denied. He’d command you to push his semen back inside your wet, sloppy entrance, pleasuring yourself while coated in his essence. 

He knew he probably wouldn’t be able to go through with it. He loved making you come too much, but he certainly enjoyed the thought.

Astarion scrubs your skin with the washcloth, the flakes of dried blood stubborn even with hot water and soap. “What am I to do with you, my love?”

“I tried. I participated. I tried to be what they wanted.” Astarion senses your hurt, your confusion. 

He brings a hand to your jaw, drawing you to face him. Astarion sighs before he speaks, giving you a little smile. “It’s alright, love. I don’t like it, but I’m not angry with you. It’s only your nature.” 

Astarion sighs when you smile, relief washing over him as the fog of your upset dissipates from his assuring words. Once you’re clean, Astarion is next, and soon, the two of you are wrapped up in each other once more, taking the opportunity to adore each other after a long day. 

Astarion wants you to be quiet, even when he finally slides his swollen, needy cock inside you. You’re so perfect, Astarion wants to stay here forever, just like this with you.

He keeps his cock in you for a while as he captures your lips with his own. 

“You are my everything.”

Masterlist

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

[neteyamslovrr]

WRONG TO WANT YOU - PT 3

summary: ever since you stepped foot onto the land of his clan he couldn't help but feel drawn to you. everything about you he craved. but he couldn't have you. not while his son called you his.

contents: violence, swearing, suggestive stuff 16+, age gap, fem!sullyreader

authors note: part three!! we have finally got them!!! lowkey a filler but it IS VERY IMPORTANT

(reader is 21 and tonowari is around 40. when they came to the clan she was 20 so they've only been there a year!! all characters aged up)

previous / next

Ao’nung’s face screwed up in confusion. Fists tight as he loomed over you. His frame was still taller than you, intimidating the way he seethed.

“What did you just say?” His tone was sharp and rough. As if his words were piercing daggers through your skin.

“Nothing.” You whispered out. Avoiding eye contact with Ao’nung at all costs. You wouldn’t dare look into the eyes of that angry beast.

“No, no. Speak up.” He chuckled darkly, his fingers roughly holding your chin so that you were forced to stare into his crazed eyes. “You dare speak about my father?! Have you gone mad, little forest freak?”

“I didn’t. Let go of me.” A rough his erupts out of his throat as he holds you tighter. His hand squishing your face together so he could scoff at your stupid look. Fingers digging into your cheeks forming bruises under them.

He moved your face around with ease. “No. You did. You little bitch, never talk about my father again. You hear me?” He hissed, leaving spit in your face in the most degrading way possible.

You said nothing but a little whimper leaving your mouth. It was pathetic how terrified you were right now. To think the man holding you like this right now was once a man you trusted, one you loved.

“Do. You. Hear. Me?!” Ao’nung shouted ears flat against his skull, baring his teeth in your face.

“Yes! I’m sorry!” You cried out tears falling down your bruised cheeks. The mark on Ao’nung’s face was nothing compared to the dark purple and black marks now on you.

Ao’nung scoffed and threw you to the ground. Harshly, you plummeted to the harsh sand, landing on rough shells that left stinging cuts on your thighs. “Demons like you should never have been allowed here.” He spat once again. Kicking sand before he left with a stomp.

It was as if you could feel nothing and everything at the same time. The pain across your body thumped beneath you skin as you just stared. Not a sob, no more tear drops. You were frozen.

Getting up was painful. Blood dripping down your legs as you rubbed your cheeks to try and soothe some of the pain. You weren’t thinking as you walked, hiding away from the village. Taking a route you knew no one else could see you.

Your face had unfrozen now, as tears rolled down your cheek like a majestic waterfall. Soft whimpers every couple steps as the pain from the cuts ran through your entire body. You were tired, wanted nothing more than to collapse into your bed and sob.

“What has happened?!” The loud voice brought you out of your distracted state.

Tonowari rushed over to his front door where you stood battered and bruised. His heart thumped with his protective instincts. He was immediately there examining your injuries. “Great mother…what happened to you?”

You barely even realised you were at the chiefs marui. Shivering in the cool night air as you sniffled away the snot that ran down your face. Looking up to see Tonowari’s wide eyes, boring into you with nothing but love and worry.

It made you want to sob. Because just before those eyes. Eyes that looked so similar had stared at you with nothing but contempt. So when soft whimpers and tears flowed down your cheeks once again, Tonowari gasped and immediately brought you into his home. Sitting you down on the cot you had woke up in that morning.

All worry about being too close to you was replaced with worry for you. He sat down next to you, a soothing hand on your shoulder as he watched you sob. “My sweet pearl…please tell me what is going on?”

You shook your head softly, only being able to scoot closer to Tonowari. He pulled you close. His muscular arms securing you in his lap as you cried into his chest. His heart ached seeing you like this. So upset, and he could still see the bleeding wounds on you. “Please…” He whispered slowly patting down your hair.

You sniffled hugging him close. All shame you had being this close to him erased. He was your one sense of comfort in this moment. Feeling safe in his embrace. “Nothing…it…it hurts ‘Wari”

He couldn’t deny how his heart fluttered slightly as you called him by a nickname. But not enough to make the sinking feeling in his chest go away as you whimpered in his embrace. This wasn’t the type of whimpering he wanted you to do.

“Shh…it’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” He brought you close, stopping himself from leaving a kiss on your forehead. “Tell me where it hurts okay? Then I’ll fix it.”

You nodded, pointing down at the dripping crimson on your leg. That had smeared against both you and Tonowari’s thighs. “A shell…cut me”

Tonowari squinted his eyes. “Is that right? Just a shell?” Tonowari had his suspicions, but he wouldn’t try and get anything out of you. Not in this state. He did however wish he knew what had happened, but that was just pure curiosity and concern.

“Mhm.” You mumbled out looking aware from his stare. Being so close made you feel bubbly inside. Even if Ao’nung had just burst all of them. It didn’t feel wrong like you thought it would have been.

Tonowari was gentle with his touches. Sliding out from under you so that he could stand above and examine your leg. His soft yet huge hands spread your legs apart as you hissed at the sting of the cut.

If it weren’t for the pain you were in, this compromising position would have you blushing like crazy. However, Tonowari was incredible aware of where he was touching you. How you were laying back on your elbows, head flung back as you hissed in pain.

He couldn’t deny the fact that the more he ‘examined’ the cut it was just so he could trace your inner thighs for a bit longer before he got to carried away. “This is deep pearl, how did you manage such a wound.”

Tonowari was slowly putting medicinal paste on your leg, but you only whimpered at the memory of Ao’nung shoving you to the ground. “I fell” Was all you could muster out.

“Hm, you’re a clumsy little one.” Tonowari said chuckling hiding his suspicion. He could see the bruises on your face, he saw the pained look in your eyes. He wasn’t an idiot.  

Tonowari continued to patch all of the shell cuts on your thighs. His large hands occasionally lingering too long on one spot.

“It is getting late. Should I walk you home?” Tonowari asked. Though he wanted nothing more than to keep you in his hut. He would always offer.

You sat there and pondered. Looking at the large man in front of you. You didn’t want to leave yet. You couldn’t bare being alone as the memories of your prior…confrontation lingered loudly in your mind.

“Do I have to go?” You said softly, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes.

Tonowari frowned shaking his head. “Of course you don’t have to pearl.” He whispered sitting in bed next to you. The both of you getting back into the position of you situated comfortably in his lap. “Would you like to lay down?”

“Wanna be here” You’d mumble into his chest. He rumbled and laid back onto the bedhead of his cot and let his hands tilt your face back so he could see you.

You flinched slightly from the previous bruises, but he was so gentle so tender. He noticed you flinch, he kept that in mind. “You can stay here as long as you like.” He whispered, his thumb caressing your cheek.

You melted into his touch, not being able to tear yourself away from his eyes now. You felt his hands start to move. So that his thumb started to play with your bottom lip, moving it slowly along the smooth surface.

Your breath was ridged against his fingers. He couldn’t stop himself. You were so small, so soft in his arms. His other hand wrapped around your waist, squeezing it gently.

“Wari…” You said breathily, hands laying on his chest.

“Yes? What is it?” He was alert. Staring you right in the eyes. Hands still lingering.

“…I want you…” It was a soft confession. One that you had to build up the courage for.

“Me?” He was surprised…was this wrong? What father would he be? But you were so beautiful, so gorgeous in his arms.

“Please.” It was a desperate whisper. Eywa you could cry if you didn’t feel more of him on you. You were desperate and hurting. And he was desperate and nothing but loving.

“Shh…its okay beautiful. I’m here.” It wasn’t long till he let his hands roam on your body, laying you down onto the plush mattress.

“Wari…please” You whimpered out as his hands ghosted your waist. Bringing you closer to him. You didn’t even know what you were begging for. You just needed him.

“I’m here my sweetness…shh its okay.” He peppered kisses down your chest and up your neck. His mind was foggy. He knew he’d regret this in the morning. Or maybe he wouldn’t. He didn’t care right now. He just wanted you to feel good. Needed you to feel good. “Look at me.” He whispered softly.

You looked up to meet his blue eyes as he smiled down at you. Soft kisses left on the bruises on his face. If only he knew he was kissing away the pain that his son inflicted.

plz tell me what u think lolol, reblogs super duper appreciated!!!!!!!!!!

tags: @avatarkv@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@cyberfreaky@cinetrix@supercoolusernamesblog@gabrijelasworld @rebeccao03@sakura-onesan@neteyamsluvts @reinap06@totesnothere04 @imakms @thaliathewriter @rengokusmyboy @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @whereireid @laylasbunbunny

everything taglist: @8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox @darkacademictrash @scntfrhs @dreamyescapesfromreality @fanboyluvr @neteyamzmate @neteyamyawne @neteyamssbaby

[tea-plantz]

could i rq general headcanons of yandere bill cipher? :-) have a wonderful day btw!!

Dude Bill is literally my fav Gravity Falls character, anyways here you go and thank you for the request!

They/them for the reader

!tw: mention of blood, violence, kidnapping, torture and typical yandere stuff, spoilers!

<Yandere Bill Cipher x Reader HCS>

Ok so first of all, Bill first stumbled upon you in a small, weird town called Gravity Falls.

You were walking around in the forest, looking at trees, picking up rocks, simply enjoying a warm summer day in the bizarre town.

Bill can’t really explain why, but you strangely seemed to have caught his attention, as he continued to watch you from afar.

You seemed rather interesting and Bill didn’t exactly have anything better to do than to follow this eye catching h/c human around.

———————————————————

After that little incident, Bill couldn’t get his mind off of you. He didn’t understand why though, you were just a mere human after all, and he was a literal demon! But there was just something special about your aroma, like you were pulling him in somehow. You just seemed so different, unique, pretty… weird huh?

