ju-mo

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse! Let me tell you, I’ve had this mini series outlined for months, but now I thought it was finally time to get to it. If you’re not tired of the Break Me Down world yet, I very much hope you enjoy Wake Me Up.

**As a reminder, this story is set shortly after Love Actually, and will contain references from that three-part story. 

Song Inspo: For this whole series it’s “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers. (I pretty much listened to this on repeat.)

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Starting off strong in this one: with mature themes, show level violence, angst, kidnapping, PTSD, mentions of torture (not too graphic), and character death.

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 1: “Familiar Territory”

The start of a new year continued a steady rhythm for you and Ben. Namely, another successful mission for the Supe Affairs team.

While you were patched into the team’s communications line from the safety of your desk back at the S.A. headquarters in New York, your friends were a few states over in Denver, Colorado. They’d just arrested a supe that had been committing a series of bank robberies by literally slipping away from the police, thanks to his particular superpower.

“Somebody better get this shit off of me,” M.M. groused.

He wasn’t too happy about some questionable ooze this particular supe secreted as a defense mechanism. According to Frenchie’s research, it was the same shit that certain frogs could produce to repel predators.

“Need a good hose down, more like,” said Butcher. “You smell fuckin’ foul.”

“Like Satan’s ass crack,” Ben remarked.

You couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement.

“Let’s just get the fuck outta here,” M.M. said, his tone all surly, as per usual. You didn’t envy his plight.

“Good job, guys,” you said, to change the subject. “Now it’s just a short flight back to New York.”

“No layovers this time. I’m not being paid to rot in a fucking airport with a bunch of mouth-breathing assholes and their screaming brats,” Ben said.

Charming. You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips when you imagined his taciturn face.

“Okay, your majesty. I’ll make sure it’s a nonstop flight,” you said. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

That last bit, you said with a hint of more behind your words. You drummed your nails on your desk and crossed your legs underneath it. A week was a long time for you and your boyfriend to be apart, and you’d been missing him.

“You better be,” Ben said. His voice was deep and cocky. He was smirking, you were sure, and you knew that he’d understood you perfectly well.

“Anybody else hearing this blatant foreplay?” Hughie quipped.

“I sense cheeks will be cracked tonight,” Frenchie muttered.

“Ugh!” you heard Annie shudder.

You knew she supported you and Ben, but you also knew that she didn’t want to hear about the gushy details. You laughed through your embarrassment. 

“Okay, guys. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” you said, before you officially signed off. 

You grabbed your purse that was stowed away in a desk drawer, fished out your cell phone, and you called Ben’s cell. He picked up on the second ring.

“Yeah?” he said. 

“I love you,” you said with a smile. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” he replied. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

You pouted. “Come on, say it.”

“Say what?”

You sighed. You knew he was being deliberately obtuse.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

Part of you was upset that he didn’t say it back as often as you liked. God forbid Butcher and the others hear him express his affection for you.

But you supposed you understood that any kind of vulnerability was difficult for him, especially in front of others. As much shit as you gave him, you also knew how to pick your battles with Ben.

“I told you. I’ll see you soon,” he said.

You once again tapped your nails, on your armrest this time. After a moment, you relented.

“Okay, baby. Have a safe flight,” you said, even if you were still frowning.

When Ben hung up with you, he let out a deep sigh.

An entire week with these juvenile cocksuckers was almost too much for him to fucking take. While he often felt your presence with you on the comm line during the actual mission, and the occasional phone call on long nights in between, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.

He was ready to go home.

The flight itself was fine, though dealing with civilians and the tiring experience of a long-ass flight made him even more antsy to land. Because even when they got to JFK, he still had a hired car waiting for him to drive him from the airport to get to Scarsdale, and to the apartment he shared with you. It had already been almost a year of you two living there, in a three-bedroom spanning two floors.

Ben hadn’t thought he would get used to such a small place, but it was all right. It had become his home, far more than the penthouses and party mansions ever were, at least.

When he finally got home and unlocked the front door of the apartment, he stepped into darkness. All the lights were off.

Odd, he thought. He called your name while he shut the door behind him, then flicked on the foyer light. He realized then that he hadn’t seen your car in the driveway. Were you still working? It wasn’t unlike you to get caught up with the paperwork and other logistics after a case.

After a quick look around of each room, from the kitchen to the living room, Ben knew you hadn’t come home yet. A frown marred his face.

He went upstairs and entered the bedroom next. He unclipped his wrist guards and took his gloves off first, followed by loosening the collar of his supe suit. The bed was made, untouched since this morning, he was sure.

Then he noticed the scrap of paper resting on his pillow. He picked it up, and his brows furrowed as he read.

By the time you find me, she’ll wish she was dead.

Ben called Grace Mallory first.

When she didn’t answer, he called Butcher next. Ben’s hand shook the slightest bit while holding the phone up to his ear.

“Evenin’, guv,” Butcher answered with a tired sigh. “What’s this about—”

“We have a fucking problem,” Ben growled.

Ben pushed the limits of his Mercedes Benz while driving himself to Supe Affairs.

The others met him there in a conference room, except for Grace, who was on an active case at the moment. There Hughie and Frenchie tapped into the S.A. security footage on their laptops. 

They eventually found you getting into your car in the S.A. garage, about four hours ago. Then two later, the street cameras picked you up somewhere in the Village. Ben recognized the street. 

You probably had dinner with your friend Yvette and her family, but you intended to make it home on time to meet Ben when you left around 9:00 p.m. 

You had parallel parked at a meter on the street. According to the footage, it looked quiet and empty when you headed back to your car. 

You were stopped by someone before you could get the driver’s side door open. It looked like a man’s height and build; he grabbed you by the shoulder and threw a punch you managed to dodge.

You put up a good fight, but you were eventually knocked out with what looked to be a crowbar, at first glance. When Hughie zoomed in, it was actually a black baton. Ben watched it all with a deepening frown. Anger churned in his gut and ignited his blood as he watched your unconscious body being hauled into a black SUV.

“That looks military-issued,” M.M. said, pointing at the baton that the suspect used to hit you.

Butcher nodded, and also noted the man’s fighting style. “That’s a professional.”

“He would have to be, to take her out,” M.M. said, glancing at Ben. “And the timing. They knew you were coming home. That note was personal, besides the fact that they were casing your place…they’ve probably been watching both of you, waiting for the chance to get the jump on you.”

“The question,” Butcher said, “is who the fuck would wanna tangle with Soldier Boy that badly?”   

“Shit. That’s a laundry list, isn’t it?” Hughie said. M.M.’s glance told him to shut the fuck up.

Ben was silent, but his fury was mounting. His head turned sharply to Butcher.

“Get Mallory on the line. Now,” he barked. When no one moved quick enough for him, his temper snapped at its thinly held leash.

“I said right fucking now!”

Slowly you blinked your eyes open. For a moment, you were seeing in double vision. It soon cleared up to reveal dark, damp, musty surroundings.

It smelled familiar; after that mission to find and subdue Sapphire a couple of months ago, you’d recognize a New York sewer anywhere.

Fuuucking shit, you thought with a groan. Your head was aching. You felt a trickle of blood down the side of your neck, and you found yourself in a familiar position—seated on a metal chair with your hands secured behind your back. Your restraints felt like zip ties.

“You finally with us, sweetheart?” asked a man. His voice was smooth and commanding.

“Jackson, I don’t know about this,” whispered someone else. Another man, though he sounded slightly younger, reminding you of Hughie.

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” Jackson snapped.

At least you had a name. He stepped into the light that came from a couple of small lanterns. One was propped on top of a bucket by the wall. The other was on a plastic fold out table that you saw a few feet beside you.

The man who stepped into your line of vision was tall, maybe around Ben’s height, if just shy of his build. He was blonde, just like his skinnier friend. They shared some notable facial features and coloring, but while Jackson’s eyes were dark brown and self-assured, the younger man’s were blue and apprehensive. If you had to guess, they looked like brothers.

“Nice digs,” you remarked, gesturing with your gaze at your surroundings.

Jackson rose a brow, crossing his arms.

“You’re taking all this pretty well,” he said. 

You huffed humorlessly.

“This isn’t exactly my first kidnapping,” you said.

He quirked his head and drew closer.   

“All right. Well, since we’re on the clock, let me tell you why you’re here,” he said. He bent down in front of you so that his face was level with yours. “I need you, sweetheart. You’re going to tell me how to bring down Soldier Boy. How to kill him. How to end him. Then maybe, I’ll let you go without gouging out those pretty eyes.”

You stared back at Jackson with an expression that didn’t change.

Then you spat in his face.

And you expected the hard, back-handed slap that made your head whip to the side. It rattled you for a moment as you caught your breath, but you recovered enough to lean back in your seat. Your eyes met Jackson’s directly after he wiped his face with his shirt. “Tommy” stood off to the side behind his partner. He’d looked away when you were hit.

You focused on the other man, Jackson. He was wearing black cargo pants to match his boots, and a belt with a gun on his hip. He carried himself like a trained killer.

“Military, government agency, or private sector?” you asked.

His head tilted. He studied you, just like you were studying him.

“None of the above really,” he said. “Not anymore.”

He walked over to the fold out table, where he grabbed a black bag and unzipped it. A flash of silver gleamed as he pulled out one sharp instrument after the next. You had to hide your apprehension, and fear that made your insides tremble.

He glanced over at you.

“Let’s get started,” he said.

Hours later, you were teetering on the edge of consciousness.

After the last hit, you spat a wad of phlegm and blood onto Jackson’s shoes. He rotated the ache out of his hand. He looked down at you through furrowed brows.

“Damn, bitch,” he said, catching his breath. “You can take a hit. I’ll give you that.” 

“My dad was a Marine, numb nuts,” you managed to reply, through labored breaths. “He used to hit harder with his open hand than all the strength in that limp-dick wrist of yours.” 

Jackson smirked. “Christ. Daddy issues, huh? Why doesn’t that surprise me.” 

You gave him a droll look. Again, to cover your fear, because you weren’t willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

Angered and frustrated by that defiance, he reached down and grabbed your neck and jaw with one hand. You winced at the force of his grip, but when he started squeezing, this was the one thing that made you truly whimper. You tried not to think about the ghost of your father’s hand around your neck.

“Don’t you get it, asshole?” you gritted out while struggling for breath. “You can’t kill him. No one can. Stronger, smarter people than you have tried.” 

Moments ticked by while Jackson contemplated your words. 

Then he released you. You sucked in gulps of air and tried not to cough out a lung.

“Maybe,” he said. “But Soldier Boy’s got a weakness. If anyone knows it, I’ve got a feeling it’s you.” 

You can’t say anything. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 

That had been your mantra for every minute you had spent in this hole. You shook your head.

“Look, Jackson.” You sucked in another breath to steady yourself, and blink a drip of blood out of your eyes. “He’s going to kill you. You and your brother. Take your family and run, while you’ve still got a chance.” 

“…You know what? You’re probably right,” Jackson said, scratching the back of his head with his crimson-stained hand. “But I just realized something.”

He leaned down again, until he was level with your face.

“When he finds you, drowned in your own goddamn blood…I think the look on his face might just be enough for me.”

Your eyes widened. 

It took days. Three painful days to pick up the threads, which led closer to home than anyone could’ve anticipated. 

Grace Mallory put pressure across the chain of command, and even reached out to the FBI for assistance. An alert email finally came to her phone, and she realized that an agent on her own payroll had been flagged for never reporting back for his debriefing on a reconnaissance mission.

That agent was Jackson Rawlins.

The further she read into his file, the worse her frown became. She immediately sent the lead to Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team to run down. For the first time in years, Grace actually prayed.

She prayed that they would reach you in time. It wasn’t until then that she realized it; she hadn’t thought of you as a cog in her system for some time now—not even as leverage against Soldier Boy. She was genuinely concerned about you.

Grace worried that she was setting herself up for disappointment…if it was too late. However, she also worried about what would happen if you didn’t survive. She considered how Ben might react, with that nuclear power within him that he was still learning to control. The consequences of this mission could very well be catastrophic. 

You were losing track of time in this windowless pit. You knew it had been days, but you didn’t remember how many. The cellar was cold, and the way sound and air traveled, it felt like you were underground. It certainly smelled like it—damp and gross. It made you certain this was a sewer.

Now this is Satan’s ass crack, you thought. You winced at the pain that radiated…pretty much everywhere. Blood had dried from various lacerations across your face, neck, chest, and arms, and bruises were dark against your skin.

Your blouse was in tatters, and your jeans had bleeding rips as well, though at least he’d kept your ankle boots on. You were too weak even for hunger. And a large, heavy chain attached to manacles on your wrists had replaced the zip ties. One end of the chain was fastened between the wall and a line of plumbing.

Footsteps echoed down the hall behind you. You closed your eyes and steeled yourself.

“Are we actually gonna have a conversation today?” Jackson asked.

“Depends,” you replied, your voice dry and coarse. “Are you going to tell me why you hate Ben so much?”

An angry sigh escaped Jackson’s lips. He pointed up in frustration.

“Ben.” Jackson rolled and cracked his neck, like just the mention of your boyfriend’s real name was disgusting to this man.

“You talk about him like he’s a real fucking person. Not like the animal supe he is,” he said.

“He is a person,” you said, both in exhaustion, and in pain. “And he’s trying to be better. Look, he’s done terrible things. I’m not saying he hasn’t. I don’t know what he’s done to you in the past, but—”

Jackson shut you up with a sharp backhand. It made black spots encroach on your vision as you caught your breath.

You noticed his brother Tom come in the room as well, to watch and worry. He didn’t seem comfortable with this way of things. He looked like a civilian. Maybe you could use that to your advantage…

But you lost track of thought after that, when Jackson started in on you with either his hands, or the creativity of the instruments on the table nearby. 

You tried to block out the pain, along with his questions about Ben. If you couldn’t talk about him, you couldn’t let yourself think about him. So you couldn’t say anything.

Not about the Novichok nerve agent, one of the few things that had been found to incapacitate him. Not his imprisonment by Vought or the S.A.—nothing that your captor could one day use against Ben.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

Even though all you wanted right now was him. 

Ben, please…

You zoned in and out of consciousness from there.

When you next registered being awake, mercifully, you were left alone. You raised your head when Tom came to blot at least some of your wounds and give you water. You’d only eaten small pieces of protein bars for days. 

“I’m sorry,” Tom whispered.

“Why does he want Ben?” you wheezed. “Why are you going along with this if you’re so damn sorry?”

Tom looked up at you with pain and grief in his blue eyes. He sighed and dragged a nearby chair from the table. He sat beside you while he fed you half a protein bar. It was a struggle to even get the pieces down.

“Last year,” said Tom, clearing his throat. “I lived in the building that Soldier Boy blew up when he got back from…wherever the Russians had him.”

Your eyes widened as you processed that. “You…but you made it out. Why—”

“I wasn’t home. I was at work,” Tom said. His voice was pained as his eyes became red and glassy. “Our mom wasn’t so lucky.”

You sighed, closing your eyes.

“She was retired, and I was taking care of her,” Tom said. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed. “Jackson wasn’t here. He was on a mission in Colombia. Told me he was cleaning up some cartel shit.”

At that, you had a sneaking suspicion that coiled in your gut. Ben had left a bit of a mess when he peaced out of Colombia, with an entire plane filled with drugs and weapons from whatever cartel he’d infiltrated. (In his words, he’d cut the head off the snake.)

Grace told you she’d sent a team in to handle that mess…

“Your brother—who does he work for?” you asked. Though you had a feeling you knew the answer.

Tom seemed to read your understanding, and his face turned grim.

“The CIA,” he said.

Fuck, you grimaced. So not only had Ben been responsible for their mother’s death, but Jackson had been part of the team that cleaned up his mess in South America. It explained why Jackson was somehow able to find your information; Supe Affairs had become a subsect of the CIA, thanks to Grace. 

“I didn’t know he was planning this. I swear to God. All he said was that he had a way to get at Soldier Boy,” Tom said. You let out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I really am,” you said. Tears welled up hot in your eyes. “But you need to let me go. For your own safety, believe me.”

You saw the guilt, the sadness, the regret on Tom’s face. The brief indecision was overtaken when he glanced down the hall. You knew then that he was more afraid of his own brother than he was willing to do the right thing.

Your tears spilled over, though you tried to breathe through it. You’d tried to save them for when you were alone, those seldom few, cold hours, but you were reaching your breaking point.

“Okay, before I go, do you have to use the bathroom?” Tom asked. There was a bucket in the corner, and Jackson preferred it away from the chair. It was the only time Tom was allowed to unchain you from the wall and let you stretch your legs.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, you nodded in agreement. It was humiliating to know you were going to have to do this yet again, in a bucket, with company. With the manacles still on your wrists, he brought you over to the “special” corner.

Tom sighed and looked away to give you some semblance of privacy.

That was when you used every scrap of energy you had left in you.

You grabbed the chain and yanked it out of his hands long enough to wrap it around his neck from behind. You cut off his sounds of strain and kicked out his knees, so he was forced to kneel on the ground.

You wrapped the rest of the chain around your thigh, giving you the leverage you needed to tighten your grip and choke him out, until he was unconscious. His body fell to the side, and you heaved for breath. Once again, there were black spots in your vision, but you did your best to blink them away.

Now set with determination, you made your way to the plastic table and searched for the key to your chains. After the manacles were unlocked, you rubbed at your raw wrists and rapidly scanned the room. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you calculated which way you should go to try and escape.

There were three possibilities in this clearing under the sewer: left, right, or straight ahead. Every time Tom or Jackson emerged, it sounded like it was behind you. The chair was facing to the east, which meant you had to take the left tunnel.

You ran in that direction and tried to find a metal ladder that would take you to whatever manhole cover these guys had detached. Someone couldn’t just open up any of those iron plates without the right tools, from the inside or the outside.

You walked as fast as you could manage, even though your entire body protested in pain. Then finally, you saw a black duffel bag lying on the ground, against the wall. Next to it was a metal ladder that went all the way up to the top.

“Jackson, don’t!”

You heard Tom’s voice, but you felt the presence behind you too late. Jackson hit you in the back of the head with that damn baton, so hard that even he grimaced at how the sound echoed on the walls. You crumpled to the ground.

Jackson stood over you with a grim set to his face. He turned to his brother with a shake of his head.

“She’s a walking welt, and you couldn’t handle her?” he said.

“This is too much,” Tom said in worry. He bent down and held two fingers to your neck. He still felt a pulse, at least, but when he felt behind your head, he found blood. His hand shook as he stared at it.

“If you didn’t want in on this, you should’ve said so from the beginning,” said Jackson. He spun the baton in his hand and clipped the hilt to his belt, from a small metal loop on the end of it.

“You didn’t say anything about…about this!” Tom argued. He cleaned your blood off on his jacket.

Jackson regarded his brother with disappointment, and he hefted you up into his arms. Tom followed him back to their setup with your makeshift prison. There Jackson left you lying on the ground, and chained you back up by your wrists for good measure. He then literally and figuratively wiped his hands of you.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” he said. “For good this time.”

Tom looked at you, then his brother in shock. There was even emotion in his eyes.   

“We’re leaving her to die,” he said, his voice unsteady. He knew then, that their mother wouldn't have wanted this in her name. If she saw both of them now, she wouldn't recognize them.

Jackson grabbed his younger brother where his neck met his shoulder. An iron grip.

“And what do you think Soldier Boy is going to do if he finds us?” Jackson asked. His gaze encouraged Tom to explore that reality for a moment.

Jackson nodded at your unconscious form. “Trust me, that bitch was never going to talk. But this is almost better.”

It wasn’t right, Tom thought. He knew it, deep in his heart, but he wasn’t strong like his brother, or even like you.

That was when they heard it. The rumble of engines dying and tires rolling overhead, dislodging a few stray pebbles and dust from the ceiling. Jackson’s eyes widened. 

“Fuck!” he muttered. “All right, let’s go.”

Jackson forced his younger brother to leave the sewer with him, and leave you chained up on the floor.

Ben, Butcher, M.M., and Frenchie had done much of the legwork in tracking down Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom (with help from Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie of course). Frenchie had found your likely location with a powerful thermal scanner, courtesy of Grace.

Now, they’d driven up to the wide alley in the city and blocked off all the exits on the block. Ben was the first to get his boots on the ground and stride toward the point of entry, where according to Frenchie’s scanners, more than one body was holed up in the sewer. He held his shield at his side and at the ready when the manhole cover loosened, and slid open.

A small gas bomb rolled out towards his feet, but it was just tear gas, not the kind of thing that could actually affect him. Ben picked up the little round ball of metal and crushed it in his hand. While the rest of the team dove for the oxygen masks stored in the car, Ben stalked forward.

Seeing the silhouette of a man, Ben threw his shield hard enough to rattle a supe.

Jackson Rawlins was thrown clean onto his back with a force that stole the breath from his lungs, even through his gas mask. It also broke half a dozen ribs. Ben was soon bearing on top of him and ripping off the mask.

Jackson cried out as remnants of the tear gas seared his eyes.

“Got us a runner!” Butcher shouted. He intercepted and grabbed up a second man who tried to escape. Tom Rawlins wasn’t the threat, but he still wasn’t going free. M.M. and Frenchie also dove down into the sewer to try and find you after they got their gas masks on.

Meanwhile, Ben hauled Jackson up by his neck and walked him back until he hit the brick wall beside a nail salon. Jackson grunted in pain. Every breath he took was now agonizing, thanks to his now battered and broken ribs.

“Where is she?” Ben demanded.

Jackson actually laughed in his face, despite his now bloodshot eyes.

“All you fucking supes are the same,” he said. “But you…you’re the worst. Quite literally, the original asshole. And what does the government do? What does the world do? Gives you a pass on decades of indiscretions, fuck ups, and straight up murder.” 

Ben didn’t outwardly react, but he knew what Jackson’s problem was. He knew he killed the man’s family. Collateral damage—something that had caused Ben more than one argument with you in the past.

But he didn’t care.

He didn’t care, because all he could see in his mind’s eye was a metal bat hitting the back of your head and knocking you clean out. He saw you being taken against your will. Taken from him. And that, he couldn’t abide.