Bill decided that he needed to know more about you, so that’s exactly what he did! For a few months he continued to stalk keep an eye on you, gathering some information about yourself. Nothing wrong with that, right? He was just looking out for you.

Over time, Bill’s obsession with you started to grow, and not in an healthy way. He found himself craving to talk to you, to make you smile and to kiss you…(how that works, I do not know:P)

The triangle finally decided that enough was enough. He NEEDED to have you.

After a little thinking, Bill decided that the most appropriate way to go about this would be to try and make a deal with you. It’s his specialty after all!

So one morning you woke up to find a… dorito person?? floating right above your head, staring straight at you. Had that thing… had it been watching you sleep?!

“Greetings, my lovely little muse!” The yellow thing said, while bowing down and tilting it’s hat in a formal way. “How are you, Y/n, doing on this beautiful morning? Would you like some rabbit teeth-“ “AAAAAAAAAAH”

Bill desperately tried to calm you down and tell you that he meant no harm. After a bit of a struggle, you finally calmed down and listened to what he had to say.

The demon offered you a deal that honestly seemed too good to be true. You would get whatever you wished for, and all he needed in return was just a small, little favor! Whether you choose to expected this deal or not is completely up to you.

If you expect, he would be thrilled! “Great! Just great, my little friend! Now, my dear, I just need an itsy bitsy little thing from you… you!”

If you declined, however, he would just have to resort to more drastic measures to get what he desires. Either way you’re coming with him, whether you like it or not.

——————————————————————————

Now that Bill finally has you, I feel like he’s actually going to treat you pretty decent! He’s a gentleman you know, and he knows how to treat you right.

He has a romantic side, constantly giving you gifts, telling you how precious you are, and he even plays the piano for you!

Don’t be fooled though, if you do get on his bad side he won’t hesitate to punish you.

Bill can be a bit of a sadist and his punishments are usually cruel and inhumane. However, I don’t think he’s gonna hurt you physically, like cutting limbs or torture, no. I feel like Bill, being the bizarre creature he is, is probably going to punish you by for example turning you’re legs into chicken legs! Basically anything strange or abnormal that would cause you distress. He probably enjoys it as well, seeing the look on your face as you scream and run around the room. “You’re gonna have to run faster then that toots! Ahahaha!”

The dorito man probably wouldn’t chain you up or something, unless he has to. He’ll let you walk around freely in his weird dimension, moreover, you probably wouldn’t even dare to try and escape either way , since Bill has stated various threats, and made it crystal clear that he or other creatures in his dimension will hurt you, or people you care about (y’know like in the show, with Dipper and Mabel? The “ini mini miny YOU” scene) if you leave him for too long.

When it comes to jealousy, I don’t think Bill would get that jealous, honestly. He knows you’re his, plus you wouldn’t really be able to leave anyway. Although, if anyone did look at you the wrong way, well… let’s just say he won’t hesitate to kill for you. The triangle would sometimes even bring you present to remind you that you belong to him and him alone, although the gifts could sometimes be a bit gory, if you get what I’m saying. Bill would someday want to rule over the galaxy, with you by his side. That’s his ultimate goal and fantasy.

I don’t really think this is the worst situation to get stuck in, I mean come on! He can literally get you whatever you want, just as long as you love him! With just a few dark moments here and there, I think Bill would actually be a pretty good significant other, even though he can be a bit possessive.

[melonba11s]

This Is You On Drugs (Strade/MC BTD fanfic)

Strade doesn’t like drugs because they can change the way someone acts… But what if he shows them later how they acted?

Contains: Drugging, Filmed Violence, Canon typical violence, blunt force mutilation, gore gender neutral MC, Strade.

Food and drink in Strades house were safe. Strade wasn’t the type to poison people, it was too quick and didn’t give him time to see any reactions he craved.

Drugs would change or inhibit how you reacted too much. He wanted you to be yourself. A true king of encouraging self love and confidence.

So food and drink was safe. Water from the filtered jug in the fridge was safe. The cheese was safe. The cut up bits of steak were safe.

You had no reason to not eat in his house. If you tried to starve yourself he’d eventually force you to eat.

So when you woke up in the middle of the afternoon with a pounding headache, dry mouth, and chronic dizziness you just had to believe you were sick.

You had to be really sick. That was why you couldn’t remember falling asleep in the first place, or even waking up in the morning. You must have slept through the night and well into the day.

Getting up was hard. Your legs felt like cement. But you needed water. Your mouth was so dry.

Stumbling down the hallway, groaning in pain the entire way. It felt like your head was detached from your body, floating on its own towards the kitchen.

The light of everything was too much. You were forced to shield your eyes just to make it to the kitchen, squinting so much your eyes were almost closed.

Actually closing your eyes as you opened the fridge as the cold air hit your face, along with the fluorescent bulb’s shine feeling more like a needle to your skull.

Reaching in, blind, but knowing where that water was, you curled your fingers around the plastic handle.

“Don’t drink that.” A sudden voice, the fridge was closed forcefully. You looked up at Strade, he had a smile on his face… Like he was in on some joke you didn’t get. You rubbed your eyes, frowning.

“I’m thirsty.” you said, a fact made obvious by how dry your voice sounded. A chuckle, and he was pressing something cold into your hands.

You looked down. Bottled water. He never bought bottled water. That’s what the filter on the jug was for.

You didn’t ask questions, you cracked it open and began to chug it. You had been really thirsty. You felt better with every gulp of water.

Strade kept his eyes on you, his grin widening the entire time.

“Feeling better?” he asked, as you finished off the bottle. You nodded.

“Head still hurts… I think I’m sick.” an arm around your shoulders,

“Bet you need some rest then, huh? Come on, sit on the couch with me. You can relax there while I show you something…” He was pushing you towards the living room, still grinning widely.

“Strade…” your voice came out in a whine. “Can’t you show me later? I’m tired…” nothing sounded better than crawling back into bed, maybe with another bottle of water or two.

“Oh come on, Schatzi.” He sounded almost hurt. “This won’t take long!”

You sighed, giving up. Nothing would convince him otherwise when he got pushy like this.

He was admittedly gentle with you, guiding you to the couch, sitting you down against the throw pillows after making sure he fluffed them up a bit.

The TV was on, but for now the screen was black. Strade got comfortable next to you, arm around you again, leaning against you. Despite how terrifying he was, his solid warm form was a comfort you indulged in without restraint. Loving how soft and comfortable it felt to be nestled against him.

He lifted the remote, and pressed play. The screen fizzled a bit, then the picture became clear.

The basement. You jerked in his grip. One of his homemade films.

You definitely couldn’t handle this kind of thing right now.

“Strade-“ You began to protest.

“Hush. Just watch.” he shushed you, smiling at the screen.

A woman was on the ground, slumped against the pole. The camera moved towards her, accompanied by footsteps. It hit you that Strade was actually holding the camera. He usually had it up on a tripod-

“Okay Schatzi! Are you ready?”

You couldn’t recognize the voice responding at first.

“Yeeeaaaahhhh” They dragged out the word, ending it with a bit of a giggle. “You sound like… an ant.” The camera moved over.

It was you. You were wavering on the spot, eyes unfocused. A silly smile plastered on your face.

“What?” the you that was sitting on the couch began to speak. No, that couldn’t be you. You would never stand like that, talk like that, hold a giant sledgehammer like that.

The woman on the floor was beginning to beg, scream, writhe in place.

The Strade behind the camera began to laugh, backing up a bit.

“Go ahead then! Just like I told you! It’s just a fun game, like the ones you play with Ren.”

You sat in fear, disbelief, as you lifted the sledgehammer and began to approach the woman on the floor.

“No.” You said as you began to lift the hammer up. The you on film didn’t hear you, or maybe they just didn’t care.

You could only watch in horror as the hammer came down.

Ankle shattering, skin ripping apart. No. You shouldn’t be strong enough to do that much damage. As the woman on the floor let out an ear piercing scream, blood splattering across the floor, staring at her mangled foot in horror.

“Stop!” You yelled, trying to get up, to turn off the TV. Strade kept a grip on you, his spare hand was unbuckling his belt.

“Don’t be like this, Schatzi.” His voice was in your ear. “You looked so happy, it was almost worth the price of the drugs.”

Drugs. Drugs that he hated. It made you stiff with fear.

Drugs that had altared you, made you not yourself. The kind of thing he never wanted.

You could only watch as the you that was apparently hopped up on some horrid mix began to lift the hammer again.

Kneecap was next, the sound of bone splintering, skin turning into ground beef, your stupid fucking voice continuing to giggle.

“That’s… funny…” The you on camera knelt down, shoving your fingers into the freshly destroyed leg. How easily they slid into the torn tendons and pulverized muscle.

You pulled out a shard of something. The gross sound of wet suction and the woman’s breath hitching between her screams made you want to vomit.

“Uh oh…” You sounded like a complete dunce, looking at the shard of bone in your hand. “I broke it…”

You seemed to be referring to the piece of patella in your palm, staring at it. You dropped it onto the floor, now looking at the camera (or perhaps Strade?) in dissapointed.

“I wanted… Something to give you.” The woman at your feet was breathing heavily. Strade was laughing.

“It’s okay, Schatzi. You’ve given me so much already.” He was cooing, and you hated how it made your slack face light up in a grin.

The woman on the ground seemed to find her voice now.

“YOU’RE A MONSTER.” She wasn’t looking at Strade. She was looking at you.

She was right.

“A SICK FUCK.” Your smile had dropped now, using the hand that wasn’t on the hammer to cover an ear. It made your heart pound, watching this.

The you on camera shaking your head as she continued to yell insults at you. It was comforting, knowing that even while not in your right state, you didn’t want to be called those things-

“SHUT UP.” The drugs were speaking. They had to be. “YOU’RE GIVING ME A HEADACHE.”

No, the drugs were. Realize that. You were begging yourself to realize that as the hammer rose again. The woman was still yelling.

“STOP.” The both of you yelled at the same time. You were frozen in place, but they weren’t. The hammer swung down.

Wet thump, horrid cracking, teeth coming loose. A scream of pain turning into a wet gargle as blood and muscle filled her throat.

Another swing, an eyeball popping open, the inside oozing all over her face as her skull caved in. There were no more screams.

Another swing. Brain exposed, flying from the safety of the cranium, hitting the wall and floor.

You were breathing heavily as you dropped the hammer. Legs shaking, hands twitching, you were looking down at yourself in horror.

“Oh no…” The you on camera said, before looking back at Strade. “I got… really dirty.”

Your front caked in shards of bone, blood, bits of gore and more. You doubled over on the couch, retching.

Strade was laughing next to you, laughing on camera. It echoed and bounced, it was everywhere.

You were dirty. You were filthy. You were diseased.

Strade had turned off the TV as you sat there, rocking back and forth, gagging and trying not to vomit.

“You put on a good show, Schatzi!” He sounded genuine, rubbing your back.

And you hated how it made you feel just a bit better right now.

[eclipsejynx-writes]

Kist Day 2024 - Cigarette Break.

I, personally, hate to brag, but I wrote 7 pages (if you put it on Google docs).

i'm not really obsessed with this, I don't like how their personalities came out, but then again I knew about Kist day literally yesterday at 7pm so- enjoy!

This is also my first writing on this blog, so yippee!^^

Summary - Dust and Killer never got along together. So when they both wake up in the middle of the night and run into each other, the have a cigarette break. However, will either of them reveal why they were up?

TW - Killer x Dust, cigarettes / smoking, hallucinations (Dust's Papyrus), bloodlust / L.V. high, mentions of attempted murder, g a y

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Killer and Dust were two sides of the same coin; Dust was calm and quiet, never speaking too much, always caught up in his head. He was never caught twice slacking in his work, because though he may hide it well, he was always wary of those around him. Killer was loud, never thinking twice about what he said or did. It was safe to say he was arrogant with his spot as Nightmare’s right-hand after Cross left. He was never concerned about his actions’ consequences. Of course, that led to ‘punishments’ from Nightmare, but he never learned his lesson.

It was late at night, around four in the morning, when Dust woke up from a restless slumber. The voices he heard were more violence-craved than usual, causing him to panic and wake up in distress. It wasn’t anything unusual compared to the countless times he woke up with his magic on with summoned bones. He remembered one specific day vividly. He summoned bones in his sleep that attacked a wall and damaged most of his room. Killer and Horror rushed in and he almost killed them with a gaster blaster. Nightmare came just before it hit them and made a wall to protect them. Nightmare focused his energy towards Dust, or so he’d been told, to divert the negativity away from him to feed off. He remembered waking up in a panic and jolting up from his bed, only to be met with Nightmare scolding him for waking up everyone. He didn’t care too much about the insults, the yelling, or the punishment for not eating for a week and gaining the harder missions. What truly pissed him off was the grin Killer was wearing the whole time while he saw him being chastised. He clenched his fists while glaring, but Killer’s smirk just widened at the sight. It was clear he enjoyed the scenario in front of him, and he didn’t give a damn that Dust was in trouble. He wished Nightmare didn’t block the gaster blaster from Killer’s stupid target soul. That was the day when he declared he officially hated Killer.

His footsteps patted against the wooden staircase as he descended from the third floor to the second. When Nightmare first recruited him, he was easily lost through the twisted labyrinth of the castle. He remembers when he first met Killer outside of Nightmare, he was aimlessly walking around the castle, trying to get a feel of the layout. Killer approached him and, without warning, started teasing his clothing, saying he looked just like Sans. It ticked him off, and Killer could tell. Did that make him stop? No. If anything, Killer just got more persistent. When Dust didn’t react to the insults as much, Killer randomly threw a knife towards him. A fight broke out until Nightmare came and separated them. The whole situation just made his hatred for him grow.

Thinking about Killer made Dust more stressed. It always bothered him how nonchalant Killer was about the whole situation. He took his hood and pulled it further down his head, feeling self-conscious about his face, his identity. He was never comfortable knowing those other versions of himself, so carefree and happy, could’ve been him.

‘Feeling down, Sans?’ Dust sighed at the familiar voice.

“Go away, Papy. I can’t right now,” Dust said deeply, determined to ignore the voices and their pleas for bloodlust.

‘But Sans,’ complained Papyrus, his bodiless figure swirling around Dust, ‘I feel that you feel what I feel! I know you feel the urge-’

“No is no. It’s late.” Dust pushed himself forward, forcing himself to drown out his decapitated brother’s head.

His brother was pissed off. ‘Sans! Now isn’t the time to joke around you lazy skeleton! You’re L.V. is rising, I know it!’ Sans Dust didn’t respond. ‘Who knows?’ Papyrus said, getting closer to Dust’s face. ‘Maybe you could just kill some of your friends-’

“Not my friends,” Dust interrupted again, turning away from his dead brother. “They’re my… teammates, I guess.” Papyrus sighed, floating beside his brother as they stalked the corridors.

The walls were an ashy gray, giving the illusion of being trapped in a void. The only light source was the full Moon shining light through the giant windows on the walls. Dust tried to ignore Papyrus’s nagging by focusing on the other sounds and sights in the castle. However, it was painfully quiet tonight, and nothing interesting in the castle beside him and his brother’s head.

‘It’s pathetic,’ said Papyrus, continuing with his speech. ‘You’ve worked here for… how long? Months? Years? And yet you all hate each other. Isn’t it embarrassing?’

Dust sighed. “I don’t hate Horror. Just Killer and Nightmare.”

‘That just makes him an easy target!’ Papyrus exclaimed, trying to get his point across. Dust looked at Papyrus like he was crazy. Papyrus huffed and corrected himself. ‘Killer’s an easy target, not Nightmare. Killer doesn’t like us either, so it wouldn’t be shocking if you attempted it, anyway. He’s just an emotionless oddity and a loyal dog. We can take him!’ Sighing, Dust just accepted he wouldn’t get out of this conversation no matter how hard he tried to ignore him. ‘When has he ever done anything for us, huh? He hates you. He’s always mocking you, your personality, your traits, everything.’ Papyrus floated in front of him and stared him dead in the eyes. ‘If anything, you should just do it now. It’s not like he’ll be missed, anyways.’ Papyrus scoffed.

“Please, stop,” Dust pleaded. He looked down at the floor, avoiding the gaze of his dead brother as he continued walking the halls.

‘Unless, of course, you’re growing sof-’

“Dust!” A voice echoed through the hallways, snapping Dust out of his trance. Dust perked up and looked around. Papyrus wasn’t in front of him anymore. Unfortunately, what was in front of him was a skeleton with gray shorts with a white stripe, a black, sleeveless shirt, a messy red target in front of his chest, and black tears falling from his eyes in messy strokes.

“Killer,” Dust replied, nodding his head as a greeting. His tone was quiet, not wanting to talk longer than needed. After all, he spent most of the day arguing with him.

Grinning as usual, Killer approached him. “So, watcha up-” Killer started speaking, but Dust was walking past him, attempting to leave the conversation. However, Killer wasn’t much for social cues and turned around to follow. “Geez, rude much?” As if he wasn’t the rudest person Dust met since Papyrus.

“I’m not in the mood,” Dust admitted.

Killer huffed. “Well, that attitude isn’t gonna bring you anywhere.” When Dust didn’t respond, he rolled his eyes and walked beside him. The two roamed the hallway. “So, what are you up for anyway? Unless you’re in a depressive episode as usual, then that would make sense, wouldn’t it?” Killer snickered slightly, but Dust remained quiet. The only noise that filled the air was the sound of trees rustling in the distance, the leaves shaking in the wind. Killer’s grin fell into a frown. It was always hard to tell what Dust was feeling. His hood always cast a large shadow on his face, covering most of his expressions.

“You’re always so boring,” Killer said, his void-like eyes narrowing. “Also weird, but we’re also murderers, so that makes sense, doesn’t it?” It’s not like he was expecting a response. Killer gave an exaggerated groan, flailing his arms up. “You’re so quiet. I don’t like this silence.”

“Well,” Dust argued, “I do.”

“That’s because you’re boring.”

“Oh, shut up.” Dust, deciding he had enough of Killer and his annoying antics, took a sharp corner to a balcony. Maybe he’ll finally have some peace around here.

The night outside was peaceful and quiet, shades of blue, all blurred together like someone took a brush and mixed a bunch of watercolors. The stars were like speckles of paint splattered randomly around the sky, making intricate patterns. The balcony on this floor had a beautiful view, but the balcony itself wasn’t as nice. It was made of gray concrete, just like the rest of the castle, but slightly cracked and chipped. Dust was surprised that it hadn’t collapsed yet.

Dust sighed heavily and leaned on the railing. A nice breath of fresh air was just what he needed. He shoved a hand in his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes.

“Y’know-” Killer started behind him- “those aren’t very healthy.”

“We’re skeletons.” Dust took out a cigarette and flicked the tip. In an instant, the cigarette’s tip lit up with a blue flame. “We don’t have lungs.” Dust put the cigarette in his mouth and slightly relaxed at the familiar feeling of nicotine. Killer huffed but didn’t say anything. Dust was grateful for it.

The two stayed out on the balcony, surrounded by a calming silence. Dust was confused about how Killer could stay so quiet, but he didn’t question it. He didn’t want the fragile silence to shatter the moment he started asking questions. Without saying a word, Killer stood beside Dust, staring into the sky. The wind was a gentle breeze, barely moving Dust’s hood. It was quiet. Too quiet that he could’ve forgotten Killer was there.

Dust couldn’t help himself and mentioned. “You’re awfully quiet.”

Killer chuckled. “What? Worried about me?” There it was. Dust scoffed and blew out a puff of smoke, not even looking in his direction. Killer chuckled. “Can’t take a joke?”

“Not if that joke comes out of your mouth,” Dust shot back, regretting speaking.

Killer frowned and leaned a bit closer to Dust. “Aww~ Did I piss off the emo?” Dust groaned and took a few steps farther from Killer. Snickering, Killer moved closer, trying to get into his personal space. “C’mon! You know I was joking, don’t cha’?” Killer raised his ‘eyebrows’ expectantly, trying to look into Dust’s face.

Instead of responding, Dust took a puff of his cigarette. Maybe if he ignored Killer long enough, he’ll back down. Killer’s smile slightly fell. “... Right.” Noticing the behavior change, Dust glanced toward Killer’s soul and noticed it was shaking slightly. This wouldn’t be unusual when he was fighting, and the opponent was close to him. He’s seen it happen with Outer and Color. Seeing his soul like this in the middle of the night was weird.

Sighing, Dust finally caved in. “Why are you up?” Killer tore his gaze away from the stars and looked at Dust, shocked that he responded.

“Oh, uh… just, couldn’t sleep,” he replied.

Dust hummed, looking down below from the balcony’s view. “Do you want one?” Dust held out the cigarette pack, gesturing for Killer to take it. Killer looked at it before gently taking it out of Dust’s hands. It was almost like he was afraid it would crumble under his touch.

“I don’t have a lighter,” Killer said dryly, holding it back to Dust. “And I don’t smoke.”

“Well,” Dust said, taking a cigarette from the box and flicking the tip, making it light up, “you don’t need one.” Dust smiled, his grin sly as a fox and devilish as a wolf. He handed it to Killer as he eyed the cigarette suspiciously. After carefully taking the cigarette from Dust’s white-gloved hands, he plopped it in his mouth.

Killer looked out into the sky. “Thanks,” he said quietly, still curious about why Dust offered him the cigarette. Dust nodded in a way of saying ‘You’re welcome’ and looked out to the sky with him.