“Where. Is she?” Ben said, as his grip flexed around the other man’s neck. It would be easy. Easier than snapping a toothpick. And he warned, “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself.”

“Dead, probably,” Jackson spat, despite his red and bleary eyes. “Real tough bitch. I see why you’re fucking her…I had me a little taste myself.”

In that moment, Ben couldn’t compute.

His green eyes widened. His breath stilled.

Then his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth were grinding. A fire in his blood and behind his eyes, and fury that burned hot in his chest, almost giving it that nuclear glow.

His hand tightened and choked any salacious words Jackson might’ve spewed out next.

“He didn’t!” Tom shouted out. He was being restrained by Butcher. Ben glanced at them out of the corner of his eye.  

“He didn’t touch her. Not like that,” Tom said. He looked sincere.  

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” said his older brother. 

It earned Ben’s attention back. Jackson had the look of a man who knew he was going to die either way.

Ben’s lips curled into a sneer. He took the man’s head with both hands, and slowly crushed his skull. The scream echoed between Ben’s ears, but he was only satisfied when Jackson’s lifeless body dropped at his feet.

He turned to the other Rawlins next.

Tom had screamed as well to watch his brother’s life ended before his eyes. He now stared straight into Soldier Boy’s, pleading wordlessly for his own life. Ben started toward him.

“Please,” Tom said. He tried twisting away from Butcher, who held firm to the man’s arm. The Brit knew all too well, the rage that Ben had in his blood.

“Ben,” Annie tried, and she even stepped forward. Butcher held a hand out against her with a knowing look. It wouldn’t be wise to stand in the way.

“Hey!” M.M. shouted up from down the open hatch of the sewer. “We found her! Need help getting her loose.”

Ben paused in his steps. Tom was shaking, lips trembling, petrified.

Tilting his head, Ben let out a subtle breath through his nose. He began to turn back toward the sewer.

At the last moment, however, he drew his gun and shot Tom Rawlins between the eyes. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Annie and Hughie flinched, but Butcher and Kimiko weren’t surprised in the least.

Meanwhile, Ben made his way back towards M.M.’s voice, and into the sewer. He heard M.M. and Frenchie arguing about first aid and head wounds, the further in he went. Ben’s dark mood blackened even more along the way.

Once he reached them, he also reached you, held in M.M.’s arms as he cradled your head.

You were unconscious with your wrists locked into heavy chains. The furrow between Ben’s brows deepened, but he got down to his knees beside you and first, broke your chains. He guided you out of M.M.’s arms and into his own, making sure to support your head. Blood was already staining his half-glove and fingers.

It was then that he noticed the small crimson pool lying where your body had been, likely from the wound he could feel at the back of your head. Ben’s mouth trembled the slightest bit, mostly in anger as he drew himself back onto his feet. Your body was littered with bruises, cuts both shallow and deep made by what looked like a blade, and God knew what else.

“I had me a little taste myself,” Jackson had taunted.

No, Ben internally shook that thought from his mind. No, you hadn’t been touched like that, at least, according to the sniveling, cock-sucking brother.

But can you trust that little cunt’s word?

Ben briefly closed his eyes, pressing his lips to your forehead. He continued walking down the hall and towards the light and fresh air of the world above.

You’re gonna be just fine, he promised you, if just within the safety of his mind.

Yeah, you would be all right.

He was going to make sure of it.

AN: 🫣 I'm sorry...BUT, I can promise it will get better (eventually). First, it's going to get worse.

Next Time:

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well trimmed.

His head soon raised, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

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@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine telling Luffy about why you don’t like Shanks…

“Why are you always so upset with Shanks?” Luffy wondered.

You brushed the young boys damp curls and twirled a finger around each strand to define the shape.

“He and I used to travel the seas, you know? We fought sea beasts and all kinds of pirates together.”

Luffy leaned forward. “Really? Was it cool?”

“Very cool and dangerous.” You reminded him with a small hair ruffle to set him back on the chair properly. “We were caught in an ambush and I was injured. Shanks brought me home, promising that we’d set off again after I was healed.”

Luffy grew excited. Maybe if Shanks came for you, he could also be taken along for the journey.

“Are you healed? Do you know when he’ll take you?” He asked.

You frowned and replied rather bitterly. “I was healed up over four years ago.”

Shanks had the audacity to pay a visit these last few months and spend time with Luffy while pretending like nothing had happened. It infuriated you and Luffy clearly caught wind of it.

There was a knock at the door. Your eyes darted up to see Makino standing there with a smile for Luffy.

“The ship has made port.” She told the boy.

Luffy jumped off the seat and ran for the exit. “Sorry Y/n, I have to go!”

You sighed at his speed hoping that he’d be careful on his way to the docks.

Makino looked at you while you put the chair away. “Are you coming as well?” She asked and when you didn’t reply she continued. “He’s been asking for you.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Tell him I-”

“I’m not telling him you drowned again. You’ll have to face him one way or another.” Makino said and then left to resume her duties at the bar.

Honestly, you’d rather not seek out the pirate who abandoned you. Let him have his fun. Yes, you couldn’t avoid him forever but you could reduce the hours in his presence.

And so that’s what you set out to do, you walked wherever the straw hat wasn’t. If he was at Party’s Bar, you were at home. If he was at the docks, you were by the furthest windmill.

You last saw the red-haired pirate downing a bottle of booze at the bar with his little curly haired shadow on the chair beside him. While they were busy, you decided to rearrange the furniture in your home finally able to tend to things that had been long neglected thanks to Luffy always running in and out of trouble.

Fixated on stacking books by the corner of the front room, you missed the soft padding of footsteps coming to a halt by the open door.

“I heard you ‘drowned’.” A voice said, sending chills down your spine. “Imagine my surprise when Luffy told me that you did his hair this morning.”

Shanks mused at you as he stood by the threshold of your door.

Damn, when did he leave the bar? You rolled your eyes and then turned around to place a blanket into a wooden drawer near to where he stood.

“Odd.” You hummed. “I thought you would have welcomed a lie? Aren’t you filled with them or is that only when they’re directed at me?”

Shanks stepped into the room and took your hand to stop you from walking to the next task. He knew exactly what you were referring to. For months you both had avoided the topic by the way you dodged him but this was finally the opening he needed to clear the air.

“I never lied. I fully intended to come back here in three months. But each danger I faced, every terror that sailed into our path and all I could see was the risk of losing you.”

You scoffed at him. Captain Shanks of the Red-haired Pirates was scared? You were surprised his nose hadn’t grown.

Not wanting to talk further, you attempted to leave the house entirely when the man who stole your heart caught you once more.

“Hey,” Shanks took the reins and guided you to the wall, gently bracing you against it. He was tired of the anger of the anger in your eyes, only wanting you to see him like you once did. His hands settled in their rightful place on your waist.

“There are very few things that I am afraid of - but from that list, the fear of losing you is at the very top.”

As you stared in his warm eyes, you were reminded of a saying he often said aboard calmer seas and private moments.

Shanks gazed back at your face, the one he was deprived of seeing each day. He brought one hand to rest against your chest and raised your own to sit above his own. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a delicate kiss before pulling away gently.

“I’m not a selfish man by nature.” He whispered. “But for your life and your love, I can be.”

~ More imagines here ~

[qwimblenorrisstan]

The Clandestine Culinarian Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader

Summary: After you’re introduced to his family and move into the House of Wind, you begin training with Azriel as a way to pass time and cope with your losses, but something unexpected happens, and a seed of jealousy begins blooming in another female’s heart.

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: Mentions of blades, family deaths, itsy bitsy angst, nothing too bad.

A/N: I feel like this isn’t my best work but it pulled me out of writer’s block so whatever, lmk if you want a part three, hope you enjoy it <3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

When you woke in the morning, Azriel was gone, probably off to his room, or house now that you thought of it.

You weren’t sure why you expected him to still be there, or why a little bit of you felt disappointed that he wasn’t.

Stumbling out of bed, you found some clothes in the closet that looked like they’d been borrowed from you for the time being, a few dresses and some pairs of tunics and pants. You ended up putting on a simple romper that went down just above your kneecap, a light flowery purple. Your niece would’ve liked it, you thought.

Miraculously, there were fresh toiletries and supplies in the bathroom, and so you brushed your teeth so hard your gums bled, and pulled a brush through your unruly hair until it finally settled down a bit.

After what felt like an hour of trying to smooth down the loose ends, you gave an exasperated sigh and moved on to slip some shoes on your feet. When you were finally all dressed and ready, you looked in the bathroom mirror at your reflection.

You looked…fine. Not overly bad, but the lasting effects of your grief were still obvious in the slight redness of your eyes, or the hint of puffiness in your cheeks where tears had rolled down the night before.

“I’m going to be fine.”

You murmured to yourself while staring into the mirror. You were upset and sad and angry, but the world didn’t stop, and neither could you.

“Y’know, usually when I want to feel good about myself I just go flirt with the ladies, but to each their own-“

A low, brusque but amused voice drawled from the doorframe, making you jump and spin to face him, one hand over your now-racing heart.

“Mother above, you scared me!”

You said, sighing and shaking your head before looking up at the stranger.

Not exactly a stranger, you reminded yourself. The General. You could recognize him almost immediately, his large muscular body, the stubble on his face, and his golden hazel eyes, not to mention the dark black hair that was tied back in a man-bun right now.

He only chuckled at your fright, giving you nothing short of an idiotic grin. A hint of sympathy was behind those eyes, you thought.

“So you’re the lady friend Az brought, huh? Welcome to the family, then.”

He said, not elaborating any further as he slung his large arm around your shoulder and began guiding you out of your room, into what seemed like a dining room. A glimmer of something knowing also lurked in his eyes.

The High Lady, Feyre sat down in one of the chairs, Nyx bouncing on her knee and eagerly shoving a piece of bacon down his throat while Rhys watched and snorted in amusement. Another female, Elain, was in the kitchen, cooking up a large breakfast for the entire family and seeming happy while doing it. Nesta seemed to be helping if only to have a taste of the bacon while it was still steaming hot how she liked it.

“Go have a seat, I’ll have our Elain make you a plate.”

He said, releasing you from his grasp if only to push you towards the table. Before you could manage thanks, he’d already strode off into the kitchen, arms wrapped around Nesta’s waist as he pressed little kisses into her neck from behind.

You hesitantly sat down in one of the chairs, feeling a bit out of place in this family’s home. Feyre and Rhys both glanced up at you, sharing a glance between themselves before she gave a polite nod and warm smile, going back to feeding Nyx.

“Ah. I hope you slept well, at least. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

Rhys said, still glancing over at Nyx and quietly snickering before turning his full attention to you. As you opened your mouth to speak, his expression turned a bit serious, making you pause a moment.

“I hate to tell you like this, but because of the…business, you and your family were running, nothing can be held against Kier or his men. I’m truly sorry I can’t-“

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

You cut him off, feeling bad for it but then going on, watching as his violet eyes almost widened. You knew that nothing could be done from the moment Kier’s men had stormed into the bakery. There was nothing Rhys could’ve done to save them, and nothing you could’ve done either, other than shutting down the business.

“You’re already letting me stay in your home, with your family, and providing for me, so please, don’t apologize for anything.”

You finished. He paused a moment, before giving a slight dip of his head as a nod, that he wouldn’t do it again despite what he might believe.

Elain and Nesta came out, plates in their hands while Cassian trailed behind with another few in his, and they passed them out to everyone, including you. It was a healthy variety of normal breakfast foods, scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, hash browns, etc.

They all sat down and began digging in while talking, and you weren’t about to not follow their example.

“I forget how much of a bitch cooking can be,”

Nesta said, before taking a bite of toast.

“Yeah, guess we are a bit spoiled back home, huh? Living in a sentient House and all.”

Cassian said with that big idiotic grin, nudging her with his elbow as he swallowed. That comment alone made you swirl with questions.

“Sentient House?”

You asked, raising a brow. That only made Rhys chuckle and shake his head.

“Yes, Cassian and Nesta live in the House of Wind. It’s a sentient home right off of Velaris, on the border almost.”

He replied, a smirk on his lips.

“Don’t forget Az, he’s quiet but he can be a menace when he wants to be.”

Cassian said with his mouth full. Nesta rolled her eyes and swatted him for talking with his mouth full, at which he dramatically acted like he’d suffered a fatal wound.

“You don’t know the half of it. Once he rearranged my entire personal bookshelf in reverse alphabetical order. It took me an entire day just to sort them back out.”

She said, huffing just at the memory alone. You couldn’t help the little bit of genuine laughter that escaped your lips from that.

“What did you do to piss him off that bad?”

You then asked, and Nesta smirked, clearly enjoying thinking about what she'd done to poor Azriel.

“I gave them some money and told them to go have fun. They ended up winning a jackpot that Azriel had to go claim the money for. You should’ve seen the owner’s face when he realized that the shadows had won, I don’t think the shadowsinger has set foot in that place since.”

She said, and Cassian began laughing at that alone, while Rhys and Feyre snickered, and Nyx began giggling and babbling over a hash brown. Cassian’s face went thoughtful for a moment before he glanced up at you.

“You know, you could start training with Az maybe. It’s sort of a custom for our newcomers to start training.”

He said, glancing at Feyre and then at Nesta, who both raised a brow at him. Elain then spoke up.

“He’s always on missions, though. Wouldn’t the inconsistency make it useless?”

She asked in that annoyingly innocent tone, almost like she was a child trying to please their mother with how dainty and sweet they were. You didn’t know why it annoyed you as much as it did, the fact that she knew his schedule, and was actively discouraging you from spending time with him.

“He’s not on too many, things have settled down since the war ended. I think it could help keep your mind off things, too.”

Rhys said with a little nod as if confirming this.

“It’d be more practical if you moved to the House, then. It gets a bit too quiet sometimes, so we wouldn’t mind.”

Nesta said with a shrug, studying you intently for a moment before going back to eating her breakfast, halfway on Cassian’s lap already.

“I’ll ask Az after breakfast, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Cassian said, before shoving another mouthful of fried egg in his mouth, at which Nesta cringed and gave him a look, playfully disgusted.

*********************************************************

“You want me to what?”

“Train her, just in the mornings like what I do with Nesta and her friends. It'll get her mind off of things.”

“Cassian, you know that I can't commit to that with my work-”

“I think you're just scared of females.”

Cassian retorted, in the most serious tone he could manage while Azriel gave him an incredulous look, annoyed.

“I am not scared of females.”

He said firmly, glaring at his brother.

“Oh yeah? When's the last time you've had a hookup?”

Azriel’s mind went frustratingly blank at that. He huffed, before replying.

“I don't see how that's relevant.”

Cassian let out a hoot of laughter, only making the crimson blush creeping up Azriel’s neck progress further.

“See? You are scared of females. Are your nightmares haunted by the sight of pussy?”

Cassian said, making his voice quiver on purpose with his last sentence, making a little ‘oooooh’ sound as if a ghost were haunting Azriel. Azriel only scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fine. I'll train her if you'll stop tormenting me.”

He said, a begrudging resignation in his usually firm and cold tone. Cassian gave a grin of triumph, clapping his brother on the back as he walked past him.

“Good. Treat her well, she's been through a lot.”

He said, before walking out and leaving Azriel alone in the cold office he owned in the House of Wind.

*********************************************************

He seemed to have snuck into your life much faster than you'd expected him to.

You’d moved into the House of Wind, which hadn’t been difficult given your lack of actual things to pack and move, and very slowly adjusted to living in a sentient House.

It still scared the shit out of you when the bath would randomly start running at the perfect temperature, with all the oils you loved, at the exact time when you were thinking about how much you’d like a bath. Or the times when perfect meals would show up, both healthy and also satisfying your specific cravings, and how the House almost adjusted to fit your needs every time, providing you with everything you needed, clothes, entertainment, food, water, and more.

The training was a different subject, though.

You still could barely do the stretches Azriel tried to work you through. His lithe, muscular body could pull it off flawlessly, which you supposed was a given for someone who had centuries of practice and experience. Most of the time, it only succeeded in you being sore and aching in the mornings, and that was how it went for what felt like years, though only a month had passed.

There was one thing you particularly enjoyed about your training, though.

“Like this, your arm should be hooked around, but not depending on it too much..”

His voice was quiet but strong, confident, and sure as he always was in his silent way as he guided you. His own muscular body, donning no shirt, performed the same exercise you were supposed to be doing, and mimicking poorly.

You couldn’t help but be distracted by the winding tattoo that seemed almost alive as the rising sun cast an orange glow of light against his body, creating a perfect contrast and mixture with his already-tanned skin and midnight hair. Not to mention the light purple color that was projected onto the ground through the thinnest parts of his wing’s membrane, the sun casting light against it as well.

Azriel had grown closer to you in the month you’d been around him, and you’d noticed him observing you intently as if to catch every little habit and quirk about you. You’d been watching, too, seeing the way his fingers might twitch if exposed to the cold, or how his wings fluttered ever so slightly when a cool breeze went by, and all of the things he tried too hard to conceal and lock away.

“…”

You snapped out of it, seeing him watching you with a blank stare, only a glimmer of suspicion and curiosity in his dark hazel eyes.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

You said, shaking your head to get yourself back into the headspace of training, where you could forget your grief and sadness, and become something new, something freer and unbound.

*********************************************************

Azriel knew he was pushing it when only one and a half months into your training he slowly began introducing you to swordplay.

He didn’t give you a real sword, over his dead body would he provide a real weapon to a beginner, you had to earn your steel, but for now he gave you a worn wooden one. The same one Nesta had used when Cassian had started training her.

You’d seemed unsure about it, but accepted it without complaint, as you seemed to do with most he did these days. He had caught himself several times, the lingering glances, his hands ‘accidentally’ brushing against your waist, the sparkling heat in his veins when he saw you in those tight Illyrian leathers, trying to obey him and go into the positions he showed you.

He was wondering if you’d caught him, though he already knew the answer.

It was nearly impossible to resist the urge when his shadows screamed and cried silently out for you when they tried to shove you two together and force him to confront you with his suppressed feelings and desires. He’d never felt them so strongly attached to someone other than himself before, and it made him a bit uneasy.

However, it all came to a climax when today, for what felt like the hundredth time, he knocked your wooden sword to the ground and had you pinned beneath his gaze, but this time, his sword against your neck, hands holding you down, something different happened.

*********************************************************

It felt like a warmth blooming throughout your entire body, as if someone had lit the butterflies in your stomach on fire and they were now exploding and popping, sending waves of heat and shock throughout your being. Though you didn’t know what was fully happening, your instincts did.

Azriel stumbled back as if he’d been hit, staring wide-eyed at you, and as you opened your mouth to speak he immediately disappeared in a flurry of shadows and darkness, winnowing somewhere.

Training was over for today, you assumed, as you tossed your wooden sword to the ground in the training ring and walked inside, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, and why he’d seemed so utterly shocked.

You knew he had his eyes on Elain, helping her harden and cook and spending time with her and seeming all too happy about it while training with you seemed like pulling teeth to him.

You tried to shake it off as you headed back into your room to decompress in a hot bath.

*********************************************************

Mate.

The word had hit him like a brick at that moment, and the next thing he knew he was hiccuping and sobbing, mumbling out words to Rhys in his office.

His brother held him close, not questioning what he said for now and just listening.

“She’s my mate, Rhys, and I don’t even think she knows it, but I don’t..how am I going to tell her? She doesn’t want me-“

He’d sobbed into Rhys’ shoulder, his brother quietly shushing him. It had been too long since Azriel had cried, centuries almost, and this had just broken the dam and let the flood tear through his body. The shadows seemed agitated as they swirled around the room, poking and prodding at the furniture and whatnot.

“It’s okay, Az. One step at a time, just breathe, okay? Take a deep breath, and let’s calm down.”

Rhys said in the most soothing, soft tone he could manage, one usually only reserved for Nyx and sometimes Feyre if she was lucky.

However, unbeknownst to either of them, a third person listened in. A female who’d had her eyes on the shadowsinger longer than that new girl thrown into the mix. Elain Archeron believed she was a far better match for Azriel’s stoicism and reserved nature, only she should get the privilege of seeing behind those stone walls he’d built up. A feeling of twisted jealousy and possession curdling in her sweet, loving heart, unlike anything she’d felt before.

That new girl suddenly being Azriel’s mate? That wouldn’t do.

Not at all.

Tags:

@lilah-asteria

@evangeline-xo

@hayrunnwr

@rcarbo1

Part 3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Thanks as usual for reading.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Things don’t become comfortable, but familiar. You get into a routine, one which smears the days and nights into the other. The landscape helps with that. The sun is fleeting, even in July. The days are longer but it’s not anywhere as stifling or humid as New York. Like everything else, it’s different. 

The man at the fish place, Frederik, knows your name. His wife, Inga too. When you walk in the door, they put your order to fry before you even get to the counter. They’re friendly and warm. It’s nice to have some smiling faces when you can hardly muster the same.  

They like to ask you about New York; they’re finally planning a big trip to America after twenty-five years together. They remind you of Marigold and her bakery. You long for one of her eclairs and her chatty demeanour. Just another thing to miss. 

As you sit down at a table near the window to eat in, your phone goes off. You answer as you read Sam’s name across the screen. He’s the only one you’ve talked to in the last month. Nearly two now. August is close. 

“Yo, yo, girly pop,” he sings from the other end. 

“Girly pop? Sam,” you chide as you hover a thick cut fry before your mouth. 

“Chicky poo, nope. Girly pop, nope. I’ll get there,” he teases, “finally got a hold of you.” 

“Uh, yeah, the site is far. No signal,” you shrug and take a bite. 

“I know, I'm just needy,” he kids. “So, you hitting the spa? Summer’s going fast.” 

“Not yet,” you swallow. “Sam, there’s a lot of work here and it’s just me. The only help I get is from a local student volunteer and they do three hours a week.” 

“Oof, why does your work sound so boring?” He groans 

“Hey!” 

“Well, I mean, digging up dirt all day, tell me you’re not going mad. You making friends? No one to cool, I hope. I’m still your number one guy.” 