The silence was comforting for Dust. Killer’s foot was tapping the ground rhythmically, making small noises. Of course, it bothered Dust slightly, but he forced himself to ignore it.

“You never answered me,” Killer reminded, trying to fill the void of noise. He took the cigarette out his mouth.“Why are you still awake?”

“I could say the same for you.”

“I did answer!” Killer was a bit annoyed at Dust hiding things.

“You did,” Dust said, “but that doesn’t mean it’s the truth.” Killer opened his mouth to argue, but couldn’t think of anything. Dust could see right through him.

“Pshh, whatever.” Killer put the cigarette back in his mouth, frowning slightly. Dust looked at Killer, his gaze going towards his target soul. “Fine, fine,” Killer said, noticing Dust staring. He took his cigarette out of his mouth and spoke. “It’s just because of this stupid nightmare.” Dust looked up and stared at Killer.

Before bursting out laughing.

Killer groaned. “It’s not funny!” Still, Dust cackled, his cigarette dropping on the balcony. “Dust! You’re making me regret this!” Dust’s laughter slowed down, but he kept snickering. Killer sighed as his soul started to shake and vibrate a bit more. “It’s not that funny.”

“I think it’s funny that you’re so worked up over nothing.”

“Seriously?! I preferred you when you were quiet, Dust.”

“I thought you hated silence,” Dust said, chuckling. He stomped on his cigarette. “Besides, it’s pretty funny.”

“It’s not.” Killer put his cigarette in his mouth and looked away from Dust, crossing his arms over his chest. Dust rolled his eyes, not that Killer could see it, and walked a bit closer to Killer.

“If it makes you feel better, I woke up cause of voices.”

Killer took the cigarette out of his mouth and looked at Dust, confused. “Voices?” Killer questioned. “So, voices are less crazy than a bad dream?”

“Don’t make me punch you.”

“But you love me!” Killer gasped dramatically. “Are you saying our relationship was forged upon lies?!”

“What relationship? You mean you being an ass to me and me dealing with it?”

“If anything,” Killer started, smirking, “that’s the peak of friendship.” Dust scoffed and looked away, not wanting to hear it. “Oh, c’mon Dust! We’ve known each other for over a year! You should know by now that if I annoy you, it means love.” Killer put the cigarette in his mouth and made a heart shape with his hands, smiling childishly.

Dust sighed. “Yeah, right.” He took the cigarette out of Killer’s mouth and put it in his own. “But that’s not my love language.”

Killer, taken aback at the sudden snatching of his cigarette, looked at Dust with wide eyes. His mouth was slightly opened as he stared at Dust smoking the cigarette that used to be his. Dust snickered, his voice deep and gravelly. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“I- You-” Killer stammered, not being able to process what just happened. “You- You practically kissed me!”

Dust looked at Killer like he was crazy, not like anyone could tell. “It’s just a cigarette. Not like we’re making out right now.”

Thoughts still jumbled up, Killer tried to speak against him. “Yeah, but- I mean-”

“If you think this is intimate, then it’s clear you’ve never dated someone before.” Dust took out the cigarette and blew a puff of smoke into Killer’s face. Killer coughed and waved a hand in front of his face, the smell burning his ‘nose’. “You always have a big mouth. It’s weird seeing you so speechless and silent.”

“Well,” Killer started, clearing his throat, “maybe I want to be quiet for a change.”

“That’s laughable.” Dust leaned on the railing once again, the smoke from his cigarette floating into the air.

Killer looked at Dust with a strange expression. Dust side glanced at it. His head was hung lower than usual, and his hands were messing with the bottom of his shirt.

“I’m sorry!” He blurted out, making Dust turn his head completely. When Dust looked at Killer, his cheeks were slightly red. “I mean,” he cleared his throat, “I’m not completely sorry, I just…” He trailed off, not knowing what to say. “I mean I’m sorry for always… jabbing, at your back, and… The- The dream I had, that’s why.” Killer looked at Dust. When he didn’t make any movements or signs of reaction, he looked back down. “The dream was that you went crazy and killed me. You were on an L.V. high or something and a gaster blaster hit me.”

“That’s why your soul was weird?” Killer looked at Dust, offended, but nodded anyway. “Hm.”

Killer waited patiently for any other response, but none came. When he looked back at Dust, he just saw him smoking like nothing happened. “... That’s it? No ‘I forgive you’ or ‘In hell I’ll forgive you’? Nothing?”

Dust looked slowly back to Killer before looking out into the sky again. “It’s almost dawn,” he said. “We must’ve been here for around two hours now, huh.”

“I-”

“And here you are, worrying about some dumb dream.” Dust looked at Killer. Though his face was completely covered by his hood, Killer could feel there was no malice in his words. “If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it by now.” Well… Dust is Dust.

“But you do, don’t you?” Killer looked at Dust like he was stupid. “I’ve always been a pain to you, since…” He thought. “Well, since I met you! I’ve always insulted you, your appearance.”

“Especially my appearance.”

“Heck,” Killer said, ignoring Dust’s interruption, “remember that one time when I gave you a mental breakdown because I took down your hood?”

“Ah.” Dust felt the memory rushing back to him. Killer was poking at his hood too much and eventually pulled it off. It’s where his fear of letting people near him comes from. “Like it was yesterday.”

“So- So why?! Seriously, how-”

Dust grabbed him by his collar and yanked him towards him. Killer was now directly in front of Dust. So close that he could faintly make out his appearance. “Because we’re teammates. I may hate it sometimes… Most of the time, but we’re stuck together. We don’t have to be friends for me to not want to kill you.”

“I beg to differ.”

“K i l l e r .”

“Alright, alright!” Killer shoved Dust’s hand off of his collar and quickly backed away. “Geez, you’re scary.”

“My L.V. is 20,” Dust confirmed. “You should be scared. I could kill you right here, right now, and Nightmare would just replace you with another timeline.” Killer looked at Dust with fear. Dust’s eyes started to glow as his purple magic started to surround his aura.

Dust could hear Papyrus whispering in his ear.

“You’ve insulted me the moment I got here, and you’ve continued with it ever since. You’ve humiliated me, agitated me, and I could make your death anything but swift and painless.” Dust started to approach Killer until his back was against the railing. Another step and Killer would fall over the edge.”

Papyrus’s whispers grew louder.

“But I won’t.”

Papyrus’s whispers faded away into the wind. Killer looked at Dust, his fear replaced with confusion.

“The reason I’m up is because Papy wanted me to kill you. His whispers were loud. Louder than usual.”

Killer looked at Dust, and after so long, he felt an emotion.

“I got up and went out of my room because they hurt. I was scared I would’ve killed you like last time. Remember that day when I almost killed you with a gaster blaster in my sleep? That was him when I was on an L.V. high. I couldn’t control it.”

Killer felt pity.

“I just hate how emotionless you are. You’re always so loud and obnoxious, you never care about consequences. But I do. It also pissed me off how you didn’t care when I got punishments like it was amusing.”

Killer felt shocked.

“But that day, despite how annoying you are, that could’ve gotten you killed, okay? One day I won’t be able to control myself and you’ll get killed. I can feel it. Papyrus almost made me kill you. Yet, you didn’t think much of it.”

Killer felt grateful.

“That scares- Are you even listening to me? I thought I was having a moment with-”

Killer felt loved.

Killer gave a giddy smile and lunged at Dust, hugging him tightly. His arms were wrapped around Dust’s waist as he twirled around in circles on the balcony, laughing in euphoria. Dust yelped in surprise, but Killer didn’t care much. “Killer-! Put me down-” But Killer didn’t dare let go of Dust. He kept spinning around with Dust in his arms.

After a few minutes, Killer set down Dust on the balcony. Dust latched onto Killer’s arm for a bit, feeling dizzy. “S-Sorry, Dust.” Killer laughed awkwardly, helping Dust stand up straight. “I just… I don’t really know.”

“It’s… fine?” Dust was honestly really confused. That was strange.

“Sorry, again. I didn’t mean to be so… emotionless. I don’t really control it-”

“I’m sorry,” Dust said, cutting off Killer. “I know it’s not your fault. We all have… issues, don’t we?”

Killer snorted. “Issues? More like trauma caused by a human child.” Dust sighed. The emotions problem wasn’t going away any time soon, but he’s dealt with it for a year. He’ll live, for the most part. Killer grabbed Dust’s gloves hands in his own, the fabric feeling cold. “But… Thank you. For- For forgiving me.”

“Forgiving… That’s a bit far.” Dust tensed up slightly at the sudden contact, but didn’t move. “It’s more like… a mutual love-hate relationship?”

Killer gave a small gasp. “You love me?”

Dust rolled his eyes and pulled his hands out of Killer’s grasp. “Do not misinterpret my words, Killer.” Killer’s smile turned into a frown. Dust scoffed. “You’re not pulling the puppy eye’s card. It won’t work.”

Killer’s frown turned into a sly smile. “Aww, I thought my puppy face was cute! Disappointing.”

Sighing, Dust took out his cigarette and tossed it over the balcony. Killer frowned. “Hey! What’s the point in taking my cigarette if you’re just gonna throw it away?”

“To be fair, it was mine first.”

“Still-” Before he could say another word, Dust grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him forward. Dust’s lips met with Killer’s in a lustful, rough kiss.

The moment felt surreal. For Killer, at least. Killer gasped through the kiss as his arms slowly wrapped around Dust’s waist, careful not to overstep boundaries. Once his arms were completely around Dust’s waist, he pulled him closer so their bodies were together and close. Dust’s hands guided themselves, tracing over Killer’s neck before wrapping around to put more force into the kiss. Their mouths moved in sync, the taste of cigarettes lingering in their mouths in a burning sensation. Killer felt hungry for the affection and love he longed for, but never received. Dust wanted comfort and reassurance, knowing he wouldn’t lose control from a high.

They both struggled with LOVE.

As Dust tried to pull away, Killer kept pushing forward, not wanting the moment to end. Dust gave a light laugh as Killer’s lips drowned it out.

The two made out on the balcony until the first peak of dawn, the golden bursts of sunlight shining on their faces. Still, they didn’t care. They just stood there in each other’s embrace.

When they finally let go, they stared at each other; Killer’s black eyes shining in the light, and Dust’s face visible, his eyes a crimson red and neon blue. Killer finally spoke. “Did… did you really just kiss me?” He was shocked, but a cheeky grin slowly spread onto his face. 

Dust rolled his eyes. “Surprised I didn’t throw up.”

“Doesn’t answer the question, Dust Bunny.”

“I don’t know,” Dust admitted, pulling down his hood to reveal his face even more. Killer blushed when he saw his face more clearly. Every inch of his face was beautiful to him. “I think you have to kiss me again to find out.”So they both stood on the balcony and kissed again, this time full of passion and L.O.V.E. love.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

oopsie daisy, almost forgot about the ending part-

so, yeah! that's it- It's cute I guess, but I never like what I make so I have to say I hate it- lol. hope you enjoyed! this was a nice one- took me two days, too- thanks to my friend who gave me the idea <3

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 11 - And Felt The Pulse Beat Fast

Summary: Arthur and Hosea share meaningful conversation after a night of advertising some moonshine. Meanwhile Kate finds herself involved in a dubious mission with John and the boys. She patches up Arthur as the day ends with an air of unspoken desire.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters  Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

TW: Brief mention of suicide, body image issues, eating disorder. Period typical racism.

A/N: Another long one, ~8k words. The end had me giggling and kicking my feet. I hope you enjoy! Comments and criticism are always welcome :)

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig **please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Story Tags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

Kate and I met this strange young bastard, Beau, and his forbidden love Penelope. Poor kids are just lookin’ for freedom but they’re stuck in some old family feud they ain’t even a part of. We delivered some letters for them, Kate insisted on it. I  gave her grief about it at first, but she was determined to go out of her way for these kids. Woman’s got a heart of gold.

Somehow, I ended up marching as a suffragette, the looks of loathing on the face of the locals amused me. I don’t know much about good causes, but I enjoyed my little experience riding alongside them. Kate showed me there’s more than one path, she chose to do the right thing and we still managed to gather some useful information. 

She makes my head dizzy sometimes, this woman. Came right out and asked to kiss me again! I choked up bad. She’s always speaking her mind, like she ain’t afraid of nothing. I love that about her. I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn’t. I just can not do that to her. She’s been through too much already, and she deserves a good man. 

And I don’t deserve that kinda happiness. 

Arthur woke the next morning with a heavy weight on his chest, the remnants of a sleepless night etched into the lines of his weary face. Kate's tender words echoed in his mind like a haunting melody, refusing to fade with the dawn. No one had spoken to him with such honesty and vulnerability in ages, and Arthur couldn't shake the memory of disappointment flickering in Kate's eyes when he couldn't reciprocate her feelings. As much as his heart longed to kiss and hold her again. 

As he lay there, Arthur's thoughts drifted back to Mary, the woman he once loved. He recalled the night he proposed to her, the anticipation heavy in the air, only to be met with the sting of rejection. Mary wanted him to leave behind his life of danger, to embrace a quieter existence with her, far from the chaos of the gang. Arthur understood her desire for simplicity, but he couldn't abandon the gang; the family that needed him. He pleaded with Mary to join him, but she refused, unwilling to sever ties with her own family, especially her younger brother.

Now, years later, Arthur felt he had strayed too far down a path of darkness to ever deserve happiness again. The memory of Mary's rejection lingered as a painful reminder of his inability to change, to be the man she needed. He believed himself beyond redemption, resigned to a life devoid of the joy he once craved.

To his surprise, Kate appeared unfazed by Arthur's refusal the previous night. She greeted him in the morning with her usual warmth, as if their conversation had not left a lingering tension between them. They shared breakfast together, engaging in easy conversation that helped ease some of the weight on Arthur's shoulders. Kate mentioned that she had already discussed their findings with Hosea, who wanted to meet with Arthur later that evening regarding a potential job at the Braithwaite estate.

Her calm demeanor brought Arthur a sense of comfort amid his inner turmoil. As they finished their meal, Kate gracefully excused herself to resume her tasks with the other girls. She promised to join him for dinner as usual, maintaining their routine without skipping a beat. Arthur watched her go about her duties with a mixture of admiration and gratitude. Despite his fears of pushing her away, Kate seemed to understand. And didn’t think ill of him for it. 

As the day unfolded, Arthur found himself immersed in a job orchestrated by Uncle—an opportunity to stage a simple yet lucrative payroll robbery. He teamed up with Charles and together they executed the heist with precision. The stagecoach robbery went off without a hitch, yielding a substantial sum that brought a brief sense of satisfaction to Arthur, feeling like a proper thief he was raised to be.

As the sun began its descent, Arthur sought out Hosea near the hidden stash of stolen moonshine. He detailed his failed attempt to sell back the stolen moonshine to the Braithwaites. Hosea recounted how they had approached the Braithwaite matriarch with an offer, only to be met with a cold rejection. The old woman haughtily declared that they deserved no reward for returning what she considered rightfully hers. Instead, in a spiteful act of retribution, she offered a meager ten dollars to distribute the moonshine for free at Mr. Gray's saloon.

Arthur was puzzled by the Braithwaite's response. Hosea clarified that it was a calculated move—a means of exacting revenge on the Grays and the town drunks. By turning the intoxicated patrons into even greater fools for the night, the Braithwaites hoped to incite chaos and leave Sheriff Gray to deal with the ensuing fallout.

Amidst the chaos of the moonshine-fueled night at Mr. Gray's saloon, Arthur assumed his familiar role as "Fenton," a persona he had adopted in previous schemes alongside Hosea. The act required him to play the part of Hosea’s younger idiot brother, who also happened to be mute. His only job was keeping glasses filled without uttering a single word. Though Arthur despised the charade, he couldn't suppress a chuckle at the absurdity of their antics—the lengths they would go to for a successful heist.

Draped in the guise of Fenton, Arthur navigated the rowdy patrons, handing out moonshine liberally as the atmosphere inside the saloon grew increasingly raucous. The scene was a stark reminder of earlier days, when he and Hosea were younger and life seemed simpler, despite the risks they took.

As the night wore on, the situation escalated when Sheriff Gray himself appeared, prompting Hosea and Arthur to spring into action. Shots rang out, echoing through the old saloon as lawmen pursued them. With practiced ease, they slipped through the back door, disappearing into the shadows and swiftly making their way to the waiting wagon. In the chaos that ensued, Arthur expertly handled their pursuers while Hosea skillfully guided the reins.

A small shootout erupted as the Grays chased them through the winding back roads and fields leading out of Rhodes. Arthur remained focused, taking down their adversaries while Hosea expertly navigated the terrain. The tension was palpable, the thrill of the night's escapade mingling with the danger of their flight.

Approaching the train tracks, Arthur spotted a train. With precise timing, they crossed just as the locomotive barreled through, cutting off their pursuers. The lawmen were left stranded on the other side, unable to follow.

Once they were safely beyond reach, away from the danger that had pursued them, laughter erupted between Arthur and Hosea. It was a release of pent-up tension, the adrenaline-fueled joy of a successful escape mingling with the shared camaraderie of outlaws.

“Remind me to never take up a career in…what was it? Bartending,” Arthur chuckled, glancing back at the remaining clinking bottles they were unable to distribute.

“I didn’t know they’d throw so much of a fuss over booze, this town is odd,” Hosea answered, shaking his head as he cracked the reins of the wagon.

Arthur furrowed his brow, considering the surplus moonshine. “What should we do with all the shine we still have left?”

Hosea’s expression turned grim. “That miserable Braithewaite woman wants us to burn the Grays' tobacco fields with it, I was hoping you and Sean could handle that tomorrow night.” 

“Damn, ain’t that makin’ a bit too much noise? I thought we were tryin’ to lay low in all this. These fellas may be drunks and racists, but they ain’t afraid to kill, you saw them back there,” Arthur expressed his concern.

Hosea sighed, revealing a hint of hesitation. “Dutch thinks there's money in this somewhere. His plan is to get them all riled up on each other and use that as an opportunity to slip in and rob ‘em.”

Arthur fell silent, contemplating the dangerous path they were treading by getting involved in a longstanding blood feud. “Things could get real ugly, Hosea. Do you really think one of these families is sitting on a pile of money?”

“Can’t say. But the cash box is getting full again, Arthur. We’ve been doing well on making money. With just a bit more cash, we’ll be out of here,” Hosea replied, injecting a note of hope into the conversation. Sensing Arthur's unease, he changed the subject. “Kate told me about your adventures yesterday. How are things going between you two?”

As their wagon rattled down the road, illuminated by the soft glow of the full moon, Arthur felt a sense of comfort settle over him. He glanced over at Hosea, his trusted father figure, and knew that he could confide in him about anything. The old man had a way of understanding Arthur's thoughts and feelings without needing them spelled out.

Arthur shifted uneasily in his seat, rubbing his palms together nervously, the words weighing heavily on his mind. It wouldn't escape Hosea's notice that Arthur was quite sweet on Kate. After all, it had been Hosea's idea to pair them up for the day, hoping to give Arthur a chance to spend time with her away from the group.

“I kissed her the other night, when she was singin’ a lullaby for Jack,” Arthur began, the words spilling out into the night air like a secret long kept.“She… she wanted to kiss me again today and, I really wanted to, but I had to let her down easy,”  He glanced over at Hosea, seeking some semblance of understanding in the old man's eyes.

Hosea raised an eyebrow in surprise, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You kissed her and ditched her? I thought I raised you better, son,” he teased, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

Arthur chuckled, though there was a tinge of self-deprecation in his amusement. “I know, I’m dumber than a bag of rocks.”

Hosea patted Arthur's shoulder reassuringly, his touch grounding. “You may be good at playing an idiot like Fenton,” he remarked, referencing their recent job, “but you’re a smart boy. What harm could come if you just let it happen and see where it takes you?”

With a heavy sigh, Arthur leaned back in the seat, his gaze drifting up to the blinking stars above, memories of Kate’s confession flooding his thoughts. “I just don’t wanna hurt her. And… I don’t wanna feel that kinda hurt again.”

Nodding in understanding, Hosea's expression softened with a paternal concern for the young cowboy. “I’m not gonna live forever, son. I’d just like to see you be happy with someone before I go.”

“I was happy once. I had a woman who loved me, and she left me because I couldn’t change for her.” Arthur admitted, his voice giving away the deep sorrow he still harbored about his young love. 

“Mary was a good woman, I did like her. You were both so young and naive, still navigating your own lives,” Hosea mused, his voice carrying the weight of hindsight. His gaze softened with memories. “But I don’t think she was the right one for you. She couldn’t tame that wild heart of yours.”

Arthur listened, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, the wagon jostling over uneven terrain. “Sometimes, I feel like I can’t even tame it myself,” he confessed, his tone tinged with resignation.

Hosea's eyes twinkled with a knowing glint. “That's why you need someone strong enough to stand in the ring with you,” he remarked, his voice brimming with wisdom, “and face down the beast with a heart just as wild.”

Arthur nodded slowly, the words sinking in like stones dropped into a still pond. He mulled over Hosea's advice, feeling the weight of his own heart's desires. The night enveloped them in a cocoon of shared understanding, the stars above bearing witness to their quiet contemplation.

Arthur’s confession hung heavy in the air, his words weighed down by the burden of his past. “Once she knows what I’ve done, I don’t think she can forgive me for it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, like a man confessing his sins.

Hosea let out a light scoff, his eyes bright with a hint of amusement. “Son, your bounty has been posted in almost every town in the west,” he remarked wryly. “She knows we’re outlaws, I think she’s probably aware you’ve killed some folk.”