“Not really. It’s tough. Long hours. I don’t know,” you stare out the window as you toy with the bamboo fork.  

“If you were going to hide all day in a hovel, you could’ve stayed in New York,” he sighs. 

“Sam, I’m trying. Really. It’s... It’s going to take some time.” 

“Right,” he agrees grimly. “Time. A year is not that long.”  

You hum and lean back in the chair. You’re not as hungry as you were. You close up the container and stand. 

“I know, alright?” You sniff as you tidy the table and grab your food, “but this isn’t a vacation.” 

“It’s also not a missionary trip,” he retorts. “I’m not tryna be a dick here, I’m helping. You need this.” 

You push out into the street and cluck. Silence. You don’t know what to say. He’s right and just like ever day, the conversation is the same. Over and over. It’s going to drive you crazy. 

“More sunlight this time of year, good for work--” 

“No more work talk,” he interjects, “if you don’t got anything fun going on, I'll just have to make you jealous. Some good old fashioned FOMO. Hm, me and Bucky went to Jersey.” 

“Jersey? Why?” You take the bait, happy for the distraction. 

“Oh, yeah, I told him there was a vintage bike for sale there.” 

“You told him that but...” 

“There wasn’t. I just wanted to see him interact with the locals. The old ladies love him but the men... well, I think he might have a warrant out now.” 

“No, Sam, what the hell?” You exclaim as you stroll along. “Are you trying to get him killed?” 

“Hey, I got his back. Just like I got yours. It was just a prank.” 

“Wait, Sam, where exactly did you take him in Jersey?” 

“Some cribbage club, I don’t know. I saw a page for it online. Thought he’d fit in--” 

“They were old?” 

“They match his energy,” he snorts. 

You can’t help but laugh. It feels good. Just that little bit of home. Your amusement is dampened as your heart sinks. You really were so stupid. You didn’t see what you had all around you; Bucky, Sam, more than just Steve. Now it’s all behind you and going back won’t be the same as before. 

💟

There’s tension in the air. It’s going to rain. You suspect your day will be cut short by the gathering clouds but your persist. No use in running. Again. 

The last time you left in fear of a storm, it waited until the next day. So you sit, boots set in the dirty, hunched over as you carefully trace out the strange lump. It’s more than sediment. Bone but not a skeleton. Likely animal and bent into some tool. You have to be delicate. It’s not like the movies, you can’t just dig your hand in and rip it out. 

Your earbud drones as a retro R&B playlist keeps your mind at focus. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove, feeling the flecks of dirt cling to your skin. You ignore it and press on. Just a little more, a little more. 

It’s bigger than you expect. Just as you think it might come free, you find it goes further down. You can make out the jagged break and the hide wrapping at it’s base. A spear of some sort.  

You roll your shoulders out and put your tools down on the open role. You peel of the gloves and reach for the tall insulated bottle of water. You gulp, your throat cooling nicely at the flow. You cap the bottle and clear your throat, listening to the silence of the mountain. 

Yet it isn’t quiet. You glance around at the subtle scratching, a strange tapping across the ground. It could be vermin. It’s not unusual to disturb a nest of one thing or another on a dig but they usually leave early on. 

You put the bottle down and shove your hand back into a glove. A puffy breath comes over the scratching. Several breaths in quick succession, as if there’s something sniff. You keep your other glove in your grip and stand. Your legs are so cramped that your steps are stiff and stunted. 

As you search for the source, there’s a yipe and a fuzzy shape catches your eye. You tilt your head, thoroughly confused at the barking beast. You’re not certain that chihuahuas are native to Norway. At least, you wouldn’t assume so. 

The ashy blond dog has longer fur along its ears and chest and a white bolt down its chest. You can tell it isn’t wild despite its behaviour as it is finely groomed and wears a bright red collar. You approach the fence as it hops, stopping only to try to dig beneath with its dirtied paws. 

“Hi, buddy,” you near the eager dog, “how’d you get up here?” 

You stop just across from the dog and poke your fingers through the fence. It stops, you think a ‘he’, and sniffs your fingers. His cold nose tickles you and you wiggle until you can pet his head. The little thunderbolt emblem on hiss collar peeks through his mane. There might be some information there. 

“Thunder!” The booming voice sounds like the very thing it decries, “Thunder, you pest, where’re you off too?” 

There’s a crunching of soil and rock along the mountain pass as the dog growls and barks again, turning to face the skewing of a towering shadow. You watch in shock at the approach. You didn’t think there was life so far up. That or someone has chosen a rather treacherous hiking trail. 

The dog, you assume ‘Thunder’, bounces back and forth in anticipation of his own, calling to him with his pitchy yaps. The man appears around the jagged rock and you feel the air knocked from your chest. You slowly reach to take out your earbud and tuck it in a pocket.

Wow. You blink to make sure it’s real. To be certain this isn’t some trick of the mind or this ancient land. Maybe the gods are real here. 

He’s tall and broad and handsome. His canvas jacket does little to conceal his muscular build as his jeans are snug to his thick thighs. You think he’s even bigger than Steve. You wince at the reminder of the man but it quickly flits away. You can’t ignore the man before you with his golden tresses twisted back into a low bun, stray strands wisping forward to frame his stony jaw and stormy blue eyes. 

You stand gaping through the fence as the man flinches in fright. His gaze meet yours and his cheeks tinge pink as he gives a crooked grin, “ah, Thunder, my darling, you’ve found a friend.” 

He whistles and the dog lunges forward. He picks up the chihuahua, their size difference almost comical as he cradles him in one arm. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can barely think.  

You snap your mouth shut and clear your throat. Work. That’s what you should be doing. 

“Hello,” the man nears the other side of the fence before you can move away, “I’ve been wondering what this is all about. The signs...” he points with his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh,” you peer around as if lost. You sort of are. “A dig. Er. Grant,” you stammer out. You take a breath and still your mind, “I work with an archeological society in New York. We’ve been sponsored by your national board to exhume this site.” 

“Ah, yes, makes sense,” he lowers his brows thoughtfully as the dog squirms in his hold, yiping and biting at his sleeve. “Forgive me, she is rather uncouth.” He raises the dog higher and she wiggles in his arm. You see it now, definitely a pampered girl. “This is Thunder. She lives up to her namesake, eh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you give a brittle smile, unsure. 

“Thor,” he dips his chin down, “I live just up the pass.” 

“You do?” You wonder curiously. “All the way up here?” 

“Oh yes, if you saw the old haunt, you might just want to dig that up too,” he jokes. “We usually go up the pass, towards the river.” 

“The river?” 

“Yes, you mustn’t stray far from here,” he remarks as he raises a hand to lean on the fence, only to nearly tip the unanchored grating. “Oooh, apologies,” he rights himself with a laugh, “anyhow, it is nice to see a new face around here. Better to have a name for it.” 

“Right, uh,” you offer your name and giggle nervously, “it’s just me on-site, guess I forget my manners.” 

“Not to worry. As the resident mountain man, my etiquette does lack,” he winces as Thunder chomps on his thumb knuckle, “eh, you monster, alright.” He holds her up and she pokes her nose through the fence, “she loves new people. Not so keen on the old.” 

“She's cute,” you scratch her nose and she licks your fingers. “Not exactly a native species.” 

“Who knows where she came from? Found the little dragon in the woods. Suppose someone left her there. She was covered in mud, so small I though she was a bloody toad,” he muses as he brings her back against his chest and rocks her, “it was only her thunderous barks which told me otherwise, isn’t that right, darling?” 

He makes a kissy noise at her and her fluffy tail wags wildly against him. You smile more genuinely. It is nice to have another living thing around after digging up the broken and dead for so long. 

“So you’re from New York?” He asks abruptly, his blue eyes rolling over you like a tide. 

“Yeah,” you utter breathily, “yes, New York.” 

“You’ve been here a while?” 

“Couple months,” you shift and twist your glove. 

“Wonderful, and you’ve done much exploring? You must live in town.” 

“About three hours,” you point towards the gravelly road, “haven’t had much time for sightseeing but I found a good fish shop.” 

“A shop? That’s no good. We catch our own fish, fry ‘em up over the pit,” he says, “that’s the way we do it up here.” 

You nod, “sounds fun. Well, er,” you turn halfway and look around, your eyes skimming up to the cloudy sky, “I should probably hustle. Looks like rain.” 

“That it does but it won’t be ‘til midnight,” he assures. 

“You think it’ll hold out?” 

“I know so,” he affirms and lingers by the fence, trying to see past you, “what exactly are you uncovering over there?” 

“Not much so far,” you pull on your loose glove. 

“You must know what this place was. A raider’s camp.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mm, yes, the raiders would camp upon the pass away from those who might come ashore, then go off themselves to find a coast to reap,” he explains. 

“And how do you know all that?” You ask as you tramp back to your place in the dirt. 

“Suppose some of my ancestors camped here with them,” he offers casually, “for so long as we’ve been up here. Once the viking scamps settled, they had to find a home somewhere. Some fellow named Agmundr or another built a stone house further up.” 

“Admundr? Family?” You prompt. 

“Distant,” he assures, “been some time and that stone house is now a foundation.” 

You get down to your knees as you grab your brush and peek over at him, “thanks for the information. I’ll have to add it to the land report. Have them crosscheck in the archives.” 

“Not at all. You won’t find it all on your paper, you know? We carry or history on our tongues here.” 

“Sure,” you say as you bend over the spearhead and start again. 

“You don’t mind if I watch? I always did love history and I’ve never seen a proper dig before.” 

“Not much going on, I’m afraid,” you shrug, “but if you want.” 

“Thunder will have a tantrum if I go,” he chuckles, “she likes you.” 

“Hm,” you scoff, “she is very outspoken.” 

You set your eyes on your task but can’t shake the awareness of your audience. It’s not too unusual. There were a few digs you did early on in the heart of the city and people loved to ogle you. This is different. Just the two of you. A stranger even. Friendly as he is, you’re happy for the fence, even if it is rather flimsy. 

“Those bones aren’t for you,” he says to the dog as she wriggles in his grasp. “Let’s find a stick then, you little pest.” 

[potatomountain]

CIY- CH 9

Chapter Nine

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍word count: 3.3k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: mentions of mxm relationships and death. depictions of violence

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer, @yessa-vie and edited by the amazing: @daesukiii

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It wasn’t until the click on the lock resounded in your skull that you realized you were now in Hongjoong’s office, standing awkwardly before his desk still trying to wrap your head around what you just saw. He was quiet, only the sound of his breathing indicating that he was behind you: deep inhales and shaky exhales. 

Swallowing hard and licking your dry lips, you managed to call out. “Captain…?” It was all you could manage because where exactly did you start with the questions? Hell, what even were your questions?

“I know. Fuck I know.” Grumbling he moved around you and leaned back against his desk, head slumped forward. “I would ask you to ignore the things he said, but we both know that’s not going to happen. You’re too stubborn.”

Hongjoong had been neither welcoming nor unwelcoming until this point, seemingly giving you orders just to keep you busy or because that was his job, but really you couldn’t figure out the enigmatic Captain. You knew he valued the opinion of his team, the Vice the most, and that he would do things without an explanation and they all just trusted him enough not to ask. But you were also well aware some things that had been said just didn’t add up to what you expected a unit like this to run: maybe it was more so that it was things your unit would never say or do.

The sudden thought was jarring, a frown pulling at your lips. You shouldn’t be thinking about them when they weren’t your unit anymore- and they proved the way they did things was just not for you either.

Was it any better here?

Before you could dwell on that question, Hongjoong continued. “To answer one of the questions I know is in your head: yes we do have sexual relations with each other in the unit. Did you think I, or San for that matter, flirted just to do so?”

“To be honest, I refused to give it much thought.” You replied dryly, still reeling a bit. To think they would be open about sex with each other? Not only coworkers, but other men. How were they so open minded to such concepts but were so adamant about not needing you or welcoming you? Hell, Jongho continued on a daily basis to remind you that he didn’t like you. Did they think you were going to judge them?

Did they think you were going to be such a priss about it?

One glance at Hongjoong and you relaxed: of course, they thought you were. These men were a tightly knit group, and you were an outsider forced upon them. They trusted each other, now realizing on a much deeper level than you suspected, and they didn’t want you a part of that.

That shouldn’t hurt.

“But it’s not really my business is it? It’s not like you’re making me watch, nor forcing me into the same boat. Who you all fuck is really not my concern.” You clarified, attempting to ease the frown on his brow. 

It just deepened, your name tumbling from his lips. “We know it’s against regulations and policy-”

“And? You think I’m going to tell anyone? Would make me a fucking hypocrite, probably.” You scoffed.

He tilted his head in confusion. “Thought you didn’t do anything with your last unit?”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.” You fixed him with a hardened stare. “Not that they would’ve done anything, they are so adamant about following the rules. And I’d rather you not press. That is what you want to tell me, isn’t it? Keep my nose out of it as much as I can?”

His eyes widened a bit at your attitude, shaking his head as he stood up. “That’s not- fuck. You seem upset about that.”

“Why would I be upset?” Okay, the way you snapped it out definitely said you were. Trying to take a deep breath, you shut your eyes for a moment. “With all due respect Captain, I’m not here to get close or be nice; I just want to do my job and help where I can. One unit has already kicked me to the curb, I would rather that not be repeated, so you can rest assured I won’t do anything to draw the board’s attention. It would be the word of a troublemaker against yours anyways, and that is a battle not worth my time. So if you want me to keep my nose out of your personal life, so be it. Is there anything else you wanted to say?”

Opening your eyes to his mouth hanging open wasn’t what you expected, but the lack of immediate response was enough of an answer for you. “Very well, I’ll take my leave.” You turned on your heel with a hardened expression, reaching the door quickly and stumbling with the lock.

The door was slammed shut before you got to open it far, Captain’s hand holding it shut while the other caged you in. Again he muttered your name, breath fanning against the back of your head telling you just how close he was. You attempted to ignore the way your heartbeat skyrocketed, and the heat that tinged your ears.

“Yes, Captain?” You breathed out in response, hand still on the handle and not moving.

“I didn’t bring you here to warn you to stay out of it… I’m offering to give you an explanation to any questions you have.”

His tone was sweet, soft, almost pleading… and it disarmed you in a way you didn’t like. “I don’t have any questions right now, Captain. I’m still trying to process all that happened.” The questions that did come to mind weren’t ones you believed he could answer- no he wasn’t the one you wanted to ask. “When should I expect field work?” You asked instead, turning your head slightly and breath catching in your throat.

Hard to ignore how gorgeous he was when his face was right there.

“I’ll talk with Seonghwa, we’ll figure out how to implement you into the field and then Wooyoung and San will brief you before you go. Give us a few days to put it together, alright firecracker?” His thumb was on your chin, turning you a bit more so you were more face to face.

You felt almost hypnotized by how soft he was, the touch solidifying that even more for you. “A-alright Captain. What should I do for now?”

“How about you head home for the day and just relax? Go over your notes or go to the shooting range downtown? One of the others can go with you?” He ran his thumb just under your lip, gaze dipping before a second before locking onto yours. “Would you like that?”

“Maybe. I’ll take the day off then.” You weren’t sure you wanted to be here anyways. Not without looking at all of them and trying to figure out who fucked who. Wooyoung’s earlier comment about the Captain and his office got to you- maybe that’s why you were so easily swayed by him right now?

He hummed lowly, dropping his hand and stepping back. “Good girl. Don’t worry about the rest. Go on.” He stepped away and leaned back against his desk, giving you ample space to leave.

You were too flustered to do anything but nod and leave. Didn’t even glance at the others, just headed for your desk.

San, the ever knight-in-shining-armor rushed after you though, calling your name.

“Yes?” Still feeling a bit dazed, you glanced up at him, chest tight as you were reminded of his injuries. “You didn’t have to run after me.”

“You don’t look okay, I was worried.” He looked you over, bringing his good hand up to your forehead and frowning. “You look like you have a fever but you're not that warm.” 

“San- I’m just overwhelmed, please.” With much more calm than you were feeling, you reached up and grabbed his hand off your head. “I need to know though… about Wooyoung-”

“It’s just physical, I promise.” He interrupted, almost panicking. “He shouldn’t have- that wasn’t how- fuck I’m sorry you-”

You cupped his face, stopping his ramblings. “It’s okay, I’m not judging you or anything Sannie. Just… surprised. It’s… it’s just a lot to process. I knew you guys did things differently, I just didn’t expect this I guess? Don’t think this changes anything.”

He softened into a pout, bringing his hand to cover yours. “You fit in so well here sweetcheeks, I wish you knew that.”

You smiled wryly, pulling your hands away. “I don’t think I do. I’ll see you tomorrow, get some rest, okay?” You patted his uninjured shoulder as you passed him, not giving him a chance to prove you wrong as you rushed out the door.

You didn’t even grab your coffee.

San returned to the back to see that chaos was one thin string away from exploding everywhere. Hongjoong stepped out of his office and fixed Wooyoung with a glare as he advanced.

“W-W-Wait a second Captain! We can talk about this- ngh!” Wooyoung scrambled back against his desk, just to be yanked forward by the collar. 

“What the fuck was that? Huh Detective? Did you forget you are part of this fucking unit, that you are technically working as a policeman?” Hongjoong gritted his teeth, nearly throwing the man to the floor. “You nearly fucked up a little too much!”

Wooyoung tumbled to the floor, grabbing his glasses that had fallen in the process. “None of you told me about her!? What the fuck did you want me to do?”

“Keep your mouth shut!” San was the one to belt the words out, stepping over to his partner and planting his foot into his side. “Instead you just rambled and ranted in Wooyoung fashion. How the fuck does she know you as Mito? She wasn’t supposed to know!”

Yunho pulled San back, taking note of how pissed he was. “She should’ve been gone before you got back.” He winced when San shrugged him off, putting distance between him and the others.

“Then why isn’t she? Will someone explain to me what the fuck I missed and why you’re getting all huffy over a broad that ‘should’ve been gone’? Huh?” Wooyoung looked around, spotting Yeosang and relaxing a bit. “Sangie?”

Yeosang fixed him with a slightly colder stare than usual, tension in his jaw. “You should’ve asked instead of questioning how none of us fucked her yet. She’s a detective, not one of the women your mother- you’re used to being around.”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes as he pushed himself up onto his knees. “Were you about to bring my mother’s work into this?” His voice was dangerously low, the already heavy tension growing in the room.

Yeosang seemed just as taken back by his own words, shaking his head and glancing down at the drink in his hand. Wooyoung took notice, then glanced at San who was still watching him with a fixed glare. With a look of understanding, he stood up. “Got it, fine. Anyone willing to fill me in? Or do you want me to continue trying to fuck her?”

The way San straightened just confirmed Wooyoung’s suspicions. But it was Hongjoong that answered, arms crossed over his chest. “She was forced to transfer from her old unit. Higher-ups approved her transfer here-”

“Let’s be honest, they were hoping she would throw us off.” Jongho spoke up, reminding them he was there as he put his gun back together. “And at this rate, she will. Some of you are getting too fucking buddy buddy and that’s going to blow everything we worked for if she digs too much.”

“Well if she is going to blow it, Wooyoung just gave her plenty of ammunition. Should we move up our plans?” Yunho chided in, standing up and stretching. “Mingi and I already set up the bait like you asked. It’s only a matter of time before it’s taken.”

Seonghwa shook his head. “If she was going to be a whistleblower, I feel like she would have been given an offer by the higher-ups: give them information to tear us apart and all her bad rep goes away. With how much she misses her old unit, I assume they still might give her the ultimatum. What do you think, Joong? You pulled her aside to gauge what she would do with this information.”

Hongjoong shrugged, shaking his head. “Hard to tell. She said she wouldn’t, that she doesn't care what we do. I think she was being honest. You would know better though, wouldn’t you San?” He glanced over at him. “You’ve been with her the most.”

“She won’t. It’s not harming anyone so she won’t feel the need to do anything about it. And if she is offered redemption for information on us, she won’t do that either. She feels pretty betrayed by her last unit for kicking her this way, so she wouldn’t do anything that would cause us harm, despite some of us deserving it.” San snarled at Wooyoung and then glanced at Jongho. “She’s loyal to her own moral code, probably loyal to some of her old unit but she doesn’t feel as if she has to work with them to be loyal. Higher-ups won’t do anything to jeopardize that unit.”

“But the other enemies might. They catch wind of her-”

“Don’t even entertain that idea, Jongho.” San stepped forward.

Seonghwa sighed, sharing a look with Hongjoong. “I think we have to make a decision, as a group. Either way is going to be a risk. We either fight for her to transfer out, or we decide to integrate her.”

A chorus of protests rang through the office, some louder than others. 

“Then we fight for the transfer?”

Wooyoung scoffed. “Yeah no, let me get this straight first. That beautiful woman gets forced to transfer out of her last unit and ends up here because the higher-ups insist?”

“Apparently she requested it because they made her choose- and we are the farthest from her last precinct.” Seonghwa mumbled, indulging the information she had said in their office. “The board and commissioner just pushed it instead of trying for elsewhere.”

“Okay okay- so she is forced to transfer by the unit, the very people she trusted, and was hurt enough by that to go as far as she could from them? Yeah?” He looked around, some of them unable to look them in his eyes. “And it sounded like you all gave her piss poor treatment since she got here.”

“Sounds about right.” Even Jongho looked away, a little guilty.

Wooyoung scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And yet some of you are getting so fucking offended over my talk of having her on my cock- that right fucking there Choi San, you’re obvious.” He pointed at his friend who had stepped forward ready to punch him. “So we are just gonna- what- push her away and break her even more because none of us want to give her a chance?”

The atmosphere felt even more grim as his words weighed on their shoulders.

“It’s not as simple as that- we worked too hard to take that chance!” Jongho stood up, fire blazing in his eyes. “I'm not going to let her problems get in the way of what we already accomplished! So what if she gets hurt? If she can’t trust us or blames us for turning her away? You want her to sacrifice the things we have? Want this to be her life?”

“Jongho has a point- we accepted this, all of us made this our responsibility because of our own reasons, our own choice. We can’t expect her to do the same. Does she even have any ties, Yeosang?” Yunho glanced over at the quiet man, who just shook his head. “She made it personal over a dead kid she arrested a few times? Big whoop.”