Shaking his head slowly, Arthur gathered his thoughts, his gaze fixed on the horizon ahead. “No, no it ain’t that,” he muttered, his words heavy with hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Kate told me ‘bout her family, how they all passed from accidents or disease. She even had to bury her own daughter. I just…” His voice trailed off, grappling with the weight of his own truth. “I just don’t know how to tell her about my own. About my son, Isaac. Or Eliza.”

Hosea leaned back against the wagon’s seat, his expression thoughtful. “What’s stopping you from telling her? That’s something you two have in common,” he pointed out gently.

“Because I–I can’t tell her I’m the reason they’re dead,” Arthur confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “Family means so much to her, she’d never forgive me for throwing it away.”

The old man regarded Arthur with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. “Son, if you’re so worried about her turning the other cheek on you, I think you need to tell her the truth,” Hosea advised, his tone earnest. “She’s going to find out eventually, and you know she’s a smart woman. She understands what you are and still chooses to be by your side. And I’d be surprised if she draws the line at something that happened in the past. You're too hard on yourself, Arthur. What happened to Eliza and Isaac was terrible, but it was not your fault.”

Arthur rarely spoke about his son, Isaac, even with Hosea, his closest confidant. The weight of their deaths bore heavily on his heart, like an anchor dragging him into the depths of guilt and regret. Isaac's passing had transformed Arthur into a different man, one hardened by grief and the burden of responsibility.

Hosea had witnessed the change in Arthur firsthand. Before the tragedy that befell Eliza and Isaac, Arthur was more carefree, with a spark of youthful innocence in his eyes. But as time wore on, a darkness crept into his demeanor, a shadow that never quite lifted. He carried their deaths like a scar, a permanent mark etched upon his soul.

In moments of vulnerability, Arthur would let slip glimpses of his sorrow, revealing the cracks in his stoic facade. He blamed himself for their deaths, convinced that if he had been a better man, a different man, things might have turned out differently. It was a burden he carried alone, tucked away behind layers of bravado and hardened resolve.

Hosea understood the depth of Arthur's pain, but he also recognized the resilience that lay beneath. Arthur's reluctance to share his grief spoke volumes about the depth of his sorrow. It was a wound that time could not heal, a wound that had shaped the man Arthur had become.

As the wagon turned down the familiar winding road that led to their camp, the night's chorus surrounded them with the faint hum of a crackling fire and the warm glow as it cast dancing shadows across the clearing.

Arthur broke the moment of silence, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I should’ve been there for them, Pa," he confessed, his eyes fixed on the dark silhouette of the trees passing by.

Hosea sighed, the years etched into the lines of his face. "Yes, son, but life has a way of throwing us off course, even when we try our best," he replied, his voice carrying the weight of wisdom earned through hardship. "This world can be cruel, as you well know."

"I can’t be a bad man and expect good things like Kate to happen to me. It just don’t work that way," Arthur continued, his words laced with self-doubt.

Hosea placed a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder, his touch a welcome comfort. "Kate sees something good in you, son," his tone was gentle yet firm. "Maybe it's time you started seeing it too."

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate scrubbed diligently, the soap creating frothy suds as she ran the bar along the stretched cotton over the washboard. She sat on a small stool in the shade beneath a sprawling tree, her trousers dotted with darkened spots from the splashing water. The air was heavy with heat, but the coolness of the water in the small washtub offered a brief respite. With each steady motion, her fingers became slightly more pruned from the repeated immersion.

Beside her, Mary-Beth was busy ringing out the soapy cloth and dipping it into a clean bucket, the rhythmic process mirroring Kate's own. The girls found solace in their shared task, engaged in easy conversation to while away the chore.

“So,” Kate began, a mischievous glint in her eye, “I saw you talking to Kieran the other day. Want to spill the beans on what’s really going on there?” She nudged Mary-Beth playfully with her knee.

The young girl looked down, a faint blush tinting her cheeks as she tried to hide her face from Kate's teasing gaze. “He was just curious about the book I was reading, that’s all,” she admitted bashfully, her voice carrying a hint of embarrassment.

Kate knew Mary-Beth's romantic tendencies well. From the moment they met, it was clear that she had a penchant for love affairs and romantic tales—her nose buried in romance novels and dreams of penning her own someday.

“That’s all?” Kate teased, a playful glint in her eye. “I see you watching him groom those horses every day. Somebody's got eyes for the O’Driscoll boy,” she added, splashing a bit of water in jest.

Mary-Beth retaliated with a laugh, “He ain’t an O’Driscoll!” Her grin gave away any attempt at concealing her feelings. She glanced over towards the horses, and Kate followed her gaze to where Kieran Duffy was tending to the animals. “He’s been talkin’ to me a lot recently. I just think he’s sweet.”

Kate's eyes lingered on the scene, noticing Lenny and Javier saddling their horses nearby, while John caught her gaze as he approached them.

Just as Kate was about to respond, John called out to her, “Kate! You busy right now?”

She looked up, eyes squinting as the sun glowed behind his frame. She gestured with open palms towards the wash bin. “You need somethin’?” she asked.

John tipped his hat to Mary-Beth, who waved politely in return. “We’re heading out to the Braithwaite manor to check out some horses. Thought you might wanna come,” he explained, nodding back to where Lenny and Javier were waiting.

Kate chuckled, her tone lighthearted. “You plan on stealing them or something?”

John crossed his arms casually, “well, you know,” he trailed, “if the opportunity presents itself.” Not bothering to hide their dubious intentions. Kate has to remind herself sometimes that she is running with outlaws. For them, a job doesn't mean checking out the goods, it means stealing goods. 

He cleared his throat and explained the situation seriously, “some fella from the Gray family told us he’d pay to have their horses stolen. Also mentioned they go for $1000 a piece.”

Kate raised a brow of suspicion, “and you believe him?” 

John only shrugged, “it's worth looking into.”

She waved him off with a touch of concern, “I don’t want no trouble John, I’m sure you boys will manage fine without me.” 

John persisted, his voice reassuring. “It won’t be no trouble at all. We’ll be in and out, they won’t even know we’re there,” he said, adding an enticing detail, “word is they got some pretty nice gypsy horses. Real purebreds too.”

Kate found herself caught in the web of temptation. Stealing horses was not something she relished, but the promise of seeing such a purebred up close was alluring. If they pulled it off successfully, she knew the money would help the gang alot. She figured it wouldn't be so bad to help them in one little heist. 

As if Mary-Beth could sense her conflicting ideas, she interrupted the silence, "I can finish up here, Kate. You should go. They'll have a better chance of pulling it off with you." She winked knowingly, seeming to support Kate's unspoken decision.

She made up her mind, fixing John with a pointed look. "No trouble," she repeated firmly, more as a command than a question.

"No trouble," John assured her with a nod of understanding.

Kate wiped her damp arms across her shirt, bidding Mary-Beth farewell and promising to catch up with her later. As she approached her midnight mare, the horse whinnied in recognition, sensing the upcoming adventure. Javier and Lenny greeted her from their saddles, both looking ready for action.

Javier tipped his hat with a charming smile. "Nice of you to join us, cariño," he said, his tone warm and inviting.

Kate swiftly mounted her horse, adjusting herself in the saddle. "You boys better hope this goes smoothly," she remarked with a playful smirk, her eyes scanning the group with a hint of caution.

Lenny rode his stallion closer to Kate's, "I gotta say, having you with us doubles our luck, don't you think?" he replied, his tone light-hearted but with an underlying sense of confidence.

She smiled fondly. Together the four of them took off down the lush green path and onto the dirt road. Kate was glad for the invitation, it made her feel good that the gang trusted her enough to include her in such tasks, that they were confident in her ability to work alongside them. She felt a new sense of trust among them, and camaraderie. She felt like she was becoming a real member, and not just some lone traveler like she had been nearly a month ago. 

The journey to the Braithwaite manor was uneventful, the cool breeze of the afternoon air was refreshing against their skin as they rode. As they arrived at the manor from the south side, away from the prying gaze of the property guards. The grand estate loomed before them, a testament to the family's wealth and power. They dismounted their horses in a secluded spot, ensuring they wouldn't draw too much attention.

Kate's mind wandered briefly, wondering if Penelope would be out in her gazebo enjoying the afternoon sun. 

John's voice interrupted her thoughts, his tone matter-of-fact as he laid out the plan. "Let's keep this nice and easy. No need to rush. We're here on behalf of a buyer, looking to make a significant investment," he explained as they followed him toward the barn.

Outside the stable doors, a worker paused in his tasks, eyeing them with suspicion. "Can I help you fellas?" he asked, his tone wary.

"I hope so," John replied amiably, trying to appear non-threatening. "Heard you got some horses?"

"We always got horses," the man responded gruffly.

"Fine horses, I mean," John clarified.

The worker's expression soured, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at the group. "I don't know whatchu’ talkin' 'bout, friend. Why don't you take that hoyden wench, yer greaser buddy, and his darkie friend and get off the property ‘fore I blow your face off," he retorted, spitting at their feet.

Kate raised her eyebrows in surprise at the man's unabashed racism and arrogance toward strangers. Suddenly understanding Tilly’s hesitation about being so far south. Javier quickly raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Whoa, take it easy there, amigo," he interjected, trying to diffuse the tension.

John remained unfazed by the man's hostility. "Come on now, partner. We're just looking to do some business. Inquire about a purchase," he persisted.

The worker let out an annoyed sigh. "Fine, follow me, Scarface," he grumbled, the insults never ceasing.

The ranch hand, ever welcoming, led them into the barn, his voice a steady stream of information about the horses—names, breeds, and abilities. She noticed they were not the purebreds John had heard rumors about. Still beautiful, strong horses nonetheless. 

Kate observed John and Javier exchanging a look as they walked deeper into the dimly lit space. When the man paused to pet a horse, John subtly motioned to Javier, who deftly moved behind the unsuspecting worker. 

Meanwhile, Lenny smoothly interjected with feigned interest. "Wow, look at the balls on that one," he chuckled, pointing in another direction. The ranch hand followed his gaze, oblivious to the danger lurking behind him.

With his back turned, Javier seized the opportunity, drawing his pistol from his belt. "Greaser, huh?" he muttered bitterly before striking the bottom of the iron against the man's head, knocking him out instantly. John and Javier wasted no time, swiftly moving the unconscious body to a hidden spot while Lenny began unlocking the stable gates.

Kate stood in stunned silence for a moment, her voice barely audible as she tried to suppress her surprise. "What happened to nice and easy?" she muttered.

Her comment elicited a chuckle from Lenny, who had already mounted one of the horses. "Can't get any easier than this. Let’s try to get 'em out of here without drawing too much attention," he replied casually.

Despite her swirling thoughts and unease, Kate pushed her concerns aside and mounted one of the horses. Following the three bandits out of the barn, she joined them as they sped off through the sprawling property, the rush of adrenaline mixing with a sense of trepidation.