San narrowed his eyes on Yunho. “When did you find out about that? It was just Hwa and I-”

“Heard you talking it over with her.” Mingi grumbled next to him, apparently in a sour mood.

Hongjoong cleared his throat. “Then I think you two would find that the most relatable, wouldn’t you? With your own experiences?”

Mingi scoffed, shifting into the chair but Hongjoong continued. “You could’ve been that dead kid Mingi, you know that. We all know that. But officer Jeong-”

“Captain, I know where you are going with this and please don’t. We don’t need you comparing her to my dead fucking father.” Yunho fixed the smaller man with an intense glare.

“Sure we do. If we keep her on, it’s likely she’ll meet the same fate.” Hongjoong was unphased as Yunho slammed his hands on the desk, pivoting on his foot to step away and run his now shaking hand through his hair. “So you agree?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Back to what I was saying! Our options are to force her onto another team, which sounds like she is the type to get in way over her head wherever she is anyways, or take her on fully and let her help. And it seems like you already gave her plenty of ammunition on the green vipers, which, I’m assuming is where her personal vendetta you so graciously mentioned came from? If we’re talking about that newest kid that got killed- who is to say she won’t do what some of us have thought of?”

Several men in the room stiffened, guilty of the assumption. 

San was the first to speak after a drawn-out silence. “She would too. You don’t have to spend much time with her to know she would. Fuck! I don’t like what you’re implying, Wooyoung!”

“I’m not the only one. Right Captain?” Wooyoung smirked at him. “You’re so pissy with me because I forced your hand too soon, but this was your plan? She fits in here, I noticed that and I just met the chick.”

All attention switched to Hongjoong, his own expression impassive. It was a gentle nudge from Seonghwa that had him speaking up. “She’s made incredible progress, even suggesting something we hadn’t thought of. Mentally she is a great detective, and strategist, and would make a valuable asset to the team-”

“You have to be fucking kidding me? You can’t be serious, Captain!” Jongho was the one to slap his hands on the desk now, sneering at him. “Absolutely not!”

“This isn’t just your decision Jongho!” San stepped over to him. “Test her if you want, but she does fit.”

“Maybe on your cock.” Mingi threw out, in an even more sour mood. 

San rolled his eyes. “Fuck you Mingi.”

“Come do it then.”

“QUIET!” Seonghwa yelled out, silencing the room and halting the movements of everyone; even Yunho turned back around to take it all in. “Your Leader was speaking, and you will listen.” 

Hongjoong waited until all attention was back on him. “I’m not saying she knows everything, or be completely involved right away, but she would be a valuable asset. So we bring her in, find a place in this all where she could be helpful but won’t infringe on our other works. A few months, maybe a year, and then we can decide. Either she trusts us, works with us, or we handle things properly. After all… wouldn’t be the first time a cop dies on the job, right?”

With solemn expressions, each one of them nods, calling out in unison “Yes, sir.”

Wooyoung took note of a few things that had him believe it wasn’t going to be so black and white… and he was excited to see how this unfolds.

Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse | @philijack | @lelaleleb | @idfkeddieishot | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames | @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630 | @hongjoongswifefr | @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @bts-army380 | @iwishiwasrichasfuck | @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[bones4thecats]

May i ask for Yor briar! Reader x record of ragnarok, who do you think would fit her the most? (Also she still has anya and she fights for humanity for her daughter and brother)

A/N: I’ve actually tried starting to watch Spy x Family, and from what I’ve seen, it’s really good! So, I’m using what I’ve seen of Yor in this! Anyways, enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🪩 On god, he was upset about this

🪩 He isn’t fond of Humanity and we all know this, they gave him headaches, but hearing Heimdall’s constant rants on the contestants was a close second in causes

🪩 He watched as their representatives, Cheranbog and Belobog, step out and form out of black and white smoke

🪩 Then he heard Heimdall yell out your introduction;

“ And welcoming one of the most well-known assassins throughout history, the Thorn Princess, better known as, Y/N! ”

🪩 You stepped outside in your classic outfit, a black dress with your hair mostly tied up and your weapons drawn

🪩 There were only two things left on his mind, why are two gods going against one human and why are you so pretty?!

🪩 Belobog and Chernabog chuckled at your facial expression, it was fair and non-threatening compared to those of Lü Bu

🪩 Once you landed the first hit against them, he was on the edge of his seat

🪩 Now, he was hoping you would win, just so he could actually speak to you

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💐 Much like Shiva, she is not fond of Humanity, as they were destroying everything beautiful on Earth that she worked to keep nice

💐 She was just wondering around Valhalla one day when she heard a young girl laughing

💐 She turned around and saw a young, pink-haired girl with green eyes stroll up to her and reach out to shake her hand

“ I’m Anya! What’s your name? “

💐 Aphrodite smiled and shook the young girl’s hand before giving Anya her name and a flower crown she had made

💐 Anya smiled and yelled out to her mama, you, and she saw as you, the human who had just fought against Belobog and Chernabog, run up to scold her on leaving you without anyone watching

💐 Looking at you, she noticed you were one of the few humans who seemed to care for the planet during life, putting in effort to make sure the flowers stayed healthy

💐 Smiling at you and chuckling as the young girl tried escaping your grip, she made sure to remind herself later to speak to you, she had some questions for you

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

📯 He met nearly every contestant in Ragnarok, or at least had spoken briefly to them so he could get some bare info for their introduction during battle

📯 When he first spoke to you, your brother was helping you put your hair up while your daughter laughed in your lap, telling you a joke she had heard from Sasaki earlier

📯 Seeing your smile made him laugh, normally when preparing for battle, the Humans were training and keeping their composure

📯 You were the opposite, and he liked it

📯 At first, he thought that your brother, Yuri, was your husband, and for some reason he was quite saddened

📯 Maybe it was because Buddha had taken his horn earlier, maybe something else

📯 When doing your introduction, anyone with feelings could see how his voice seemed to be laced in more happiness when mentioning you attacking the two Slavic deities, Belobog and Chernabog

📯 After the battle was over, he had helped escort you and your fairly injured body to Brunhilde, Göll, and Kojiro Sasaki to carry you to heal

📯 He needed to check on you once the day’s battles were over, he can’t let his new favorite human go without his presence for long, now can he?

[lovelyney]

─────DATING THEM !! INAZUMA GUYS──────

CHARACTERS: ayato, gorou, heizou, itto, kazuha, thoma.

SCENT: headcanons

WARNINGS: hickeys (gorou, heizou, kazuha) and making out (heizou.)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯2022 !! #©LOVELYNEY

꒱₊˚ 𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎 !! 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄

𖠵𝟎𝟏: I like to think Ayato is a combination of a gentleman and a sadist.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: On one hand, he likes to see you struggle and plays with you (harmlessly) because he finds it cute and entertaining.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: And on the other, given the nature of being the head of the Kamisato Clan and taking care of Ayaka, he’s also incredibly warm and gentle.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Before you two started dating, Ayaka would always tease him about marrying you.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: He wanted to keep your relationship a secret from the public to save you from any nasty rumors. However, one day while you two were simply taking a walk together (you weren’t holding hands or anything), someone tried to whisper something behind your back sneakily, and Ayato had it with them and just kissed you right then and there to prove them wrong.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: He’s quite territorial and does not like sharing you.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: It’s hard to decipher the next you’ll see him with how hectic his schedule is.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: “(My) darling,” “(my) love,” and “honey.”

❝Darling, are you home? I know I said I wasn’t scheduled to return til’ next week, but I already feel so bad leaving you alone for such a prolonged period. So, I’m going to work harder and faster to return to you sooner. It really is the least I can do, my love.❞

𖠵𝟎𝟗: He always asks Thoma to look over you for him ;; the ginger, of course, doesn’t mind (:

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Whenever he’s away for long, he’ll write you long letters on how he’s doing and how much he misses you.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: If he sees something that reminds him of you, expensive or not, he’ll get it for you in a second.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Decided he was going to marry you the second he saw you.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: He is perfect husband material, y’all.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Really wants to start a family with you ‹//333 He’s waiting for work to settle down before consulting with you.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Whenever you two get into arguments, you’ll always spend extra time with Ayaka and not even spare him a glance.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Ayaka is very excited for you to marry him, by the way !! She couldn’t be happier that you’re the one taking care of her dear brother. Expect to go wedding shopping with her when the time comes.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Given your relationship with him, people know not to bug you, but some people purposefully do so just to grab his attention.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Ayato is a very pretty man which means there’s lots of stares. If you ever doubt yourself or his love, expect a very long and heated make-out session.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: He’s a very loving and passionate man both in bed and out of it !! He’s very domestic when it comes to romance, pushing aside his sadistic tendencies, BAHJSJ.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Escorts you anywhere and everywhere in public.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Surprisingly clingy and pouty when you aren’t giving him enough attention, LMAO.

꒱₊˚ 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔 !! 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑

𖠵𝟎𝟏: The goodest of good boys !!

𖠵𝟎𝟐: Initially (and kinda still is) was incredibly shy and awkward.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Besides that, he’s very considerate and loving !! He makes sure to look after you whenever he can.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: You are the only person who’s privileged to pet his ears and tail !! But be careful; he can and will revoke your privileges if you abuse them !!

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Please save this poor boy from Yae Miko’s teasing ‹//333

𖠵𝟎𝟔: (↑) You can confirm that he does like to hug his tail when he’s sleeping, though !!

𖠵𝟎𝟕: He keeps his and your relationship usually to himself unless directly asked about it. He isn’t ashamed or anything; he just doesn’t want the soldiers to know that he’s a cuddle bug at home; LOOOL.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: “Lovebug,” “honey/hon,” and “sweetheart.”

❝Welcome home, lovebug! You’re home later than usual; did something happen? Why do you look so upset? Ah. . . Just a worrisome day, huh? Do-Do you want me to draw you a bath? Y-You look like you could benefit from some relaxation. . . A-And I can join you if y-you’d like. . .?❞

𖠵𝟎𝟗: If you have a pet and give it more attention than him, he will pout. How dare you pet something that’s not him ??

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Tries his best not to get jealous because he trusts you. However, if he sees someone getting too close, he’ll hug you from behind and stare down the opposing person.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: One of his favorite cuddling positions is when he’s resting on top of you. You’re the best mattress he can ask for ‹333

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Has a nose of steel so you can’t go hiding any injuries from him !! Expect to be scolded if you try.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: If you two are out training together, he’ll always be sure to keep an eye on you to ensure you’re holding up okay.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Isn’t the greatest with words, but his arms are always open to you if need the additional comfort. (:

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Probably isn’t as innocent as people make him out to be.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: A biter !! One of his favorite things to do is leave love bites down your collarbone. His teeth are also pretty sharp, so they leave a hell of a mark.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: If he wants your attention, he will get it. Sometimes, he’ll sit in your lap and nuzzle his nose against your neck or start sloppily kissing it to gain your attention.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: He’s completely smitten by you ‹33 You are the love of his life without a doubt.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Talks about you with so much love that it’s incredibly obvious how obsessed he is.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: His ears always perk/twitch at the mention of your name.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: He hates leaving you so early in the morning or late in the night whenever he has night watches ): Expect to be sleeping in the days he isn’t working.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: Seeing you in your uniform for the first time had his tail wagging like a madman, LMAO.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Loves seeing you absolutely kick ass, LMAO. He thinks you’re the coolest and hottest person ever whenever you beat someone tf up.

꒱₊˚ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔 !! 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐘

𖠵𝟎𝟏: Whoever said Heizou doesn’t open up to many people clearly hasn’t met you !! He’s the one who chased after you.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: He was very flirty in the beginning, so it was hard to decipher whether or not he was just being Heizou or had actually taken a liking to you.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Although, now that he started dating you, he's stopped flirting with a lot of people (much to your request, stop being a manwhore, Heizou.)

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Always takes the opportunity to tease you ;;

sometimes he fails to see that it actually bothers you and feels awful whenever he genuinely upsets you.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Likes to act cocky, but he'll follow you around like a lost puppy when you're not giving him your attention.

𖠵𝟎����: This man is INFATUATED with you and he doesn’t even try to hide it.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: He may flirt with whomever (most of the time for investigation purposes), but if he sees someone flirting with you, then he’s fuming and storming over there.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Keeps a hand on you at all times whenever you two are out together—always gently tugging on your hand if you start to wander.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: “Sweetheart,” “partner (in crime),” “(my) love,” and “princess/prince.”

❝Aw, why the long face, partner? Someone been bothering you lately? Oh? You don’t say. . . Mind giving me a description of them? Hm? Why you ask? Well, that’s for me to know and you to find out, my love.❞

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Always willing to throw hands for you ‹333

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Sara doesn’t know how you deal with him but is only grateful that you keep him in check.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: He has to make out with you at least once “for good measure,” he says. 💀

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Seeing his marks on you gives him a completely different wave of accomplishment, LMFAO. But he also loves to be marked by you !! He wears them with pride everywhere he goes.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: He’s a detective for a reason; you cannot hide anything from him. If you’re not ready to talk about something, he’ll give you time, though.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Sometimes if you have the free time, he likes to drag you along on a case he’s working on.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Will sit you on his lap while he’s working; he claims your presence grounds him and helps him work better.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: One of his favorite things to do is sit you on a counter or desk and make out with you ‹//3 he loves having the higher ground.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: (↑) Another one is carrying you bridal style, especially in public. He doesn’t matter where or why; he just likes feeling like your knight in shining armor.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Will drop whatever he’s doing just to take care of you or comfort you.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Never one to be emotional, but whenever he sees you crying, it breaks him. And if it’s because of him ?? Might as well kill him right then and there ‹//3

𖠵𝟐𝟏: A sly bastard !! He will figure out a way to get what he wants when it comes to you.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: Loves whenever you kiss his beauty marks ‹/3 He has hearts floating around him fr fr.

꒱₊˚ 𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎 !! 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐊𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐒

𖠵𝟎𝟏: The perfect combination of golden retriever boyfriend and himbo !!

𖠵𝟎𝟐: You’re not an ‘official’ member of the group as much as he says you are. However, your role fits in with Shinobu’s! (she greatly appreciates your assistance, LMFAO.)

𖠵𝟎𝟑: You and Shinobu are best friends !! You and her always like to playfully tease him that the two of you are gonna get together. (You always assure him you’d never actually do that, LOL.)

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Such a lovable dork )): ‹3 He never fails to express his love and care for you.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: You can guarantee that each and every member of the gang loves you !! They treat you as if you’re their older sibling (and/or) parent

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Itto loves to carry you on his shoulders !! He is pretty tall, so you always get a lovely view no matter where you are.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Loves to boast about you every and any chance he gets !! You know how he did with Shinobu in Perilous Trials ?? think that but like times 10.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Always asks you to paint his horns so that you can get the places he can’t reach.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: “Baby/babe,” “lovebug/bug,” and “honey/hon.”

❝Heyyyy, honey! I’m baaaack! Totally not from jail. . . What’s with that look for? Listen, listen. I’ll have you know that it was for a totally acceptable cause this time! This punk was saying some bad things about you and—ARGH! It makes me angry just thinking about it! Anyone who has something bad to say about you has to answer to me! No buts or ifs!❞

𖠵𝟏𝟎: He’s protective over you !! You’re such a beacon of light in his life, and he wants to shield that light with every drop of strength he has in him.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: On normal occasions, he’s calm and collected. However, if he hears someone actively talking shit about you or sees someone bothering you, that’s thrown away in a second.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: You have a small little enclosure that you put all the onikabuto he gives you in ‹3

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Hates seeing you hurt or sick; it makes him feel helpless ):

he tries not to come off as worried or panicky, but you see riiight through him.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Finds you incredibly attractive whenever you snap at someone or beat someone (that’s not him) up.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: You know just how calm him down whenever he’s having an allergy attack; he’s very grateful he can rely on you.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: You always go through his food to make sure it doesn’t have any beans in it Sniffs.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: A giant manbaby when it comes to cuddles !! Cuddling with you is his favorite thing to do. Don't tell anyone but he loves to be the little spoon, hehe.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: People look at you two and go “how did that happen?” People thought you were dating him out of pity at first until you very sharply shot those rumors down before they could reach Itto.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: As much as Itto's capable of protecting himself, you're also protective over him when it comes to people talking shit out of fear of him taking everything to heart—only you can tease him.

꒱₊˚ 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀 !! 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐔𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒

𖠵𝟎𝟏: He. Is. Perfect !! Literally. He knows just what to do (most of the time) whenever and wherever. It’s like he has some kind of sixth sense when it comes to you.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: As someone who’s spent his time idling wandering around the nations, he used to avoid being tied down. However, since dating you, he wants nothing more than to settle in a home with you ‹3

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Husband/housewife material !! If you were to want to continue working while he stayed at home doing domestic chores, he’d be perfectly content with that.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Surprisingly (or maybe not?) flirty. Seeing you all blushy and shy because of him complimenting you is his favorite thing.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Whenever you’re heavily injured, his eyes will ALWAYS be focused on the rise and fall of your breathing and your vision. You can probably guess why.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Isn’t shy with PDA in the slightest.

he loves to hold your hand or link arms with you anywhere he goes !! he just wants to have a hand on you !!

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Writes his newest poems about you, then gifts you them with some flowers (“:

𖠵𝟎𝟖: When he introduced you to Beidou, she literally crushed you in a hug and welcomed you delightfully to the Crux.

she likes to ask about you time to time !! always playfully teasing him about when he plans on proposing to you.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: “(My) maple,” “(my) love,” “(my) dove,” “(my) kaze,” and “hummingbird.”

❝My dearest maple, would you mind coming to my side for a moment? Hm? No, nothing’s wrong. Well, with me, at least. Your eyes—they look dull and lost, like a rose that’s about to wither away. Tell me, my love, what’s troubling you? You never have to shoulder your burdens alone.❞

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Likes to recite poetry to you, smiling whenever you drift off simply by the sound of his voice.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: If you ever try to take after him, talking in that soft and refined tone, he will melt on the spot.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: One of the best people you can go to for comfort and advice !! He, without a doubt, will give both.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Being someone who’s often in no rush, he loves to sleep in with you, often tugging you back into his arms if you try and get up before him.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: So so touchy !! He loves to have his hands on you one way or another.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Loves to play with your hair and braid it !!

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Would do everything and anything for you without question HDJEJEJ.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Loves to trail kisses down your jawline and onto your collarbone; seeing you squirm in his hands is something he takes pride in.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Doesn’t get jealous too easily, given his patience and trust in you. But, if he sees you getting uncomfortable and they’re not taking in the hint, he’ll step in and just. . . make out with you. Both to take your mind off the latter and to show them that you’re taken (and/or) drive them away.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Praises and worships you like 24/7. He's the man for you if you have a praise kink BABSBDB.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: A really good kisser !! And he isn’t shy with it either, if it’ll get a reaction out of you; he’ll do it.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Almost everything reminds him of you 😭😭 He somehow finds a way to correlate something with something you’ve said, done, etc.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: Loves neck kisses; he loves the adrenaline it gives him.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Likes to shower/bathe with you ‹3 Seeing you lean into his palm while he's washing your hair makes him melt.

𖠵𝟐𝟒: One of his soft spots is seeing you wear his clothes !!

𖠵𝟐𝟓: Loves to whisper sweet nothings into your ear ‹3 Some promiscuous, some not. . . He’ll also nibble on and kiss your earlobe to provoke a reaction, hehe.

꒱₊˚ 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀 !! 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑

𖠵𝟎𝟎: Hello, one Thoma, please !!

𖠵𝟎𝟏: You see his title !! He’s very much a protector !! And a good one at that.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: 1000% husband material, quite literally the definition of it. Yes, he do the cooking; yes, he do the cleaning!!1!1 (nicki minjaj. . .)

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Has talked you up SO much to both the Kamisato siblings. Ayaka has grown to adore you ‹3

she was actually the one who gave him his final push to confess to you since he was feeling unsure!

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Worries excessively about you. He checks up on you mentally and physically 24/7.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: And if you’re not feeling well, you’re damn right if you think he’d drop anything he was doing to make sure you started feeling better.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: That said, he is the best person to go to if you’re feeling sick !! He has the best remedies and always ensures your comfort.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Ayaka once asked him if he wanted to start a family with you; he talked for an entire hour on the subject. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟖: If you were to fall (and/or) need help reaching something, he’d laugh at you first before actually helping you ‹/33

𖠵𝟎𝟗: “Honey/hon,” “(my) love,” “lovebug,” and “sweetheart.”

❝Sweetheart! I saw the strangest thing today while I was out grocery shopping! I saw a guy who looked almost identical to me! The same hair and everything! Although, he dressed kind of oddly for Inazuma. . . Maybe you knew him? I didn’t ask his name. . .❞

𖠵𝟏𝟎: If someone were to flirt with him, he’d find a way to rope you into the conversation. EX: “Oh, you think my eyes are pretty? Ahah, thank you! My significant other, (NAME), always tells me that they remind them of calla lilies. They really are the sweetest. . . Say, do you want me to introduce them to you? I’m sure they’d love to meet you. . .”

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Loves to take care of you! whether or not the care is needed. he loves stuff like brushing your hair, cooking for you, showering/bathing with you, etc. . .

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Isn’t a very jealous type unless the person is actively getting closer to you (in proximity.) However, he cannot stand people making you uncomfortable, so will always butt in when needed (:

a particular case, though, is whenever Ayato gets a little too friendly with you, LMAO. he does it just to tease Thoma.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Always gently scolds you whenever you get yourself injured or in trouble.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Doesn’t really initiate PDA but will always indulge it if you wanted !!

𖠵𝟏𝟓: You are so engraved in his schedule that he finds it harder to sleep without you by him.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Arguments aren’t too common, but that makes them worse when they do happen. He always feels incredibly guilty and tries to make it up immediately the following day ‹//3 He cannot stand to see you so upset. Sobs

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Always tugs you at his side whenever you’re wandering too far or whenever he senses you’re about to get yourself into trouble.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Remembers everything you like and everything you don’t. In fact, he remembers just about everything you say to him. 😭

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Can and will listen to you talk for hours if that’s what you wanted (and/or) needed.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Always puts others' arguments about you to a quick stop, wherever it be arguing with him or you. Nobody talks bad about the love of his life, smh.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Gives you every type of lesson out there. Cooking, cleaning, knitting, you name it. You have no reason to worry if you’re struggling with either one of those things.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: KNITS !! YOU !! MATCHING !! BLANKETS !! AND !! SWEATERS !!