The thundering hooves of their stolen horses echoed through the property. Behind them, shouts and the pounding of boots indicated that their presence had been discovered. Several ranch hands emerged from the buildings, brandishing rifles and shouting warnings.

John, Kate, Javier, and Lenny spurred their horses into a full gallop, kicking up dust and dirt as they raced across the open fields. The pursuing ranch hands fired off a few rounds in their direction, but the distance and the speed of their mounts made accurate shooting difficult.

As they reached the fence at the edge of the property, they leapt over the barrier. The group plunged into a dense thicket of trees, the branches clawing at their faces and clothes. The sounds of pursuit faded behind them as the guards were forced to slow down and eventually give up the chase. They whistled loudly, and soon their own horses caught up and began to follow in tow. 

Javier led the way as they made their way through the landscape to find the supposed buyers at Clemens Cove. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The encounter with the buyers proved to be an intriguing yet unsettling experience. They were met by a pair of brothers who seemed to operate in uncanny harmony, sometimes speaking in unison and shrouding their business with secrecy. Details about their clientele and operations were kept hidden, with only a vague promise that one of them would be available for future dealings, if they wished to become business partners.

During the negotiation, one of the brothers made a direct offer to purchase Kate’s prized black Hungarian outright, offering her a substantial sum. However, Kate politely declined without hesitation. Her bond with the mare ran deep, and no amount of money could sway her decision to part with her cherished companion.

The brothers’ offer of 50 cents on the dollar for the stolen horses was not quite what John had anticipated, but it still amounted to a respectable deal given the circumstances.

After concluding their business at Clemens Cove, the posse set off back towards the rolling plains. The sun had dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm and serene glow over the lush green hills. Their horses trotted steadily along the trail as the  landscape unfolded around them, painted in hues of amber and gold, as they made their way back to camp.

"Hoyden wench…" Kate echoed with a chuckle, mimicking the ranch hand's harsh drawl. "I've been called a lot of things, but that sure is a first."

Javier, riding alongside her, piped up from the saddle, his expression puzzled. "What the hell does that mean, anyway?"

Lenny let out an exasperated sigh. " 'Wench' was a term used by slavers for black women. And 'hoyden' means she's too much of a 'tomboy’,'' he explained.

"Well, I can understand the 'tomboy' part, but she's not even—"

"Doesn't matter, amigo," John interjected, his tone matter-of-fact. "If ya skin ain't as white as a baby's bottom, it's all the same to them."

Kate nodded in agreement, her thoughts drifting back to the locals she had observed while running letters with Arthur. Witnessing their prejudice up close and personal was a stark reminder of the challenges faced by Lenny and Tilly in this region. As a woman of Italian descent, her skin carried a honey-brown hue, bronzed by the Lemoyne sun. Even this slight difference posed a threat to the narrow-minded locals, a reality that churned her stomach with discomfort.

"I'm ‘bout ready to get the hell out of dodge," Lenny added, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Speakin’ of racist hillbillies, Javier and I are heading out to Shady Belle. Got a tip there's some raiders sittin’ on guns and ammo. You guys want in?" He turned to John and Kate with a casual invitation.

Kate shook her head, "thanks Lenny, but I think I'll pass this time."

John chimed in with a polite refusal. "As much as I love killing racists, I gotta get back to Abigail for dinner."

Javier and Lenny exchanged nods of understanding. "No worries, compadres," Javier replied. "We'll catch up with you later."

As they bid farewell, Kate and John veered onto the familiar dirt path that led back to Clemens Point. 

The gentle melody of song birds and the steady pounding of hooves on the dry soil filled the atmosphere. Before they could approach the camp, John's voice broke the peaceful ambiance. 

"Hey, I know I sound stupid for saying this, but thank you for being a friend to Abigail. All of this has been really hard on her," he explained, his tone earnest and reflective. He glanced ahead, his thoughts drifting to his woman back at camp. "I know it may not look like it, but I'm trying—I'm working on being the kind of father she wants me to be and the husband she needs."

Kate gave him a sympathetic look, her eyes softening. “You don't sound stupid, John. This life ain’t easy for nobody, especially when there's a child in the mix.” She was slightly surprised to hear him open up to her. 

John sighed, his expression heavy with regret. “Still, I know you and I ain’t all that close, but, I did somethin’ pretty bad. I worry she might never forgive me for it.”

With a sideways glance, Kate nodded reluctantly. “Yeahhh, Abigail already told me ‘bout all that.”

“Shit, she did?” John's eyes widened in surprise.

She couldn't help but chuckle, a hint of mischief in her voice. “Oh yeah, she’s told me everything John.” Abigail didn't babble to Kate just for the sake of gossip; she understood that Abigail needed someone to confide in, someone to listen and truly hear her. She needed to feel seen, heard, and understood. Especially in times like these. 

“Well goddamn, now I feel like a proper dumbass.”

“She still loves you, John, and your boy does too. But love doesn’t come for free—it takes a lot of effort. Keep pushin’ to be a better man, she sees your effort. I promise you.” Kate's words were gentle yet firm,

"Thanks, Kate. Say, you’ve been ridin’ with us for a while now. You think you’re stickin’ ‘round for the long haul?” John asked, his tone curious.

Kate shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “I can’t say for certain. But for now, that’s the plan. Never thought I’d be workin’ with outlaws, but I guess it’s sometimes kinda fun,” she replied, hinting at their recent endeavor. Though petty horse theft was one thing, running from the law for murder was another.

“I noticed you and Arthur get along pretty well. He the reason you're stayin’ put?” John probed further. No doubt trying to get a grasp on his brother's affairs.

“Arthur’s a bit of a mystery to me. But we’re just friends, is all,” Kate answered, her tone casual yet guarded. She knew things between her and Arthur were only just beginning, but it was still undoubtedly complicated. The fact that some of the members had taken notice of their relationship sparked a tinge of worry. 

“You’re a tough woman to read sometimes,” he smirked, the scar on his cheek crinkled slightly. “Well, whatever the case. Take care of yourself, ya hear?” He expressed a genuine smile as he rode ahead back into camp. 

Kate followed behind, the aroma of Pearson’s signature stew filling her lungs with its savory fragrance. She left Lorena to graze peacefully among her own four-legged companions and headed toward the chuck wagon, eager to enjoy a well-earned meal after a day filled with adventure. The camp was alive with the usual sounds—crackling fire, distant chatter, and the occasional whinny of horses—creating a familiar and comforting backdrop to the evening.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

As Arthur returned to camp under the blanket of stars, the world seemed silent except for the faint rustle of night creatures and the distant crackle of a dying fire. He dismounted his mare with practiced quiet, the shadows of night his ally in avoiding unwanted company.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, his frustration palpable in the tight set of his jaw and the weariness etched in his movements. Tonight, he had no patience for idle chatter or bullshit from the guys. Especially the ones awake at this hour.

Burning the tobacco fields with Sean had proven to be no easy task. Though never any job orchestrated by Dutch ever was. It was nights like these where Arthur questioned when all the shooting and robbing would end. What the point of it all was. 

Behind his tent, the open end of the wagon served as a makeshift wall. Arthur rummaged through crates, finding what he needed—a needle, thread, alcohol, and cloth. Wincing as he prodded the bullet graze just under his armpit.

“I’m gettin’ too old for this shit” he mumbled to himself.

Getting shot had never been part of Arthur's plan on any job. He prided himself on his quick draw and accuracy, always aiming to fire first and hit his mark before danger could strike him. But shooting under cover of night, navigating through a blazing tobacco field while avoiding being burned alive—such challenges could make even the finest gunslinger stumble.

The guards had descended upon them as soon as the smoke rose, but Sean had urged them to press on, insisting they keep pouring the moonshine without hesitation. Arthur couldn't help but worry that the young Irishman's ambition might one day lead him into an early grave.

Surprisingly, the only injury Arthur had sustained was a bullet graze, still needing a few stitches but nothing life-threatening. Meanwhile, Sean had returned unscathed, already regaling their escapade around the campfire with a bottle in hand.

Under the cool night air, Arthur peeled off his sweat-dampened shirt, the chill of the air contrasting sharply with the warmth of his body. The lantern's dim glow cast shadows, highlighting the glistening of sweat on his chest and stomach.

He dipped the cloth into the alcohol, its sharp scent biting into his senses. As he attempted to clean the wound tucked under his arm, frustration crept in. The injury was beyond his line of sight, a challenge exacerbated by his own size.

Placing one arm against the side of the wagon for support, Arthur tried again, unaware of Kate's quiet approach behind him amidst the backdrop of the night's stillness.

“Need some help there, big guy?” Kate's voice was endearing, soft, almost motherly. The tone made Arthur's knees weak and his face grow warm.

Startled, Arthur nearly leapt out of his skin, quickly lowering his arm and stepping back, almost out of the lamplight. The nickname, though used innocently, stirred something akin to shame in his belly.

"What're you doin' up?" Arthur asked, attempting to appear unbothered.

Kate shrugged, her demeanor relaxed. "Couldn’t sleep. I was brushing Lorena when I saw you come in. Figured I’d say hi," she explained. "You want some help with that?" She gestured to where small trickles of blood traced down his side, her eyes lingering slowly over his bare torso.

If it weren’t for the cover of night, Kate would have seen the deep blush that crept up to his ears. "I think I’ll be alright," Arthur managed, his mouth suddenly dry.

Kate took a step closer, her gaze shifting to his shirt hanging from the side of the wagon, a round, deep red stain contrasting against its usual pale blue.

"Well, it sure don't look alright," she noted, her eyes returning to his side. "Tough spot to reach too."

Arthur's breath quickened. "I’m fine, don’t worry 'bout me," he replied, a hint of nervousness creeping into his tone.

Kate only brushed him off with a playful wave of her arm, “oh quit it! You stitched me up before, let me return the favor.” Before Arthur could react she placed a gentle hand on his bicep, “here, turn around.” She said quietly.

He complied, turning his back to her. His body froze when her fingers returned with the wet alcohol cloth. Barely noticing the sting, as her hands alone felt like fire against his cold skin. Her warmth is intoxicating. 

A moment's silence embraced them, and Arthur prayed she couldn’t hear the beat of his heart as it raced in his chest.

Her words startled him from his thoughts, “see, ain’t so bad,” her tone soft like she was comforting a child. “Why’d ya hesitate?” A hint of curiosity and concern filled her voice from behind him.  

Arthur lowered his head slightly, “I um, well I know I ain’t much to look at.” He mumbled. 

Kate continued to clean his wound tenderly, “what do you mean by that?” 

He let out a deep sigh, there was no point in being dishonest with her, “I…I just don’t like folk seein’ me without a shirt. I ain’t what I used to be. I’m gettin’ old, gettin’ heavy too.” His hand subconsciously rubbed over his belly. 