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Lots of visits to see the dogs and cats !! You guys gave them all personalities and backstories.

[legilimens-library]

I Promise

severus snape x reader

712 words

Severus made his way down to your shared chambers that resides in the dungeons after the long and tedious day he endured, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening in the comfort of your embrace. But he was also peeved at the discovery of what he bore witness to earlier, or rather the lack of what he discovered. He knew only one other person who would betray him so profoundly and he was about to confront the little thief.

Turning the doorknob diligently, he crossed the threshold of the room and glanced up to find you cuddled up in his favorite armchair, reading one of those cliché romance novels you adored so much under the warmth of the soft quilt he gifted you last Christmas. Severus couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile at the sight of you as you looked up from your book, a smile upon your face to match his own.

“Hello, my love. How was your day?” The sound of your voice broke his stupor and he was once reminded of his objective, his smile turning into the classic smirk he loved to use when he was plotting a certain demise.

“Oh, the same as usual. Those dunderheaded students of mine never cease to amaze me by the lack of their ambition to follow basic instructions.” Severus made his way to kneel in front of you, taking a hold of the forgotten tome that rested on your lap and placing it on the adjacent end table to hold your hands within his. “However, I did come across something earlier today that upset me a little.”

Your smile dropped at his words and he knew that you would worry over whatever was bothering him and want to help him make it right. Assuming that he had caught you by surprise, Severus’s smirk only grew wider at the look of confusion upon your facial features.

“I’m sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. Would you like to talk about it?”

“Indeed I do, my darling girl. But first…” Severus murmured before drifting closer towards you to capture your lips in a soft kiss, making you sigh at his affection.

His lips were cool to the touch by your connection, but they were always a welcome reminder of his love towards you. It wasn’t long before he tore himself away from you and began to kiss your cheeks and along your jaw, brushing away the few stray hairs that framed your face so he could reach the shell of your ear only to whisper:

“If you ever, ever eat my biscuits again, there will be severe consequences.”

Severus then leans back and he basks in the dawn of realization you were experiencing. Right there, that was all the satisfaction he needed and he caught you red-handed. But then you had the audacity to begin giggling at him as if to mock him for such a silly notion.

“Pray tell, my dear, but what is so amusing?” He found your reaction quite irksome, but then again, he started to chuckle along with you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Sev. I didn’t mean to laugh in your face, I was sure it was something far more serious. But I confess, it was me who who ate the last of your biscuits. That’s why I made a fresh batch for you as an apology.” You pointed to where the small kitchenette was and sure enough, on top of the counter, lies a plate of warm cookies you had only just let out of the oven before Severus came back from his office.

“Would you ever find it in your heart to forgive me, Sev?” Reaching out to cup his face with your hands, you stroke at his cheek gently. Locking his gaze with your doe like eyes, Severus takes a hold of one of your wrists and places a ginger peck at your palm and returns your smile. He’s not actually upset with you, but he could never resist your eloquent charm.

“Hmm, I suppose I will. But only if you promise to join me in bed for the rest of the night.” He has you laughing again with his simple request, and who would you be to deny him?

“I promise.”

[btsficsandsuch]

I might be a little Yoongi biased.

Anniversary Alone

You were sitting in the passenger seat of his car smoothing out the wrinkle in your skirt for what felt like the hundredth time. “Y/N just relax. Everything will be okay.”, your boyfriend spoke from the drivers seat. The two of you were in Daegu to visit Yoongi’s parents and also have a little weekend get away to celebrate your first anniversary. This was your first time meeting his parents so you were extra nervous. Yoongi never spoke much of them so you weren’t too sure what to expect. After a knock on the front door and a short wait Yoongi’s mom greeted you both and welcomed you in.

Lunch was going well. Yoongi’s mom questioned him about whether or not he was resting and eating well. His dad asked him how work was going. Usual parent talks. Things took a turn when Yoongi’s mom cleared her throat, “So son, when do you plan on starting to date. I mean I’m not getting any younger and I’d really like some grandchildren.” To say you were confused was an understatement. He was dating. He was dating you and you were sitting right there. Was his mom confused? Did Yoongi not tell them about you? Your mind was going a million miles a minute waiting for Yoongi to say something.

Finally he spoke up, “You know I’m busy mom. I just don’t have time for a relationship right now.” You tried your hardest to stop the tears threatening to fall. You didn’t understand. You thought you were in a relationship with Yoongi for the last year but apparently not. Why would he lie? His mom continued, “I know and that’s why I did half the work for you and found a girl for you to take on a date. Her name is Jae. Your father and I have known her parents for years. I think you’ll really like her. She wants to be an idol too so you have a lot in common.”

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. Your boyfriend’s mother just set him up on a blind date right in front of you. You sat there waiting. Waiting for Yoongi to speak up and decline the offer. He had to decline it because his girlfriend was already sitting right next to him and he had plans to celebrate their one year anniversary that evening. You kept waiting and waiting, but you never heard him say toy. You saw him nod his head yes and whisper a soft okay breaking your heart.

The rest of the lunch was awkward to say the least. You were no longer hungry and you were just focused on not breaking down. Yoongi knew you were upset and wanted nothing more to hug you and apologize and explain.

A little more time passed before it was finally time to leave. You all said your goodbyes and Yoongi’s mom once again reminded him about his date that evening, like a final dagger to the heart. The car ride back to the hotel was silent. Yoongi tried to rest his hand on your thigh several times but you quickly shoved him off of you each time.

Once in the room you couldn’t hold the tears any longer and immediately locked yourself in the bathroom. Yoongi kept knocking on the door, “Y/N please come out and let me explain.”

“Explain what Yoongi. How you just let your mom set you up on a blind date right in front of me? Or how you haven’t told your parents you’ve had a girlfriend for the last year? I mean who did they think I was?” You tried to keep your sobs to a minimum not wanting him to know how upset you relent were.

You could hear him sigh from the other side of the door, “Y/N it’s really complicated. I was trying to protect you. My parents can be a bit harsh and I wasn’t sure how’d they react to me dating you. I didn’t want them to say anything

to hurt you so I told them that you were a member of the staff that was coming along with me to help make sure I continued to meet work deadlines. I didn’t know about the date. I promise.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “Oh so you’re embarrassed of me. Is it because im foreigner or because I’m not a famous idol like you? I mean why are you even with me if you can’t tell your parents about us?” Yoongi began to plead, “No Y/N I’m not embarrassed at all. I love you so much. You’re my everything. I thought I was doing the right thing but I made a mistake.”

Slowly you cracked open the door peeking around to see your boyfriend leaning up against the wall, his hair disheveled from him pulling at it in distress. His eyes were red from the tears threatening to spill. “Then why didn’t you tell them the truth when your mom brought up the date? Why did you agree to go?”, you questioned.

Yoongi looked up seeing you in the doorway. He pulled you into a hug, “I don’t know Y/N. I really don’t. I panicked. I feel like all I’ve ever done is let them down and went against what they wanted. I just didn’t know what to say.” You stayed in his embrace for a few moments thinking through your options. Finally you pushed him off of you looking up to meet his gaze. In a whisper you responded, “You better leave now. You don’t want to be late for your date.” With that you walked back in the bathroom locking the door behind you.

You’d hoped that he would bang on the door and tell you that he’s not going. That he’s spending the evening with you and you two will celebrate your anniversary as planned. When you heard the room door open and click shut shut seconds later, your tears started flowing again. He had actually left. He was spending your anniversary on a date with another woman that he hadn’t even met yet.

You decided the take a hot shower to try and calm down. When you were cleaned and changed you laid in bed. All you could think about was how your boyfriend was out on a date with another woman. He was making small talk, laughing at her little jokes, telling her how beautiful she looked. He’d pay for the dinner and then grab her hand and take her for a long walk through the park just talking about anything and everything. All things he was supposed to be doing with you. But instead you were alone and stuck in this hotel room in an unfamiliar city feeling sorry for yourself.

After about an hour you decided that you weren’t going to spend another night there. You had no reason too. Your boyfriend clearly didn’t care and even though you were supposed to meet his parents for breakfast the next day you knew they’d be happier if you were gone. They probably saw you as a threat to their plan to get Yoongi a girlfriend. You quickly packed all of your belongings so you could get out of there before he got back.

While putting the last of your clothing back into your bag you saw the gift you had brought to give to Yoongi. A beautiful watch he had been eyeing for a while. Along with that there was a hand written letter detailing everything you loved about him. Feeling like such a fool you came close to tearing up the letter. He didn’t deserve to read those words. But staring at the envelope you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. No matter how bad he hurt you everything in that letter was true to you at one time. You decide to leave the gift along with the envelope sitting on the table in the corner of the room along with a new note written on a piece of hotel stationery,

“Yoongi, by the time you get back from your date and read this I’ll be halfway to Seoul. Don’t worry I’ll have all of my things out of the apartment before you get back on Monday. I’m sure your new girlfriend will probably want to move her things in soon. Oh and happy first anniversary. Too bad there won’t be a second.

Love, Y/N”

With that you grabbed your bag and headed for the train station. You wanted to catch the soonest train back home.

Yoongi was miserable. All he could think about was you sitting alone in the hotel room on your anniversary while he was stuck on this date pretending to care about anything this girl was saying. “Yoongi are you even listening to me?”, she asked. He came back to the present and apologized, “Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” She rolled her eyes, “Anyways, do you think you could put in a good word for me at the company? My audition is in a couple weeks and I’d love to make a good impression.” Yoongi sighed, “Did you only want to go on this date with me so that I could try and get you in as an idol?” Jae laughed, “Well yeah I thought I made that clear. I don’t have any time for dating right now. I want to further my career.”

Yoongi was quick to stand up knowing this was his chance out. He placed some money down on the table to cover their dinners and handed Jae a card with the number to one of the recruiters on it, “Here call this number and tell them that Yoongi recommends you as a trainee.” With that he ran out of the restaurant and rushed back to the hotel hoping to find you laying in bed so he can make it up to you and tell you how much he loves you and how much he needs you and how much of an idiot he is.

Yoongi barged into the hotel room and immediately noticed you and all of your things were gone. His hope that maybe you were just out to grab dinner was lost when he noticed your note sitting on the table. He was experiencing a mix of sadness, guilt, and anger with himself. These feelings only got worse when he saw the envelope. He name written in cursive surrounded by little hearts. With shaky hands he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter he began to read,

“Yoongi, Can you believe it’s been a whole year already? Time really has gone by so fast. I guess that will happen when you spend every day feeling the love that only comes along once in a lifetime. I really don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this past year without you by my side. I never knew how badly I needed your late night cuddle sessions or your kisses when you think no one is looking. How I look forward to your words of comfort or how you put my bathrobe in the dryer before my showers so that it can be nice and warm when I get out. You truly are the love of my life and I can’t wait to celebrate many more anniversaries with you. I love you.

Yours forever, Y/N”

Yoongi sat there clutching the now tear stained letter. He couldn’t believe that he let his fears once again get in the way and ruin everything. He knew he had to make it right. He had to at least try. Shoving all his belongings into his bag he grabbed the car keys and headed out the door.

Dropping your bag by the door and taking off your shoes you were happy to finally be home. That was until you remembered that you had to pack all of your stuff and find somewhere else to live before Yoongi got home. Luckily he wouldn’t be home for another day so you decided to just get changed into some comfy clothes and get in bed.

A few hours later after you drifted in and out of sleep you heard the front door slam shut followed by lots of shuffling. Immediate panic set in. You were home alone and someone had broken into the house was the first thought that came to your mind. The fear got worse when you heard someone running down the hall to your bedroom. You jumped out of bed and grabbed the nearest item you could find to use as a weapon when the door swung open and a disheveled, exhausted Yoongi appeared. Relieved it was only him you still used your weapon of choice to lightly smack him on his good shoulder,

“What the hell Yoongi! You scared me half to death. I thought someone had broken into the house.” He engulfed you a hug squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe, “I’m so sorry Y/N, for everything. Please don’t leave me. I thought I was protecting you by what I did but I never thought it would end up like this. I love you so much and I don’t know what I’d do without you. This has been the best year of my life and for the first time I’m truly happy and that’s because of you. No other girl on this planet could even compare to you.”

You stood there just taking in his scent for a few moments before remembering what happened, “What happened to your date?” Not letting up on his grip he mumbled into your hair, “She only wanted to go on a date with me so I could put in a good word for her at the company and increase her debut chances. I gave her a card for one of the recruiters and got out of there.”

You only nodded, unsure what to say. Yoongi finally released his grip around you and pulled you to sit next to him on the bed. “Okay and what about your breakfast with your parents tomorrow? What are you going to tell them?”, you asked. He ran his hand through his hair trying to find the words, “I already called them and explained everything. I told them that we had been dating for the last year and that I loved you and didn’t care what they thought.” You bit your lip trying stop the smile starting to form. “What did they say?”, you asked. He let out a smirk, “They were pretty mad. Not only because I woke them up in the middle of the night but they were also pretty mad that I hurt you like that. My mom said you seemed like such a sweet girl. She was going to try and set you up with one of my cousins.” You could see the jealousy form in his face, “I told her she needs to stop trying to play matchmaker.” You both couldn’t help but giggle. “She also wants us to come back for another dinner so that they can get to know you properly.”, he smiled at the thought.

You pulled his hand onto your lap, “Look Yoongi I’m not saying I’m completely forgiving you right away. That was pretty low of you to do, especially on our anniversary, but I think with some time and lots of hugs and kisses I could forgive and move past this. You’ll have to earn it though.”

“Well I better get started on that forgiveness then shouldn’t I.”, he smirked while pushing you back on the bed peppering you with kisses.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Dollhouse 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as fear, coercion, violence, noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems. 

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Captain Syverson, Steve Abnesti, Lloyd Hansen, and Peter Parker 

This fic features five named readers; Ann, Lulu, Polly, Barbie, and Molly. This chapter features Ann and Lulu. Please note that characters may switch but will maintain second-person POV.

Note: It's thirstday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3 

Love you all until you can’t stand it. Take care. 💖 

You’ve been waiting all summer to come back. Campus is like paradise to you. Sure, it’s fun to party but there’s also all the clubs and the general sense of community. You always manage to find your way right into the heart of it all. 

You’re a bit disappointed to not be living on campus itself but you found an alternative not too far away, and in a nice neighbourhood too. Not to mention, your best friend ever, Polly, will be living with you! 

The uber pulls up to the front of the idyllic building and your cheeks bloom with excitement. You spent the extra money to haul all your bags from the station, and it was worth it. You couldn’t have dragged it all that way, even on the bus. 

The driver helps you get everything onto the curb. You thank him and tip him on the app. He looks at you with that fogginess that a lot of guys get. He asks if you need anything else and you assure him you’re just fine. He seems almost reluctant to go. His spindly fingers twiddle at his side as he slinks around the hood. 

You stand with your bags and take out your phone. Polly said she was on her way. You don’t want to go in without her. You send her a message asking how close she is.

“Hey, what’re ya standing in the middle of the sidewalk for, bitch?”  

You wince as you spin to face the grizzly snarl. You harrumph and scowl at Polly as she cackles. It’s funny to think she could do such a scary voice considering she always looks so dainty and perfect. Even then, she wears a blouse and skirt, with a scarf that reminds you of an Audrey classic. Never a stitch out of place with her. 

“You sure are dressed for moving day,” you remark dryly. 

“Mm, don’t talk to me Barbie Doll,” she tosses the derisive nickname at you, “I see you have on the classic Mattel shade today.” 

You pout your pinkened lips at her and roll your eyes, “whatever! Pol! We’re gonna be roommates!” 

You squeal together and she lifts her bag over the lip of the pavement, “hell yeah.” 

You giggle and look up at the house. You went there once before for the walkthrough and it’s even more perfect than you remember. You bend to take your smallest bag and Polly shakes her head. 

“Really? You brought all that? I hope you don’t think I’m gonna be your personal camel and carry it.” 

“Don’t be such a downer,” you stick your tongue out. 

“Excuse me,” a deep timbre rolls over as the front gate squeaks. You and Polly share a startled look then turn to the large blond man as he steps through. That isn’t Jonathan... “Are you girls here for moving day?” 

“Uhhhhh,” you drone out and once more glance at your BFF, “we are.” 

“Oh, let me explain, Jonathan can’t make it. He has an emergency at another property. He left your keys with me to deliver,” he stirs around in the pocket of his blazers as he stands across the pavement. 

He's taller than the building manager you met in July, broader too. He’s bigger in every way and just as blond. He wears a pair of square glasses and only a plain tee under his suit jacket. He fishes out two key rings and shakes them. 

“Here we are,” he grins. He steps forward and offers you one of the fobs. “Front door is a censor. All new system.” He gives Polly the other dongle. “By the way, I’m Steve. I help Jonathan with security. I’ll be popping in for routine measures but I shouldn’t bother you too much.” 

“Oh thanks. I’m Barbie, this is Polly,” you squeeze the fob and smile at the grand facade of the building. “Awesome.” 

Polly toys with her keyring and stays quiet. She’s usually a riot but around men, you’ve noticed she gets a bit shy. You don’t blame her. Steve is a big guy and his gaze doesn’t falter for a single second. 

“Well, that’s great,” you continue, “good to be safe.” 

“Yeah, especially with a house full of girls. You never know,” he says. 

You blink at the subtlety of his suggestion. Obviously, there’s always those who will have the worst intentions but you try not to think of that. Besides, you’ve been around the block and it all looks very ordinary to you. 

“Anyway, let me show you inside. You’ve already got a roommate waiting on your girls,” he announces and claps his hands. “Can I help you with some of this?” 

He nods to your bags and you shimmy as you laugh at yourself, “oh, yeah, aha. I wanted to make sure I had everything.” 

“No problem, think I can handle it,” he bends and picks up your two largest bags. He doesn’t struggle at all. You gather up the three smaller ones and Polly rolls her suitcase with her. 

He stands inside the gate as he waits for you to enter. You lead the way up the walk as Polly clicks behind you. You climb the steps and strut across the porch. 

“Go on in,” Steve calls from behind. 

You do as he says and set your bags to the side of the entryway. You pause to take off your shoes as you see another pair on the mat. A pair of round-toed flats with bows. 

“You two are upstairs,” Steve says, “at the top, rooms at the end of the hall. Do you want me to bring your bags up?” 

“Oh, no, you can leave them at the door,” you face him again. “This is so lovely. Will you let Jonathan know we got here or should I call him?” 

“I can take care of it,” he says. “I’ll be headed to him once the rest of you show up. My partner’s out of town so we’re short right now.” 

“Your partner?” 

“Like I said, security.” 

“Ah, right, ha,” you rock your shoulders and he puts your bags down lightly. 

“Sure you don’t want some help,” he peers upstairs. 

“Really, we’re all good, right Polly?” 

“Mhmm,” she nods and looks past him. 

“Right, I’ll be outside. There's three more coming.” He nods and turns to go. 

You wait until he’s out the door to proceed upstairs. As you do, Polly sighs. 

“He was nice,” you say. 

“I guess,” she agrees dully. 

“He’s just doing his job.” 

“I know, it’s just, boys, guys, or whatever, standing next to you with them is like being invisible sometimes,” she mutters. “Not your fault but... yeah.” 

“Whatever. He’s a bit old for me,” you scoff as you get to the second-floor hall. You forgot how wide it was. Probably a good thing knowing it will be a full house. 

As you come to the end of the hall, a door opens and you see a single eye peer out. You stop short and Polly hits your back. The girl shifts the door and sticks her head out. 

“Uh, hi,” she squeaks, “I’m Lulu.” 

“Hey, uh, we’re... Barbie,” you point to yourself, “and Polly.” 

Polly leans around to wave with her free hands, “hi, Lulu.” 

Lulu lets the door go and steps out, “it’s been so quiet around here. I got here last week. It’s so nice to have people around.” 

“Oh, really?” You wonder. 

“I’m on exchange so... yeah, had to fly in,” she smiles sheepishly. “Anyway, sorry to bug you. Just wanted to say hi.” 

“You’re not bugging us at all! We were just chatting with Steve--” 

“Steve?” She frowns, “oh, the big bald guy? That’s Sy.” 

You frown and look at Polly, “no, Steve. Blond hair. Big.” You make yourself wide as you say the last word. 

“Ohhhh, sorry, I haven’t been out of my room. I’ve been so nervous,” she giggles and it sounds like a tinkling bell. 

“He’s the security guy or something,” Polly says. 

“Right,” Lulu’s lips tremble, “cool. Um, anyway, if you need me to show you around...” 

“Um, sure. We’ll drop out things off then I want to have a look at the kitchen. I was thinking of having some drinks once the rest got here. Maybe we can do a housewarming,” you chirp. 

“Oh, that sounds fun,” Lulu laughs again and it seems to clog her throat. She clears it and blinks, “sorry. Nervous.” 

You smile. You like meeting new people and the most exciting part for you, is all the different personalities coming together. And there’s still three more girls on the way. 

New things are always scary. For you, even the familiar is frightening. Sometimes what you know is the most dangerous. Like the bullies you went to school with for years.

Transferring to a new college is enough stress on its own but moving to a whole new city, that’s another beast on its own. Just like a dragon on its hoard. You clutch your worn novel to your chest as you walk down the street, your bag bouncing on the cracks in the sidewalk. 

You should’ve written this down. You think you’re going in the right direction. After the greyhound, you counter the city transit into the core and from there, you’ve been walking in circles. Finally, you recognise a street name and stop to turn on your data and spend a few MBs on confirming your destination. Just at the end. Phew. 

That gate was in the photos, those hedges too. Wow, it looks so much better IRL. You slow down in disbelief as you stare up at the siding. This can’t be. For the price you’re paying, you have to have taken a wrong turn. 

“Moving in?” A chipper voice asks as a shadow skews over the pavement next to yours. 

You blanch and look over at a boy about your age with reddish brown hair and warm amber eyes. He grins as you lower your chin then turn back to the house, “uh, yeah?” 

“Me too,” he says. “Peter. It’s a pretty cool building, huh? My aunt knows the owner.” 

“Mr. Pine,” you murmur. 

“I call him Jonathan but, yeah,” he chuckles. “You’re a Thrones fan?” 

You furrow your brow and glance over again. Then you check the book in your hand. 

“I’ve only read the books,” you say. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” 

“Molly,” you answer and sniff. You stare up at the house as it sinks in. You’ll be sharing a space with him. Not only him, but four others. 

“Should we go in together?” He offers. 

“Sure, why not,” you clutch your phone against the book and drag your bag forward. “Um, Mr. Pine said we should call--” 

“Yeah, that’s whatever. Like I said, I know him,” he insists as he goes ahead of you and unlatches the gate. “Come on.” 

You come forward as he hitches up his duffle bag. Your suitcase rattles over the threshold as another figure appears from the porch, “Pete, didn’t say you were bringing your girlfriend.” 

A large blond man, built like a warrior in a fantasy novel, descends the steps, “don’t think the roommates will be very happy about that.” “Whatever, Steve. She’s one of them. We just met.” 

“Ah, another one,” the man says, “great, just one more then.” The man digs in his pocket, “Jonathan left the keys.” He takes out two fobs and doles them out between you and Peter, “I’m Steve. Security.” He explains. 

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you,” you eke out. 

“This is Molly,” Peter intones and you give a bashful look. Oops, you forgot that. 

“Right, you two are on the first floor,” Steve says, “you wanna show her around, Pete?” 

Peter clucks, “Peter,” he corrects, “Steven.” 

The large man chortles and nods at you, “let me know if he gives you any trouble. It is my job to deal with the rabble.” 

You smile tightly and Peter waves off the other man, “come on. I’m sure you don’t wanna stand out in the sun with this lump head.” 

You show your teeth apologetically before you follow Peter. He strides down the walk and up the steps. You’re a few feet behind him. 

As you enter the house, you hear voices. They hush and you listen for them as they seem to do the same. Peter stands on the mat as you unlace your sneakers. 

“Hello?” He calls out, “anybody here?” 

There’s some noise before footsteps come from somewhere deep in the house. You look up to the top of the stairs as a figure appears above. The girl bounds down as two others loom behind her. 

“Helloooooo!” She trills, “I’m Barbie!” 

“Barbie,” Peter says, “hey. I love your lipstick.” 

“It’s gloss, actually, honey,” she winks, “you two are moving in? You’re friends too?” 

“Oh, uh no,” you shake your head, “we just...” 

“Good timing,” Peter says, “Peter, Molly.” He points in tandem with his introductions. 

“So cute, Molly, well up there is Polly. That rhymes! Polly and Molly, and that’s Lulu,” she gestures up behind her as the girls wave, “think there’s only one room left.” 

“What are we thinking?” Peter asks. “Party tonight? Ice breakers?” 

“Something like that. Drinks?” Barbie suggests. 

“You’re my kinda girl, Barbs.” 

“Barbie, hon,” she chides with a wag of her finger, “anywho, I’ll let you two get cozy while we wait on the last one.” 

“I hope it’s a dude,” Peter mutters as he turns away.  

You smile at Barbie then follow him. You’re not sure where your room is but he seems to know exactly where he’s going. You wouldn’t mind a door to hide behind. 

[oleander-nin]

Horrortober Day 25- Shock(Yandere Rise Donnie x Reader)

A/N, not important: Man there's a lot of Donnie. I should probably switch a few lol. Also this one kinda sucks because I'm running out of steam again and I only have Three more plots that I really actually like. And uh... two of them are Donnie. Oops. Hope y'all like him because apparently I sure did. Also my birthday's in exactly a week. So. yay! You're going to get reminded for the rest of these because I want to be annoying about it. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: chains, shock collar, yandere themes, dark themes

Words: 1047

Summary: Donnie's desperate to get you to listen

“You’re not listening.” Donnie says, his voice tight and his hands halfway clenched at his sides. You roll your eyes, anger bubbling in your chest from the sheer audacity. You didn’t want to listen to a thing he had to say until he let you go.

“I don’t usually listen to people who chain me in their lab.” You sneer, yanking at the chain screwed into the wall and connected to your ankle. Donnie bristles at your words, his eyes sharpening as he looks down at you. You can tell you hit a nerve, especially after he just gave a near hour long speech on why it was necessary to keep you here. He opens his mouth before shutting it with a small click, his shoulders tense.

“I’m trying to keep you safe.” He says slowly, like he was talking to a small child. You try your best to hold your tongue, knowing that anything you said would be taken both literally, and as an act of war. Making him too angry could be dangerous, and you weren’t sure you wanted to risk it.

“I don’t need to be kept safe. I was fine on my own.”

“Scoff!” Donnie exclaims, his voice growing in pitch as he gets more upset. “You were living in less space than the average pig. I will not allow you to be in such conditions. I have everything you need here, and you can be kept safe and healthy. I’m helping you.”

Your face heats at the notion, your teeth sinking into your lips as you try to keep from yelling. “That was not your call to make. And how can I possibly be safe here? You kidnapped and chained me! That’s the opposite of being safe!”

“They were necessary precautions!” Donnie argues, his drawn eyebrows furrowing. He’s starting to lose his patience, his shoulders shaking while he fights you. “I offered to bring you home a few days ago and you refused! It’s not my fault you’re so stupid I needed to intervene.”

Your nose flares at his words, all caution thrown to the wind. Whether it was his intention or not, he had successfully riled you up to the point of snapping. Cohesive thought leaves and anger takes over, your eyes darkening and a scowl set on your face. “Why would I ever want to go ‘home’ with you?”

Donnie shifts, his stance becoming more closed off. He towers over you, trying to make you cower back. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

You roll your eyes, standing up shakily to meet him, wincing at the tightness of the chain around our ankle. Fire danced in Donnie’s eyes as you met his glare, neither backing down for a second. You snarl at him, wanting to do nothing more than punch him square in the face for treating you like this.

“You’re being unreasonable.” Donnie sneers, his eyes twitching while he stares down at you. You don’t say anything, only staring at him with the utmost hatred in your eyes. Any care you had for him before was gone, your words only fueled by anger and hatred for the mutant in front of you. Donnie holds your gaze for a moment more before looking away, leaving the room he’s tied you in and shutting the sliding door with as much force as he could muster. You fall back into a sitting position on Donnie’s bed, grumbling to yourself as you pull on the chain keeping you stationary. If you could only get rid of that, you would be able to run and get away. As long as Donnie didn’t notice, of course.

The door opens again, Donnie’s heavy footsteps signaling his nearing presence. You don’t react, keeping your back turned to him while you continue to meddle with the chain around your ankle in an act of defiance. You couldn’t do much in your position, but you could show him you weren’t backing down. You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.

You regret not looking at him when a sharp pain shoots through your scalp, Donnie’s hand tangled in your small mess of hair as he yanks your head up. You struggle and scream profanities at the mutant, clawing at his hands before two sleek robotic arms hold you down. His hand is removed from your head, both limbs moving to your neck as he fastens something cold and metal around your neck. He pulls back, and all of your struggling makes you fall forward, his spider-shell no longer holding you up.

You turn to glare at him, opening your mouth to yell some more, but your body doesn’t let you as white-hot pain shoots through your person. Your muscles spasm and lock up as you scream, the onset of pain only lasting mere seconds, but your limbs refusing to move for moments more. You shakily push yourself to your knees, looking at Donnie’s smug face with fear. Your twitching hand moves to your neck, swiping over the metal now practically melded to your skin from the tightness.

You thumb the sleek technology, the aftershocks of pain making you dizzy while your vision fades in and out for a few terrifying moments. You felt sick, the small amount of electricity buzzing under your skin before finally dissipating. You stare at Donnie in shock, unable to speak to him. Everything he had just done to you broke every assumption you had about him, every form of trust and bond shattered. He shocked you, the remote still loose in his hand.

“Do we understand the consequences of our actions?” Donnie asks, his voice light and playful despite the condescending words. He sounded happy with what he had done, probably overjoyed in the fact that his invention had worked. Faint memories of a similar device given to his brother flood your brain, but Leo’s could be removed and was much bulkier. Yours was sleek and smooth, flush with your skin and more collar-esque than the bulky tech that Leo was given. You gulp, looking at Donnie and the situation really dawning on you. You were stuck, and Donnie would do anything to keep you that way. He would keep you safe, even if it meant hurting you himself.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 39 - Peg]

Pairing: Taehyung x f.Reader

Warnings: Smut, switching but it is mostly: sub!Taehyung & soft Dom!Reader, basically she goes all 🥴 once he returns the favour, yk?, sex on a chaise lounge in front of a mirror, making out, body worshipping, first time pegging, he calls her Empress, praise & good boy kink, he wants to be called breedable, he strips for her, rimjob, anal fingering, handjob, frotting with her strap & his dick, he is such a cutie pattootie, subby boy tears, a lil bit of overstimulation for him, nipple & breast play, oral (f.receiving), face sitting, vaginal fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), this is lovemaking at its finest, ah yes he sits on her lap then she gives it to him missionary, i’m gonna bite something this is so sensual & full of emotion

Wordcount: 13.3k

a/n: *horny in love noises*

Classical music on a record player greets you. The scent of expensive red wine and acrylic paints lingers in the air. Jungkook and Yoongi left after early morning breakfast. Yoongi needed to gain back his strength and therefore the two vampires went out hunting. They haven’t returned yet. Jimin went into town as well, meeting up with Hoseok in their dance studio. They won't be back until later. Which leaves you alone at the estate and therefore with an opportunity to talk to Taehyung. He deserves a chance at talking everything out.

“My darling?” you try.

Taehyung is sitting on the floor, painting the clouds of his newest artwork. He doesn’t lift his head. 

“You are awake. Welcome back”, he says dryly.

“Yeah uhm…can I talk to you or are you busy?” you ask him. 

“Depends on what you are going to say”, he murmurs. 

“I wanted to start with an apology.”

Taehyung stops moving his brush and lifts his eyes. Just his eyes. 

“I know that I’m admitting it way too late, but I wasn’t myself lately and because of it I hurt you.”

Taehyung takes a deep breath, straightening up.

“I am not upset about that. We already solved this issue”, he says.

“So what are you upset about then? I want to fix it.”

“Your stubbornness.”

“I…see.”

“And what you said to me. You told me that you hated me. Why would you say that? I was merely trying to prevent you from hurting yourself even more and you said something so awful.”

“I know, I-”, you stop in your steps as you hurried closer to him without asking, “can I come closer?”

“Yes.” 

“Tae, my darling”, you say, hurrying to him. You sit down next to him, placing your hand on his knee, “I regret saying what I said. I don’t hate you and telling you something like this was awful of me to do. I’m so sorry.”

Taehyung acknowledges you with a nod of his head. He places his brush in the glass of dirty paint water and rests his hand atop yours.

“I am also asking you to never call me by my full name again. I don’t want to be Kim Taehyung to you, I want to be your darling or sweetest or Tae. Just anything other than my full name”, he widens his eyes pleadingly, “please”, he whispers. 

“I understand. It must have hurt to be addressed this way. I won’t do it again and I’m sorry that I even did it in the first place.” 

“Thank you”, Taehyung says, looking relieved, “it feels good to be apologised to.”

“It’s what you deserve”, you give him a warm smile, “I put you through so much lately and I gotta own up to my shit.”

“Thank you. I really needed to hear this from you.”

“Of course, my darling”, you say, caressing his knee, “I will do better from now on. No more mad witch moments, promise.”

Taehyung laughs, lowering his eyes shyly. You snicker, nudging him gently. 

“Can I give you a kiss, my sweetest?” you ask him.

He nods his head, leaning in with his eyes closed. It is a chaste kiss. Sweet and soft and meant to remind you how lovely it is to kiss each other.

You pull back, eyes racing between Taehyung’s as your hand caresses his knee. 

“I”, he begins, “I was so worried for you”, he confesses, “I kept checking up on you, but you wouldn’t wake. Are you truly alright now? Is Yoongi alright?”

“We’re both okay”, you assure him, “I feel rested and Yoongi is alright. He is already out hunting with Kook. I actually did it, Tae. I fixed everything.”

“I know. I still can’t believe that you did. You worried me greatly.”

“You don’t have to worry anymore, sweetest. I slept so well and I feel so refreshed.”

“Yes? Did you eat already?”

“I did. I ate the yummiest carbonara ever. I haven’t felt that full in ages. It’s nice to enjoy food again.”

“That’s good to hear”, Taehyung says and smiles softly.

You retort it and somehow this makes his smile fall. He furrows his brows and pouts sadly.

“What’s the matter, darling?” you ask him.

“I just...” his voice pitches in emotion as he speaks, “it’s been too long since I’ve seen you smile”, he confesses and throws his hand over his mouth to muffle his sob. He squeezes his eyes shut, curling into himself as he sobs again.

“Tae, my darling”, you gasp and pull him into a hug instantly, “I’m here, don’t cry.”

His face falls into the crook of your neck, his arms close around you tightly. He presses out a squeaky sob, twisting the fabric of your jumper.

“It hurt so much to see you fail and to be helpless myself”, he confesses, “I wanted to keep you safe and yet had to watch you kill yourself slowly. I was in so much pain.”

“You did everything you could do. I know it is easier said than done, but please don’t blame yourself.”

“But I do. I know you are healed again, but I feel so guilty”, Taehyung says and shudders in a sob, “I should have done so much more.”

“No, Tae. Darling”, you shake him off just so you can cradle his face. He looks up at you with tear-filled eyes and his lips trembling as he holds back his sobs, “I would have died without you. I’m not lying to you when I tell you that. You were the one who kept me alive. You fed me, forced me to sleep, held me so I could rest even if I pretend that I didn’t need to rest and you helped me with my magic as much as you could. If you didn’t take care of me, I would have worked myself to death.”

He spills tears, whimpering incredibly sadly.

You wipe his tears away, tilting his head so you could kiss his forehead. Taehyung exhales shakily because of  it.

“You did the most important job by keeping me alive, my sweetest Tae”, you whisper, running your thumbs over his temples, “and I won’t ever take your support for granted. So thank you for everything you did these past nine weeks and also I’m sorry for everything you had to endure.”

Taehyung lifts his head. He stopped crying, but looks at you with glassy eyes. His lips aren’t trembling anymore, but still pout.

“I know it will still take some time for us to return to normalcy and I don’t expect you to accept my apology. When you still need some time to yourself, then-”

“I don’t want time to myself”, Taehyung interrupts you, “all I have wanted for these past nine weeks was to know that you were alright and that I could rest my eyes without fearing that you are dying somewhere I can’t find you. I want to be with you, ___ and I want to know that you are healthy.”

“And I want to be with you, Tae”, you tell him and give him a reassuring smile, “and I’m healthy. I’m okay now. At least my body is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to work on my magic. Meredith told me that I have lots of chaos in my head and that if I don’t work on my focus, I might end up dying.”

“What?” Taehyung chokes out. He shakes his head vigorously, “no. No, please don’t.”

You stop him with a gentle touch to his cheeks, “I won’t die”, you whisper, kissing the tip of his nose, “I will have Yoongi teaching me control, Meredith offered me her help as well and I will have you…”, you smile, tracing his lips, “…by my side, being my beautiful darling and my most loved Tae.”

“So you love me?” he whispers.

“I love you so much that I want to move mountains for you”, you say and giggle, “maybe one day I will, when I know how to focus my magic.”

Taehyung laughs. Honestly and shyly. You laugh with him, tracing the smile lines appearing on his cheeks. He looks so beautiful when he smiles.

“You would truly move mountains for me?” he asks.

“Yes I would, my darling Tae.”

“Wow”,  he breathes and exhales shakily. He lowers his eyes for a moment. Inhale. Exhale. He lifts his head and smiles, pulling you into a tight hug. The kind of hug, which lets you know that everything was okay again between you and him. The kind of hug, which consumes you. And the kind of hug, which makes you glad that despite all the hurdles you and he had to climb over, you were still one. You close your arms around him and bury your hand in his hair. Just as Taehyung does to you. And you kiss his neck, while he makes sure he reminds his heart how you smell when you are healthy.

And as you do, the record on his player comes to an end, filling the room with the rhythmic clicking of the needle moving without purpose. But it had purpose to you and it had purpose to him, because it meant that the hard times came to an end. The music stopped and with it, showcased that the problems and struggles and tears were now truly a thing of the past.

All you had to do now was to flip the record and start new songs. Unheard songs of good days, warm hugs and loving memories.

You and he move back at the same time, looking deep into each others’ eyes.

“The music stopped”, you whisper.

“I know”, he whispers back.

“Should we get up and flip the record?”

“Let it turn. I don’t want you to slip away again”, he says.

“I can live with that”, you say with your eyes racing over his features. You can’t look away. He is so beautiful.

His eyes flit to your lips, his tongue darts out to wet his own, “darling, can we kiss again?”

“Of course, I would love nothing more than that”, you say and cup his cheek, allowing your eyes to fall closed as you lose yourself in the kiss. 

Taehyung closes his eyes, fingers closing around your wrists to hold them gently.

He tastes like red wine and vanilla lip balm. His lips are so soft, moving against yours slowly and almost tentatively. His breath swirls over your cheek as he exhales through his nose and just seconds later, his fingertips replace the sensation. He traces your cheek and cups it gently, chasing you to deepen the kiss. 

Your hand slips to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. It feels so soft between your fingers, wrapping around you as if this was its only purpose. To be held and caressed by you. And perhaps it was. It would explain why Taehyung shivered oh so much as you did.

Taehyung whimpers. It has been too long since you last kissed him like that. He doesn’t blame you. He is aware that you grieved. You didn’t blame him when he refused intimacy for months on end because of his grief. And so he didn’t do either. Not for one second he blamed you for grieving the way you did. But he can’t deny that he missed your touches greatly, needing nothing more than to be closer to you. Closer. Oh so much closer. 

He gets on his knees, holds your face to keep kissing you and draws closer. He sits down on your lap, lifting his shoulders to his ears as this was the only way to kiss you whilst holding your face. 

You smile, running your hands down his back until you can hold his hips. He is comfortably heavy on your lap, sharing heat with you that way. You like the feeling a lot. He is so, so warm and his thighs are so soft as you feel them up. 

Taehyung breaks the kiss because of it, giggling shyly as he sways his shoulders from side to side. 

“Not there please”, he whispers, reaching down to fix the position of your hands. They were caressing his inner thighs before that, now resting on his hips. Taehyung squirms and sways his shoulders again, looking at you cutely.

“Why?” you ask him.

“I’m too sensitive”, he confesses.

“I see”, you smile, “you’re really precious, Tae sweetest”, you add, making him sway and pull the cutest face in existence. It makes his cheeks stick out and appear oh so soft and squishy.

You cup them because that is all they deserve to be. Held and caressed. And kissed. You pull his head closer, placing a soft kiss on each of his cheeks. He giggles because of it, closing his eyes. His fingers slip to your chest, resting there without any ulterior motive. The mere connection is enough for him.

“My sweetest darling”, you whisper, trailing your kisses to his jawline, “you’re my prettiest. Yes, you are.”  

Taehyung sways happily, almost having to squeal from how good you make him feel. You dance your fingers up his torso, brushing against the edge of his shirt on accident. It slips off his shoulder, revealing his collarbone to your lips. Taehyung giggles with the first kiss, swaying his shoulders cutely. It makes you lift your head, eyes running over his pretty stature. 

“Do you think that I am beautiful?” he asks you, holding his breath afterwards.

“Of course I do. You are so beautiful. Tae”, you gasp, touching his waist gently, “Tae, my darling, do you think that I don’t find you beautiful?”

He shakes his head, hiding his mouth behind his little fists.

“I wanted to be praised”, he confesses and giggles, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“I see”, you smile, “well if that’s so, then I think that you are the most beautiful”, you say, caressing his waist. 

Taehyung wiggles and drops his hands to instead fumble with the buttons of his shirt. He opens the first one, making the shirt slip down even more. His eyes are glued to your face, drinking in your every change of reaction. He is gnawing on his lower lip cutely.

You allow him to work with bated breath. You know what he is planning to do and it excites you so very much. Taehyung is so talented in undressing. Especially when he feels submissive that night. He is so sensual and pretty in his movements and knows exactly how to make your heart flutter. Tonight is now different, your heart flutters like crazy because of him.

Another button opens, the shirt slips down his other shoulder as well, now sitting around his elbows and reaching him just above his nipples. One little movement and they would be exposed as well. He drops his hands to your lap, putting some of his weight on your thighs as he rocks back and forth a few times. His eyes are full of playful seduction and innocent curiosity. He wants you to take the next step, to decide what will happen, to give in to your desires.

“You are prettier than art, my darling”, you praise him, tracing the edge of his shirt. Your fingertips tickle his skin, eliciting goosebumps all over his chest. 

Taehyung sticks his butt out, arching his chest closer to you. It happens willfully that he bites down on his lower lip, eyes widening just enough to give him a cute puppy-like appearance.

You run your fingers up his chest, stopping by his defined collarbones to trace them.

“Like touching moonlight”, you whisper, melting in fondness when Taehyung’s eyes soften in adoration, “I haven’t said that in ages, have I?”

He shakes his head, shimmying closer just enough that you can see the sparkles in his pretty eyes. 

“My body feels so sensitive”, he whispers, eyes racing between yours, “everything you say and do makes my skin prickle.”

“It does?”

“Yes. Yes, it does. So very much. I, I want to be touched”, he says, “can we continue? It feels so good.”

“Of course. Oh, my darling”, you whisper, giving Taehyung a soft tug on his hair to tilt his head back.

“Ah”, he moans, laughing shyly in the newly exposed position you nudged him into. He stops laughing just seconds later when he feels your lips and tongue on his neck. He squeezes his thighs together on your lap, chasing the friction of you with rolls of his hips. Sensitive. So sensitive. Every touch feels like magic.

"I want to keep touching you. You deserve to be touched and explored and worshipped", you whisper between neck kisses, playing with his hair slowly. You don’t have to hold it anymore, Taehyung stays in this position willingly.

He begins unbuttoning his shirt even more, doing so with shaky fingers. He hopes that you will like the surprise. He wants to be your pretty good boy tonight. 

The fabric opens, brushing over his skin and leaving goosebumps behind. He wants your fingertips to replicate the sensation.

Taehyung moves away from your kiss and takes your hands. You allow him, watching him with fond curiosity. The taste of him lingers on your lips, making you ache for more. But you know better than to stress him. Tonight is all about him.

He guides your hands to his tummy, drawing attention to it and with it your eyes. 

“Look at you”, you whisper. His abs faded over the terrible year he had. The softest, most beautiful stomach replaced them. You touch him, dancing your fingertips over his tender skin.

Taehyung sighs, squirming shyly because the touch feels so very good. 

“How are you so beautiful, my sweetest?” you ask him, cupping his waist just to squeeze it gently, “tell me, how shall I ever function when you are so pretty?”

Taehyung giggles. He giggles loudly and cutely. And he wiggles his shoulders as he does. 

“More please”, he begs with sparkly eyes. He takes off his shirt, presenting himself with a sensual arch of his back afterwards, “more please.”

You smile at him, running your hands up his torso along the paths of his soft tummy and later chest. You stop right under his nipples, eliciting an excited gasp from him.

“My darling boy”, you whisper, brushing your thumbs over his nipples. 

“Oh”, Taehyung moans, shuddering on your lap. 

His nipples are hard within seconds. You massage them slowly, basking in how much he squirms because of it. His skin is covered in goosebumps, his cheeks are flushed just slightly. He giggles. 

“Do you like that?” you ask in a fond chuckle.

Taehyung giggles and nods his head.

“Yes?”

“Yes. So much”, and there he goes, giggling again, “I’m so sensitive.”

“I know, my sweetest. You’re doing so very well.”

“Can you fuck me?” Taehyung asks in a whisper and squirms.

“You want me to fuck you?” you gasp for his question surprised you. 

Taehyung couldn’t help it. You praised him and that makes him very desperate.

“Yes…peg me. I, I-” he blushes, “I, ah”, he manages to get out. It is enough for you to understand how desperately needy he was for you. 

“Pegging? What is that?”

“You fuck me with a strap on”, he explains, “I promise it feels like heaven to you. I own the one which pleasures you as well.”

“That sounds so hot. I can fuck you too? That’s possible?”

Taehyung nods his head, squirming on your lap.

“Wow…” you whisper, “I really want to do this with you.”

Taehyung laughs breathily, “I’m so happy”, he confesses and cups your face, “shall we put it on?”

“Yes.”

And so you leave his atelier with excited giggles on your lips.

Taehyung opens the secret door and leads you inside. It was red, made out of wood and located behind his coats in his dressing room. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes the first time he showed it to you, calling it the coolest thing right after his secret mural door. 

You then proceeded to believe your eyes even less when Taehyung showed you what lies behind those doors. A playroom with an array of toys and kinky furniture everywhere. The ceilings were covered in mirrors and the walls were the darkest burgundy. That night, he showed you the beauty of owning such a room. You sometimes think of that night and get wet. 

Taehyung guides you to his dildo collection, walking with a happy skip. 

“I am so excited”, he confesses, “I've dreamt of being your bottom for so long.”

“That’s hot, Tae. Like really hot.”

Taehyung pulls out the lowest drawer, revealing a collection of harnesses.

“Pick one”, he tells you.

You run your eyes over them. They all looked well-taken care of. They are so hot. Thinking about wearing them turns you on.

“You have so many.”

“Yes, I am an avid collector. You know me”, he says and snickers, “besides, I need to be prepared for the annual vampire orgy.”

You sneak a glance at him.

“How come I've never heard of that before?”

“I sadly had to miss out on it for two consecutive years because of what happened. But I am planning to organise a very special orgy this coming summer.”

“Ah I see”, you chuckle, “well, I’m not one to stop you. Do warn me though, so I can flee before I become food.”

Taehyung chuckles.

“Don’t you worry, I will warn you. Yoongi loathes these orgies, so I figure he will take you somewhere fancy.”

“I'm counting on it”, you say and pick up a purple leather harness, “I like this one.”

“Oh it will look beautiful on you. Do you want to put it on?”

“Yes, I would love to put it on.”

And so Taehyung helps you undress yourself and then put on the harness. He shows you what to put on so you would feel the fuck as well and together you try it out. You really like the sensation and therefore decide to keep it on. Then Taehyung helps you with securing the strap in the back, working diligently as you share in comfortable and intimate silence. He travels his hands over your waist until he can massage the part of your body where your hips meet your pubic area. He kisses your shoulder, resting his chin on it afterwards.

“How are you feeling?” he asks you.

“Good. It feels so nice”, you answer him, chasing his touch.

Taehyung runs his hands closer to your middle, drawing your eyes down to them. He traces the dildo, before wrapping his fingers around its base. You gasp as if he truly touched you. If you concentrate hard enough, you can almost feel his touch.

“How does it feel to have a cock?” he asks, jerking you off slowly.

You watch him with blown-out pupils and with your breathing quickening. His fingers glide over your silicone length so gracefully, looking oh so tempting.

“It kind of feels exciting”, you confess.

“Once you mastered your magic, I can show you magnificent spells. Spells, which you won’t believe are possible”, he whispers.

“Really?”

“Mhm, spells that will make your strap feel as if it was a real cock.”

“I can do that?”

“Mhm”, he stubs your neck with his nose, “with the right teacher.”

You chuckle and sigh at the same time, chasing his fist in a sensual roll of your hips. You reach behind yourself, twisting a bundle of his hair.

“Mhhm Tae”, you purr, resting your head against his chest, “I get a feeling that you will show me the most twisted of spells.”

He holds his breath, looking at you nervously. Did he go too far?

“I kinda love it”, you add and laugh lazily, “fuck, you drive me insane.”

Taehyung moans needily, feeling his knees buckle.

“I want to be fucked, please”, he begs.

You open your eyes and turn your head as best as possible to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

You turn, placing your hands on his chest. A playful smirk curls your lips, your eyes lower in seduction.

“I want to fuck you so good, Tae”, you rasp.

“Oh”, he lets out and sways, “oh god, ___”, he whispers shakily, “I, I don’t want to do it here.”

“Yeah? Just lead the way.”

He nods his head vigorously and squirms out of your touch. He flees from you in a happy skip, giggling as he does. You follow him with a fond smile. He is leading you outside to the chaise lounge in the dressing room. It was big enough to house two big people comfortably and it was of a deep purple colour. 

“You’re so cute”, you say, gazing at Taehyung.

“I feel so pretty”, Taehyung says and twirls, stopping with a sensual sway of his shoulders. His lower lip slips between his teeth, his delicate hands run down his torso. He widens his eyes at you. Playfully just as much as shyly.

“Am I pretty?” he asks, swaying his shoulders.

“Of course you are. My prettiest”, you say. 

Taehyung giggles and lowers his eyes bashfully. 

“Can I show myself to you?” he asks, dancing his fingers down to the hem of his pants. 

“I would love nothing more”, you say, ogling the prominent dent in his pants. Oh how you crave to see him. 

Taehyung opens the prettily done bow of his pants, tugging on it slowly. Then he hooks his fingers in the hem, going slow in exposing himself. First his groomed pubes. They tease you for more, guiding your eyes down to his pretty cock. Taehyung is holding the pants in such a way that all you can see is its girthy base. Only a glimpse. Nothing but a little appetizer.

The anticipation makes you lick your lips. You crave him like nothing else. 

Taehyung moves again. His shaft. Veiny and oh so very clearly hard. How it stays in his pants is a mystery to you.

“I want you”, you confess in a hushed whisper. 

Taehyung sways his shoulders and tugs on his pants. His cock springs free. You gasp, following it with hungry eyes. It throbs just once, dribbling the prettiest pearls of excitement. Dark flushed cock against the darkest pubes. Oh the view drives you crazy. 

You step closer, seeking him. You can’t control yourself any longer. You need him like air. 

Taehyung however flees you. He steps back and giggles, lets you grab air, taunts you with an innocent look. 

Your eyes meet. The desperation in your gaze makes his cock throb again.

“No touching”, he says and sways his shoulders adorably. 

“You drive me insane”, you whisper, gazing at his cock, “please let me touch. You’re so beautiful.”

Taehyung shakes his head and smiles cutely. He touches himself. No movements. He merely wraps his elegant fingers around his girthy shaft to hold his cock in place. You stare and salivate. Honestly if your cock was real, it would be twitching like crazy right now. 

“What do you want to do to me?” he asks, squeezing down on his veins until his flushed tip leaks little droplets of temptation. Oh how tempted you are to taste him.

“What?”

“What do you want to do to me?”

This is a game to him. He wants to rile you up, needs you to describe the kinky shit to him. And you fucking love playing. You draw closer just a little. Not too much. You don’t want him to flee again. Oh how you want him.

“I want to take your cock and jerk it off until it’s throbbing.”

“Like this?” Taehyung asks and massages his cock. 

“Yeah…” you watch it with a tingling stomach. He is leaking so much.

“What else?” he sighs, putting on the prettiest show as he jerks himself. You draw closer. Taehyung flees.

Your gazes meet.

He giggles innocently.

You feel angry in desperation.

“Tell me the truth”, he taunts with sparkling eyes. 

“I want to take you and bend you over that chaise lounge, I want to jerk your pretty cock and fuck your tight ass until you're crying. And honestly if you fucking flee one more time, I’m actually gonna lose it.”

Taehyung moans, dropping his cock to instead grip his own waist. 

“Empress”, he pleads.

You have him. You won. You step closer and Taehyung feels his knees buckle. Your strap graces his cock, sending a jolt of electricity through him. You reach up and take his chin between two of your fingers.

“Get on this stupid piece of furniture now and let me do my goddamn thing”, you rasp. 

“I want to kiss your feet”, Taehyung croaks, looking utterly star struck.

“You can do that later”, you say and release his chin. 

Taehyung springs into action instantly. He kneels down on the chaise lounge, placing his hands on the backrest of it. Like this, he can arch his back and therefore flaunt his round bubble butt. 

You feel your tummy flutter at the view. He is so sexy, moving so temptingly sensual.

He looks over his shoulder, fluttering his lashes at you. 

“Am I breedable, Empress?”

“Excuse me?” you gasp, widening your eyes. 

Taehyung moans softly and arches his back. Like this, his pretty hole is exposed. 

“Am I a pretty boy, Empress?” 

“O-of course you are, damn”, you clear your throat, “goddamn it, Tae. You are so hot like this.”

Taehyung wiggles his hips and bends over, presenting his untouched hole to you.

“You can do whatever you want to me. I'm breedable and good.”

“You’re insane for talking like this.”

“Am I embarrassing?”

“Of course not. You’re just too much, I’m so fucking wet.”

He poses for you with a soft moan, looking oh so proud of himself. 

You step closer, having to touch him. He tenses up and shudders, moaning softly. You feel him up. His skin is soft. He is burning up. 

“You drive me insane, Tae. Actually insane”, you whisper, drinking in the view. Round buttocks and pretty hole. It’s not as pink as Jungkook’s is. It’s darker - matching his cock - but just as pretty. Pretty and oh so fucking tempting. Part of you wants to stuff it with your strap right here and now, while another part of you wants to explore it for hours. Oh, you can’t get enough of this man.

“Am I good enough?” he asks breathily, “does my hole please you?”

“Taehyung, I'm so bloody obsessed that it’s hard to breathe. All I want to do is lick it.”

Taehyung moans, fluttering his lashes.

“Please lick me, Empress”, he begs and arches his back. 

“Mhhhm Tae, you’re so…” , you drift off as your eyes run over his untouched hole. You have to change that. You connect your thumb with his rim. Taehyung gasps and arches into your touch, “you’ve got such a pretty hole”, you praise him. 

“Does it look breedable, Empress?”

“Mhm, so breedable. You look like such a pretty cum dump, Tae darling. All tight and dainty. I bet you could keep so much cum inside, mhm?”

Taehyung moans loudly, writhing in bliss. You can watch just how deep he falls into the headspace, how you have him hooked on your fingers. One wrong word and you could probably break him. One right word and you could most definitely ruin him.

“Yes”, he moans, “yes, I’m breedable and, and tight. I, I can be a bred boy for hours.”

This is going to haunt you. All of this. Taehyung in such a headspace is going to goddamn haunt you. 

“You’re such a good boy. Fuck Tae, I can’t take it anymore. I want to rim you.”

“Do whatever you want, Empress. I can take anything”, he consents with the knowledge that you are aware of his boundaries. Truly, offering himself as someone so entirely without control feels so good to do because he knows that you respect each and every single boundary he has. You can do whatever you want with him, because you won’t go too far. Taehyung feels dizzy at the aspect of being so entirely at your mercy.

“You are such a good boy”, you praise and lower yourself to your knees, grabbing his hips as you do. The floor feels hard and cold on your knees, but you don’t mind. You have better things to do, like pull Taehyung down and onto your tongue. 

“Ah!” he yelps, reaching behind himself to grab your hair, “Empress!”

He tastes sweet, grinding on the flat of your tongue each time he wiggles his hips. You purr deeply and close your eyes. He feels so good. His puckered hole flutters and tenses as you taste him, his hips keep squirming under your fingers, his hand grips you so desperately. 

“Don’t stop please”, he begs, “it feels so good. Oh, it feels so good.”

You purr deliciously, having your eyes closed in bliss. You goddamn love giving head. Your men are always so reactive and cute when you do and the surge of pleasurable confidence this gives you makes you feel so goddamn attractive. And happy. Very, very happy because you know that you can make them feel good. 

And Taehyung deserves to feel good. After all the shit you put him through lately, he deserves to feel nothing but the most amazing and wonderful sensations. 

You run your hands along his thighs, lingering on the beginning of his buttocks to trace his heated flesh. It feels so plump and heavy between your fingers. 

“You’re perfect”, you moan into him, squeezing his butt, “you’re so fucking perfect.”

Your tongue slips between his buttocks without struggle, poking and teasing his hole in quick swirls. You dirty him in your drool, but you don’t care. He makes you salivate, he is so goddamn delicious. 

Taehyung moans and lets his head fall back, revelling in the sensations with his thumb dimpling the pillows of the chaise lounge. Your warmth borders unbearable. Taehyung forgot just how warm your touch feels, how gentle and soft you love him but at the same time with just how much intense passion you explore him. 

“Please don’t stop”, he begs, tilting his head back even further. It reveals his throat for no one to see but the burning candles and whatever entity may hide in the invisible worlds in between. 

You dig your fingers deeper, dimpling his flesh and parting him for better access. Like this, his hole opens just enough for you to be able to explore those truly delicate and sensitive parts of him. 

The sound that forces out of sweet Taehyung goes straight to your core. You can feel him tremble in reaction. You are so greedy for more. Moaning desperately, you try to breach him with your tongue. You have to be harsh for it, rough and filled with an almost angry strength. You struggle at first. He is clenching so much in excitement that it is hard to fill him up. You don’t want to give up. You have to claim him. One more try. Your tongue wiggles and swirls. Wiggles and swirls. Wiggles and breaches him. 

Your name falls from his lips in a loud and pitched moan, his head bounces to the front and hits the edge of the backrest. His fingers slip from your hair to grip the chaise lounge. He whimpers loudly and clenches around you. 

You mewl in bliss, burying yourself as deep as your tongue allows you to go. You claimed him. And he tastes like heaven. You have to have him. All you want to do is fuck him and taste him and make him feel good. You begin moving your head back and forth to allow your tongue to glide in and out of him. Your palms are holding him open for you, your thighs are rubbing together in search of sweet friction. With the strap-on you are wearing, you feel quite a lot of friction between your legs. Taehyung wasn’t lying when he told you that you would feel it too. You are so fucking desperate because of it. 

“Finger me”, Taehyung begs in a breathy moan, “please finger me.”

“Hm?” 

“Finger me, please Empress.”

You slip out of him, watching how his pretty hole clenches in desperation. It glistens from your drool, looking much more open and relaxed now that you tongue fucked it so well. 

“You want me to finger you?”

“Yes”, Taehyung begs desperately, “yes please just finger me, please.”

“I can’t get enough of you, fuck”, you get out and gasp for air. He makes you dizzy. You feel so charged in desperation.

You reach for the bottle of lube and prepare your finger. Taehyung waits patiently, running his fingers over the fabric of the chaise lounge mindlessly. It tickles his fingertips and feels soft, but not as soft as your touch which lingers on his hole just seconds later. He straightens up and moans, arching into you.

“Ready?” you ask him, massaging his rim slowly.

“Yes”, he sighs, pushing his hips back.

“You are such a good boy”, you praise as you push your finger into him.

He moans loudly, you feel tense in desperation. He is so tight and warm around you, his walls are hugging your finger gratefully. You move your finger as the urge to explore him weighs too heavy in your heart.

“Another one”, he begs the instant you begin moving.

“Really?” you gasp.

“Yes, I barely feel anything.”

“That’s hot”, you croak, “oh my god Tae, you are so hot”, you rasp and push your ring finger into him. It sinks in quickly, filling him out and eliciting a grateful moan from him. He pushes back into you, moving his tight hole on your digits.

“Yes”, he breathes, “yes, oh yes, oh yes.”

His pretty hole moves around your digits, looking so beautiful now that you stretch him so well.

“This makes me so wet”, you confess in a breathy voice, “I can’t believe you’re real.”

The true and utter honesty in your voice makes Taehyung tremble. He knows that all the praise you give him is honest and real, but this right now sounds almost unnaturally honest. You are so mesmerised by him. He can hear just how honest you are in your desperation. And Taehyung can’t handle it.

“This doesn’t work”, he sobs softly, “please do it differently.”

“Yeah? How do you want it?”

“I want to sit on your lap, please.”

“Okay, let’s do that”, you say, slipping out of him. You waste no time with watching his hole close, instead you let yourself fall down on the chaise lounge next to him, parting your legs enough to make your lap comfortable for him. Your strap hits your stomach from the movement, sending a jolt of excitement through you. You feel so sexy like this. Taehyung wastes no time being desperate for your fingers, instead he climbs atop your lap with wobbly knees, cups your face and kisses you deeply.

“Mhhm Tae”, you mumble into him, kissing him back with a dizzy head.

His taste lingers on your lips. Taehyung sucks and licks it off of you with needy hunger. His tongue traces your lips and hugs your own, forcing you to moan and sigh. He cups your breasts and massages the spots you love having touched. His fingertips carry magic in them, sending shivers down your spine. Oh how terribly greedy for a feel of you he is. You chase him desperately, needing nothing more than his touch. 

His cock is rubbing against your strap. You can feel them press against your stomach that way. The sensation feels so good. You pull him closer because of it, but can’t as Taehyung breaks the kiss to moan sweetly.

Your eyes meet in a deep and intimate gaze. It turns you on to look at each other.

“I want you”, you whisper, parting your lips as you chase his kiss.

“I want you too”, he whispers and reaches between your bodies, wrapping his fingers around your cocks. He begins jerking them off, whimpering needily because like this, his sensitive spots are grinding right against the head of the translucent dildo. 

You chase him with a roll of your hips, twisting his hair at the back of his head.

“That’s so hot”, you rasp.

“Imagine how this will feel once you learned the spell”, he whispers and mewls softly. Frotting with you gets him off so good.

“Tae, I’m so wet”, you confess and whine quietly.

“Finger me again, please”, he begs, arching his back.

“I’m so fucking wet”, you croak and drop your right hand from his hair to part his buttocks for you. He has enough lube on his rim to enable you a comfortable breach and so you push two of your fingers into him to their last knuckles, curling them against his favourite spot. 

“Like this?” you ask him, hungry eyes glued to his pretty face. He feels tighter in this position, hugging your digits greedily.

Taehyung scrunches his nose up, “hngn”, he lets out and exhales loudly, chasing the sensation with a roll of his hips.

“Yes, just like this”, you whisper deeply, “just like this.”

“N-no”, he presses out.

“No?”

He reaches behind himself and touches your pointer finger. Then he looks into your eyes, pouting pleadingly.

“Please”, he whispers.

“Fuck. Tae”, you get out and with his help, push a third finger into his greedy hole.

Taehyung closes his eyes by letting them roll back. His jaw goes slack, his throat produces an honest and deep moan. The view leaves you with the wettest stain of desperation under you.

“Thank you”, he gets out and parts his lips again to moan honestly and loudly. He feels so stuffed. Three of your fingers are currently preparing his hole, massaging his prostate with such expertise, Taehyung wonders if he will ever become normal again. 

“You’re such a good boy, Tae. You’re taking me so well”, you praise, watching in delight as Taehyung squirms shyly, hole clenching around your fingers excitedly. He makes you smile. “You are so cute”, you say in a soft voice. It is heavy in arousal.

Taehyung giggles and moans, chasing you with a roll of his hips. Just once and then he shivers, hand dropping from his cock and reaching behind to hold your wrist. 

“Wait. Stop. Please”, he begs. 

You obey, keeping your fingers still inside him as your brows furrow in worry.

Taehyung takes a deep breath and groans quietly, “oh god”, he gets out, shuddering desperately.

“Are you okay? Were three too much?”

“No. So close.”

Your eyes light up. So he isn’t in pain.

“Yes? Does praise get you too needy?” you tease to which Taehyung giggles and blushes. 

“I’m sorry, please don’t be mad. I know it feels as if I'm rushing. This is so exciting to me.”

“Hush, don’t apologise. You’re taking the perfect amount of time”, you assure him, curling your fingers to make him feel good.

He twitches and gasps, squeezing your wrist.

“Please”, he squeaks.

“Mhm what do you want?”

“I want to be fucked, please”, he begs with cute eyes. 

“Yes? Do you really want to do that?” you ask him.

“Yes. You?”

“Yes, I’m just a little nervous. I don’t know how to move properly.”

“That’s okay, I’ll show you.”

You smile, “you are such a good boy, Tae”, you say, curling your fingers.

“Ah”, he widens his eyes, squeezes your wrist, “don’t please.”

You chuckle softly, “I’m sorry, you are just so adorable when you squirm.”

“Oh god, please”, he pouts, “please more, please.”

“Get my cock ready, sweetest”, you order, slipping your fingers free. You can’t wait. You are so goddamn excited.

Taehyung obeys instantly. He covers the dildo in a good layer of lube, using the remnants on his fingers to cover his hole.

He sighs, “I need you so much”, he says and positions himself over your length. He grips it by its base, moving it over his ready hole. “I’ll move for us, don’t worry.”

“I know. You’re such a good boy.”

You can’t stop looking away even if you see barely anything in the position except his terribly swollen cock and tensing tummy. You let your eyes flit behind Taehyung. There you go. Now you can see everything. Right there in the reflection of his big ceiling high mirror. 

His feet are tangling over the edge of the chaise lounge, his toes are wiggling. His back is arched as he presents his well-sculpted ass. 

Taehyung lowers himself.

“A-ah”, he lets out in sync with his cock throbbing against your tummy.

“Fuck”, you groan, eyes widening in greedy hunger. Just one second your cockhead was visible and now it’s gone. Hidden in Taehyung’s ass. “Did you just take it?”

“Yes”, he whimpers, lowering himself even more, “oh god, darling”, he gets out, cock twitching continuously as he sinks down on you. 

“Okay this is really hot”, you whisper, gasping with him when he bottoms out. Thighs against ass and strap right inside. The view stirs hot pleasure inside you. 

Taehyung begins moving instantly, holding onto your shoulders while he rocks up and down on your length. Like this, you can watch it appear and disappear repeatedly, looking wetter each and every time.

“This is so fucking hot, oh my god.”

“Touch my hips please”, he begs and you obey instantly, “can you feel them move?” 

His muscles are tensing and shifting with his movements, his skin feels so hot. You squeeze them, gulping heavily. Look at him move, feel him tense, listen to him sigh. This is so goddamn hot.

“I can. That’s really…wow”, you whisper, eyes meeting his gaze. 

It is droopy. Your heart flutters because of it. He moans shakily, moving sensually atop your lap as if he was made for it. And he was. He really fucking was, taking your strap like the best boy he was. 

“Does it feel nice, my darling?” you ask him, caressing his hips.

“Yes, it feels so nice”, he sighs, cupping your face gently, “how does it feel for you?”

“Really good. You’re right, it’s rubbing against my clit.”

“See? I was right”, he lulls and flutters his eyes closed. He lifts his hips and drops them on your lap, ass jiggling because of it. You watch it happen hungrily, heart racing like crazy.

Taehyung moans sweetly, repeating the movement as his fingers slip back to grip your shoulders tightly. “Holy fuck”, he gets out between throaty gasps.

You can’t believe this is happening. You are fucking Taehyung. And he looks so goddamn good taking it. You run your hands to his ass, grabbing a handful of him to knead it. You part him, moaning loudly as this exposes his stuffed hole. In and out, in and out, in and out. He is taking you so well, looking so good doing it. 

“Don’t stop”, he begs, pressing himself closer while his hips draw circles on your length. You are moving his sensitive rim right around your cock with your groping and he loves that sensation like nothing else. He curls his toes, chasing the friction with needy hips. He loves that so much. Loves it so much. 

“This is so hot”, you whisper, “holy fuck.”

You knew that Taehyung wasn’t as dominant as you thought him to be when you first met him, but this is too much. He is so terribly attractive like this. Taking your strap with his face contorted in raw pleasure and his rockhard cock rubbing against your tummy. All while the whiniest little sounds leave his lips. You are seriously the luckiest woman on earth.

“You’re so wet, sweet Tae”, you rasp. You dance your right hand to his cock, holding his buttock with your other to really feel all the flexing he is doing. 

“Empress”, he mewls quietly, furrowing his brows in desperation. You wrap your hand around his cock, grinding your thumb into his frenulum. “Oh god”, Taehyung croaks, falling around your neck.

His head falls against your shoulder, his back arches so he can still reach your strap. He loses some of the depth that way, but he doesn’t care because you are pressing against his prostate while your fingers are toying with his leaking cock and that’s better than anything else.  

“You’re leaking so much. Wow Tae, I’m making you so fucking wet, aren’t I?” you rasp, basking in the deep shiver you send through him because of your words.

“Empress, I’m a wet boy”, he whimpers, gripping the edge of the backrest.

“Yes you are, such a wet boy”, you coo, tightening your arm around his waist and letting your fingers slip between his ass. You have to feel it. You press your fingertips against his hole so you can feel how the strap moves inside him. “that’s how that feels. Damn, that feels good”, you croak.

“My ass is made for you, Empress”, Taehyung moans, arching his back even more just to present himself to your fingers and your greedy eyes. He loves it so much when you feel him up. He wants to be such a good boy for you, tingling like crazy because your touch feels like heaven.

“Yes you are, you’re made for me”, you whisper, trying to meet his movements. It can’t hurt to try, right? 

“O-oh”, Taehyung collapses into you, losing any sort of ability to move, “oh god, ___.”

“Was that right?” you ask him, trying again even if it is difficult with his weight on you.

Taehyung shudders, squeezing the backrest. His moan is muffled by your shoulder, his cock leaks on your fingers.

You try again, “okay but this is really hard to move. How are you always doing that?”

“Shall we change positions?”

“Maybe. I can’t really move.”

“Okay. Stand up, I have an idea.”

Taehyung lies down on the chaise lounge. Head facing the foot end and toes facing the top end. He opens his legs, reaching between them to part himself for you.

“Please back”, he begs.

“You’re so pretty wow”, you whisper, eyes glued to his exposed hole. It looks so empty and wet. You want to fill it up again, show him how good you can make him feel.

You spread a new layer of lube on your strap and get right between his legs, touching his inner left thigh. You hold your cock with your right hand, jerking it off slowly. It feels so warm because of him. 

“Are you ready? I can’t guarantee that I’ll be good”, you ask him, grinding your tip on his greedy hole.

“Please fuck me”, he begs.

You push inside, eliciting a throaty mewl from him. Slipped in so easily. You pressed your fingers against his hole as you did just so you can really feel how it is to breach someone. Quite frankly, it felt heavenly. You push more, watching in delight as Taehyung scrunches his face in bliss because of it.

“I’m in. I’ll move now, yeah?”

He nods his head, arching his back in preparation. You grab his hips and move. Taehyung moans loudly, gripping his own thighs. This was amazing to witness. You want to repeat it just so you can hear him moan again.

“___”, Taehyung moans, gasping for air afterwards.

“Okay, this is amazing what the hell”, you rasp, chasing him in a deep thrust, “this is fucking amazing, holy fuck.”

Your knees are just a little farther than Taehyung’s hips width apart, your thighs are pressing into his softness. Your hands are on his hips, your lower tummy works hard to make the movement possible. And your sweet Taehyung is moaning your name as if it was his only prayer. You thought it impossible to feel so fucking powerful, but here you are. This is the best surge of power you’ve ever felt. You want to keep chasing it. Chasing it until you run on nothing but Taehyung’s sweet moans.

Taehyung throws his legs over your thighs, deepening your connection that way. It’s easier to move like this, sending a surge of confidence through your veins.

“This is so fucking good”, you pant, gripping his thighs just to nudge his legs apart more. You thrust into him, watching it happening. He is moving right around your strap, looking oh so stuffed and stretched. That’s how it looks to fuck. To be the one controlling just how deep someone gets stuffed. No wonder they don’t want to stop once they start. This is the sexiest view ever. You hold his thighs, making sure that he doesn’t hide it from you.

“Don’t stop please”, Taehyung begs, writhing on the cushions sensually, "please ___ please."

“I won’t, this is so much fun” you rasp, “am I moving how you like it?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

“This is so hot”, you moan, feeling oh so good. And not because the strap is grinding right against your clit, but because Taehyung is moaning oh so much. You feel so lightheaded in power. He is made for your strap and you don’t want to stop giving it to him. 

You want to give it to him. You were such a bitch to him lately. He deserves to be showered in attention and spill over in pleasure. It’s the least you can do to mend the cracks. Even if he says that there is nothing to forgive, you know better. If not for him, this is for you. To ease your cracked heart because there is nothing better in this world than seeing Taehyung glow in happy bliss. 

You wrap your fingers around his cock, forcing him to squeak and reach for your hand instantly. He squeezes hard, glassy eyes looking at you pleadingly.

“Too much?” you ask him, moving your hand around his leaking tip and with it forcing him to pull his legs into his chest. Just once and then he drops them again with a giggled moan. 

You twist your hand around his tip, chase the tightness of his hole with a deep thrust. Taehyung squeals, trying to close his legs but you force them apart again, punishing him with quick movements up and down his length. He is growing in your hand, letting you know that despite his whines he is in actual heaven. Not long and you’ll probably struggle with closing your fingers around his base.

“Am I fucking you too good, mhm? Can’t handle it?”

“No”, he squeaks, squeezing your hand.

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop”, you taunt, trying to pull away only to get stopped by Taehyung.

“Please”, he begs, “please, please”, he pleads, moving your hand around his cock.

“You are so adorable”, you rasp, taking over for him. You take his thigh and pull him onto your length, twisting your hand around his cockhead as you do. 

Taehyung arches his back, hips chasing you in desperate wiggles. His fingers fall from your hand to grab the edge of the backrest instead. He squeezes hard, feeling dizzy.

“Please Empress”, his voice is so high in pleasure. 

“It’s okay darling Tae, I’ve got you”, you soothe him, giving him your length in deep rolls of your hips. You have to admit, it is easier to fuck than you thought it is. Maybe it is because you love fucking Taehyung or maybe it’s because you’re a natural, but that shit is so much fun. “Your Empress got you”, you rasp, “I’ve got you so good.”

Taehyung moans and spills tears. You are moving his body, forcing his head to tangle over the edge just enough that his head is starting to pound. And he loves it. Loves all of it. The last ten weeks were torture for him. To watch you lose yourself and to be unable to stop it, broke him over and over again. And left him so upset that desire and sensuality became cruel enemies he didn’t even want to think about. So to have you finally be yourself again leaves Taehyung so goddamn sensitive. He can’t decide what exactly leaves him so sensitive. Happiness, relief, comfort, desperation. Maybe all of it. All he knows is that it feels so good to be touched now that everything was okay again. He missed it so much. Missed it so, so much.

Taehyung arches his back and meets your movements in sloppy rolls of his hips.

“There we go, that’s it. Take my strap, you’re such a good boy”, you praise him, matching his rhythm and with it, turning Taehyung into a mess. He opens his legs further, gripping the edge of the chaise lounge, rolls his head to the side. He is a mess. An honest mess.

“Please don’t stop”, he sobs, “please I’m begging you.”

“It’s okay, I’m not going to stop”, you soothe him, massaging his heated tip deeply.

“Oh my god, it feels so good”, he moans loudly, trembling in pleasure. “oh god, oh my god.”

He loves being a vampire. He is so goddamn into how it makes him feel. How sensitive every inch of his body gets, how easy it is to partake in the best fucking thing because stuff like having to clean out isn’t necessary anymore and how goddamn easy it is to make him dizzy. Taehyung loves his nature so very much when you’re the one touching him, moaning your name with tears rolling down his glowing cheeks.

“My darling”, you speak softly, engulfing his cheek in your tender palm, “look at you crying. Is it that good for you?”

Taehyung whimpers, leaning into your touch until his soft cheek was nuzzled into your palm. He feels so safe right now. He is so vulnerable and weak right now, but you make him feel so safe.

“Good”, he whimpers and sobs softly, reaching up to place his hand over yours.

“You are so freaking pretty”, you whisper breathily, “oh Tae”, you add, trying to kiss him but failing miserably as this only forces his head to tangle even more over the edge.

It makes the both of you chuckle, eyes gazing into the others’ deeply.

“I’ll pull you up, work with me”, you say.

“Yes, okay”, he sighs, squirming sensually when you grab his hips and pull him closer.

“There we go. Now you’re comfy again, yeah?”

“Yes, so safe”, he whispers. Finally, his head stops tangling and you are able to place yourself atop of him. 

Your elbows are propped up on each side of his head, your hips roll into him slowly but oh so deeply. Your chests are melted together. Taehyung can feel your racing heart that way, spilling tears because it feels so good to him. You begin moving again, slow and deep. Taehyung gasps, grabbing your back with trembling fingers. His legs close behind your thighs, trembling weakly.

“There we go, hold onto me”, you encourage him, playing with his hair. It is just a little damp from the heat you share, curling right around your fingers and tickling your skin, “is that good, my darling?”

“Yes, yes it’s so good”, Taehyung croaks and squeaks, “I- ah.” 

“Such a good boy”, you praise, “touch yourself for me, my darling.”

Taehyung reaches between your bodies with one hand to wrap his fingers around his big cock. He gasps and looks into your eyes. The smile you give him makes him droopy, you running your fingers through his hair makes him dizzy. 

“You’re so big, aren’t you?”

He whines a shy “yes”, feeling up his length. He didn’t even witness when he grew into his real size. You feel so good that all he concentrated on was your moving hips and gentle touch. He should be embarrassed about having such little control, but he is proud. You make him feel so good that he loses control and Taehyung is proud to show that off.

“Yes, you are. You are such a good boy, always so big and pretty for me. Mhm?”

Taehyung keens your name and squeezes his eyes shut. He scratches his nails down your back, leaving behind a streak of burning pleasure on your skin. You growl softly in reaction, dropping your forehead against his’.

“You’re such a good boy”, you rasp, voice shaky in lust, “holy fuck, this is the best fucking shit.”

You aren’t aware of it yet, but Taehyung is currently losing control. Having you atop of him, warm skin against warm skin and with your weight putting reassuring pressure on his chest, is too much for him. All of it is too much. Your slow movements, your fingers in his hair, your forehead against his’, the tensing of your back muscles under his fingertips, your praises. Taehyung has never felt that overtaken by the sensations before. He wants to cry and sob and pull you closer. And he does. He pulls you closer, sobbing your name into your shoulder as the new closeness forces you to cage in his head between your arm and head. Your hips falter and lose their rhythm. Taehyung makes up for it instantly, chasing you with needy rolls of his hips and his arms cradling you against his chest.

You chuckle and moan, moving your head so your nose was buried in his hair. You can’t move a lot, but you don’t mind. Being hugged by Taehyung as he chases the pleasure you give him is the best feeling ever. Taehyung’s needy squirming also manages to move the strap enough that your clit gets stimulated in the same needy rhythm and goddamn this feels heaven.

“Feels so fucking good”, you groan, “Tae, holy fuck, this is so good.”

Taehyung answers you in little whimpers and desperate mewls, hugging you closer. He uses just enough of his true strength on you that you know for a fact that he is losing himself in the sensations. Good, honest sex does that him. You realised that much. He may be a master of control on most nights and he may be hiding his nature from you most of the times, but there are those rare, intense moments where his reality shines through and you bask in them like an addict. You close your arm around his head and nuzzle into his hair deeper. It smells like warmth and his lavender shampoo.

“My good boy. My pretty, pretty good boy”, you rasp, making him shake.

“You’re making me climax”, Taehyung whimpers, “I can’t, can’t hold it much longer.”

“You can’t?”

“N-no. Feels so good.”

“It does. It fucking does. My good boy”, you pant, twisting his hair gently. 

“Now please”, he begs, spilling desperate tears.

“Be a good boy for me. There we go. Such a good boy, you’re such a good boy”, you rasp.

Taehyung sobs your name and throws his head back as best as possible, chasing his high with deep rolls of his hips. “ah, a-ah”, he keens, scratching down your back in a desperate attempt not to lose himself completely.

“Good boy, my pretty good boy. Yes Tae, yes cum for me”, you praise him, feeling him shake and tremble. You try to help him, moving your hips as best as the position allows you to. His cock throbs against you, covering your tummies in his high. He is so tight around your strap, making moving almost impossible. But you keep moving, giving him a toe curling high. The kind which will stay in his mind for years to come. 

Three deep strokes and then Taehyung begins fleeing you, despite his vigorous shaking before. He drops his arms from you, gripping the chaise lounge instead. Then he arches his back, squirming desperately.

“Stop, please too much”, he begs, “please too much.”

You chase him, forcing a throaty laugh out of him, “please, darling”, he begs, wiggling up the cushion until his head tangles over the edge again, “please slow, please.”

“Sorry”, you slow down, “I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

Taehyung laughs, raven hair messy and damp from the deep fuck.

“You are so cruel”, he whines, “I’m too sensitive.”

“Yeah?” you try chasing him again. One careful thrust and Taehyung squeezes his thighs together, whining your name. You chuckle, “sorry, I’ll stop. God, you are cute.”

You pull out of him, watching his hole push out the lube. It looks so wet and soft. You reach out and touch it, eliciting a gasp from him.

“Darling please”, he begs, holding your wrist, “I’m too sensitive.”

You snicker, “I can feel that”, you tease, massaging his sensitive rim.

“Please, mercy”, he begs, giggling loudly and with sparkly eyes.

“I just”, you clear your terribly dry throat, “you are so sexy, Tae”, you whisper, tracing his rim. You made it feel like that. You did that to him.

“___”, Taehyung says and laughs, running his own hands to his thighs. He grabs them right next to his cock, squeezing them tightly all while he opens his legs further, “why do you want to torture me?” 

“Sorry”, you whisper, pulling back. You just did that. You fucked Taehyung’s ass. You actually made him cum around your strap. The realisation is leaving you dizzy. “I think I’m too horny for my own good.”

Taehyung lifts his head, “did you climax as well?” he asks you. 

You shake your head, making Taehyung gasp. 

“Why didn’t you say so? Shall I take care of it?”

“I mean….”, you say, rubbing your legs together.

Taehyung sits up with a groan, blinking slowly to get rid of the dizziness in his head.

“Don’t you want to rest a little?” you ask him, touching his chest in case he needs the support.

He shakes his head, “I can’t rest before I know that you are satisfied as well. Please get on your knees.”

You follow, lifting yourself onto your knees so you were kneeling in front of him on the chaise lounge. Taehyung shimmies closer and reaches behind you to open the clasp in the back. He gazes up at you as he does, eyes glassy from his intense high. The harness leaves your body and gets discarded on the floor for now.

Taehyung looks at your core, hands running up and down your buttocks gently.

“You are so beautiful”, he whispers, dropping down onto the chaise lounge and pulling you right with him. Right atop his face.

“Oh! Oh?!” you startle, trying to flee at first until you realise what he was doing. You let him pull you close, hand gripping the edge of the backrest for support.

Taehyung welcomes you with a stuck out tongue, moaning deeply the second your wet pussy connects with him.

“Tae fuck”, you press out in a whisper, letting your head tangle to the front as your every strength leaves you.

You are not going to last long. That much is sure. Fucking Taehyung with such honest and deep intensity brought you to the brink. Only a few more strokes and you probably would have followed him into sweet demise. So to have him run his skilled tongue over your pussy is almost too much. You are close and you are loving it.

“Oh god, it’s so good”, you choke out, twisting a bundle of his hair, “Taehyung….”

Taehyung growls deeply, eyes gazing up at you. You are covering his entire lower face and he loves it, slurping up your taste with hungry desperation. His big hands are on your hips, massaging you deeply. He sucks your clit between his lips.

“Ah”, you let out, mouth falling open and chest lifting as you inhale only to hold your breath. The sensation is too good. You curl your toes, digging your nails into the fabric of the backrest.

Taehyung purrs and sucks again, watching in bliss as you sink into yourself. You grow heavier on his face and Taehyung fucking loves it. He supports you with no struggle, flicking his tongue over your clit quickly with the help of his powers. Quick and fast and oh so sloppy.

You shake, moaning his name loudly. Good. Taehyung wants you to shake. You deserve to shake after how you made him feel. He wants you to feel as ethereal as you made him feel. Maybe even better.

“Now”, you squeak, “Tae now.”

Taehyung doesn’t slow down, growling hungrily as his tongue keeps moving quickly.

You break a second later, convulsing in his strong hold and gasping his name. You wanted to say more, praise him and call him your good boy, but you can’t. Taehyung is making you feel completely and utterly dumb in your high and all you can do is shake and tremble.

This feels so fucking good. You forgot how good orgasms feel. How were you able to miss out on them for ten weeks? This is better than anything.

The shaking stops too soon for your taste. Way too soon. You feel fulfilled and yet desperate for more. You lift yourself. You have no idea why you did that, but you did. You dumb woman lift yourself off of Taehyung’s face, thinking that this was it.

Taehyung lets you know that it very much wasn’t. With the help of his powers he has you pinned against the chaise lounge within seconds, keeping a safe hold on you as he forces your legs open with the help of his strong thighs. He buries two of his long fingers in your pussy, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.

“Ah!” you yelp, eyes widening comically big and lips opening repeatedly as you gasp for air. He pins you down with his weight, keeping you hostage with his burning gaze. His long fingers move right against your g-spot, his thumb makes sure your clit stays as sensitive as possible. The deepest fire spreads through your limbs. Every inch of your middle feels electric.

“Holy fuck”, you gasp, “holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fu- ah!”

Taehyung growls throatily, parting his lips in synch with yours. His lids grow heavy in arousal, barely showing off his ruby eyes. He doesn’t need to say anything. Sounds are enough to let you know that he is feeling just as charged as you do. Which is impossible, because you feel like fucking exploding. You are so sensitive. Stuffed by his fingers and tortured with the best overstimulation after weeks of not knowing how pleasure feels.

Tears leave your eyes and roll down your face, you try to both moan and gasp for air, resulting in the most honest sounds of pleasure you made in a long time.

Taehyung answers you in a deep growl, fingers speeding up to the kind of level which results in you kicking the cushions and arching your back.

“Ah!” you wail, “ah Tae!”

“Climax for me”, he rasps in the deepest voice, forcing you over the edge with a curl of his fingers.

It starts in the deepest parts of your pussy, spreading to your clit and taking the rest of your body by surprise.