Arthur's weight was his biggest insecurity, a constant reminder of his struggles and the pain he carried. Years had passed since Eliza and Isaac's deaths, but part of him had withered away back then. The guilt had gnawed at him, devouring his spirit day by day. He sought solace in alcohol, drowning himself in the numbness it offered. His relationship with food became a twisted dance of indulgence and deprivation.

Some days, he ate to fill the emptiness inside, seeking comfort in the fleeting sensation of fullness. Other days, food seemed an enemy, a symbol of his lack of control. He despised his belly, the way it was soft and curved, a stark contrast to the man he once knew in the mirror. His size served as a relentless reminder of his deepest failure, haunting him with each glance.

Each morning he woke, Arthur grappled with the weight of existence. The world, in its merciless ways, kept him breathing, a living monument to his own remorse. He often wondered if the world would be better off without him, a sentiment that lingered like a dark cloud over his soul.

Kate sensed Arthur's tension, the silent turmoil that echoed beneath the pads of her fingers as she tended to his wound. She felt the subtle movement of his muscles, synchronized with the rise and fall of his breath. "You're a strong man, Arthur. Age and scars don't make you any less handsome," she reassured him with genuine honesty, her voice a soothing balm.

With practiced ease, Kate finished cleaning his wound and reached for the needle and thread. She gently maneuvered his arm to rest on the side of the wagon, adjusting her position for a better angle to begin stitching. Arthur's nerves betrayed him, his hand clenching into a tight fist at his side as he tried to compose himself. His head felt dizzy, as if he had been holding his breath all this time.

"I reckon you're just sayin' that to be kind," Arthur finally admitted, his self-doubt palpable in the air.

Kate chuckled softly, the sound carrying warmth and sincerity. "I've met my fair share of ugly bastards in my lifetime, but believe me, you are certainly not one of them," she assured him, her voice like a gentle flame against his skin. Her words were a rare gift, stirring something deep within him that he had long kept hidden. Arthur closed his eyes briefly, letting her words sink in.

"You're a very handsome cowboy, wrinkles, scars, size and all. I think you're a lovely man," Kate affirmed, her words carrying a sincerity that tugged at Arthur's heart. "Besides, I know I'm not the picturesque woman myself. I'm no stranger to the cruel effects of time and livin' rough. Today, I was even called a ‘hoyden wench’ by some bona fide racist ranch hand," she added with a light laugh, as if brushing off the insult.

Kate had a way of making Arthur feel like they had known each other for a lifetime. Since the day she opened up to him about her life, she had been unapologetically honest with him. It was as if she already knew she could trust him with her personal tragedies.

Hosea's words echoed in Arthur's mind, a comforting reminder of the wisdom his old father figure imparted. Hosea simply wanted happiness for him—not wealth in money, but richness in love. He wanted Arthur to find purpose and meaning in life, to share that journey with another soul.

As Kate's needle deftly worked the thread through his skin, Arthur felt a warmth bloom in his chest. Kate's words eased a heavy burden, if only momentarily. 

He shrugged his shoulders slightly, summoning the courage to speak. “Well, I’ll say this. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with a lady who can hold her own,” he began, his voice laced with sincerity. “You’ve got a strength and beauty that’s hard to come by. I think it’s pretty admirable.”

Kate giggled softly, the sound sending a warm flutter through Arthur’s chest. “Thanks, Arthur. First time I’ve heard that in a while,” she replied, her eyes meeting his.

Arthur marveled at how he had summoned the courage to kiss her the other night, feeling as if he could barely face her now. Yet, if she leaned in to kiss him at this moment, he knew he would succumb to his desire, despite what he had told her before. She lit a fire in him.

“S’true. You’re the prettiest girl in the whole damn holler,” Arthur said, unable to hide the light chortle that escaped him.

Kate leaned closer, her breath tickling his neck as she whispered, “You have quite a sweet side, Arthur. I adore that about you,” her hand lightly squeezing his arm.

His heart swelled, and Arthur knew this was the moment. He needed to tell her, despite the nerves that threatened to overpower him. Hosea may have been right; she had stayed by his side despite everything. But as he searched for the words, unsure of how to broach the subject, his nerves got the better of him once again. There was never an easy way to say it. Just the memories of them alone felt like acid in his throat. 

Kate took a step back, placing her tools down on the back of the wagon. “I reckon I’m about done stitching this. Try to stay out of the crossfire next time, yeah?” She teased, holding up his bloody shirt with a knowing look as she handed it back to him.

Arthur felt a pang of regret. “Wasn’t my intention to get shot,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. He slipped the shirt over his shoulders, tugging the sleeves down his arms.

“Nobody intends to get shot,” Kate mused, taking a step back to give him space.

Turning to face her, Arthur was struck by the sight of her eyes, a sadness that mirrored his own that evening under the moonlit sky when they kissed. His heart throbbed at the sight. Since the day he met her at Emerald Ranch, she had a welcoming presence that drew him in, along with a deep sorrow that resonated with his own. It was as if she knew him before she even met him.

He looked down, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I appreciate your help, darlin’,” he murmured. Then, letting out a deep breath, he added, “though, I really don’t deserve it.”

Kate brushed off his self-doubt. “Don’t fuss over it, Arthur. I’m here whenever you need a hand,” she assured him. “I think you should get some rest though; from Sean’s stories, it sounds like it’s been a long day.”

Arthur nodded silently, watching as Kate bid him farewell and faded back into the night. His heart silently begged, please don’t go. But she was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts under the blanket of stars.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate lay beneath the star-studded sky, her eyes fixed on the milky purple and white swirl above, like celestial clouds in motion. Her heart echoed the rhythm of hooves against her ribs. Thoughts of Arthur filled her mind, his presence vivid in her thoughts.

The image of his body lingered before her, along with the stories he shared about himself. A longing surged within her to reveal how beautiful she found him, to explore him with kisses and her wandering hands.

Patience wavered as a persistent ache in her belly reminded her of the closeness she craved. Intimate moments with Arthur kindled her core, igniting a blaze of desire. Each quiet, vulnerable encounter with him deepened their connection. Funny how his true colors always showed when he was alone with her. 

Kate smiled to herself, feeling a rush of desire she hadn't known for what felt like a century. As good as she was on her own. She felt like life had finally granted her an anecdote to her lonely heart. 

---

AN: Phew, its out there. I know that was pretty dialogue heavy, so I hope I didn't bore you guys. Next chapter is going to be a long one, and may take me awhile. But it will be worth it, I promise!

As always, thanks for all the love!

[little-paperboat]

What We Owe To Each Other (2&3)

HELLO ROLAN NATION

I come bearing gifts for the very patient readers and to make amends for my three-months break, namely 7,000 words split into two chapters, a fight, a hug, and lots of emotional rollercoasters.

I am very sad that it took me so long to finish this part of the story, but I am very relieved that it's finally out - I can now focus on the main story and bring more Tav and Rolan into everyone's lives. I'm not too sure when I will be able to post next, maybe in a week or two, but I will let you know. You can follow the tag “series:forbidden fire” here on tumblr to not miss when it comes out! :)

In the meantime, a little sneak peek under the cut, as usual.

It's good to be back :)

Read on AO3 (2 & 3/3)

Read Part 1: Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle (2/2)

Read Part 2: Through Shadows To The Edge Of Night (3/3)

If the sun failed to rise today, Rolan didn’t think he’d care.

It was still dark outside when he woke up from another sleepless night; his body sore and aching, heart barely beating anymore, the overwhelming bitterness of desperation the only tangible proof that he was still alive.

His fingers grazed his cheekbone and he flinched at the pain, a sharp hiss leaving his lips. If Lorroakan kept beating him like this, he’d surrender his last breath before the next tenday.

Another day meant another torment, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to simply take it. To say, yes master, sorry master. To keep up the charade, to pretend that he couldn’t break Lorroakan in two by snapping his fingers. Day after day he felt it: his magic growing, pulsing; yearning to break free and to flood every cell of his body. It would surge and soar, a blinding wave of power that would annihilate everything around him, calling the Weave to his aid so intensely that Mystra herself would have no choice but to command him for it. A part of him feared this— if the dam were to break, he’d be pulled under the tidal wave too and would drown in it, overwhelmed. But a part of him craved it: to tame the storm and to unleash his rage, to ride the high of his wrath and take revenge on the tyrant.

Rolan had never been a violent man. Truth be told, he despised violence: one should know how to behave. To resort to fists was most unbecoming of a wizard and any self-respecting gentleman: if he ever fought, it was out of utmost necessity - to protect his siblings, or himself. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he had had a few altercations back in Elturel, but there had been no other choice. Once to defend Cal from a vengeful human who assaulted him, blaming the Descent on his infernal heritage. And before that, when he had been a child himself with no one to look after him. The memory of brutality he experienced back then had never fully disappeared, even after so many years; faded but never forgotten. Now, it was back in full force, and in him stirred a dark, maddening urge to burn.

He sighed, anxiety tightening his chest, his unsettling thoughts adding to his unrest. Mornings like this, he wondered what was the point of it all; to walk out there, take the spot that he hated so behind the wooden counter to let the world see his shame, for his master wouldn’t let him heal nor conceal. If they ask, you’ll tell them the truth: that you are a careless, worthless apprentice who should learn his place before he can pretend to learn real magic.

The humiliations blended together: fresh bruises replaced the older ones, and the light in his eyes dimmed with every rising sun.

But surely he could endure a little longer.

Just a little longer. For Cal. For Lia. To show them he was brave, to prove to them that he would still make it.

With a groan he got up, taking off his nightclothes with care to not reopen the wounds on his ribs. Despite his pain he refused to give up and kept putting on a set of respectable nightclothes after sunset, out of principle, because it still mattered to him. Whatever was left of his dignity, he had to preserve it.

Yes. He could endure a little longer. If anything, because Tav had asked him to.

Tav.

Annoying, meddlesome, infuriating Tav, who showed up out of the blue to turn his world upside down once again.

Frustrating, vexing, obstinate Tav, who couldn’t take “no” for an answer and bent the rules of the universe to do as she pleased.

He used to think he hated her; now he couldn’t remember why. But maybe it would be better if he still did, for hate was such an easy emotion to feed and such a great outlet for all his sorrows. He could never do that anymore though; not when she was the reason why he was still alive and his family too. Not when she had been so kind while he had been so rough, not when she had made a point to prove him wrong twice. Not when she had planted the seeds of hope back in his heart, to which he held onto with all his strength with a desperation he didn’t know he had.

A few days, at most.

With every sunrise he waited to see her walking back in the shop, fierce and proud, with her signature shit-eating grin and that lovely pout of hers.

Back for him, somehow, to save the world and his sorry self at the same time.

But every sunset dashed his expectations. How long were a few days supposed to be?

— Read the rest on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika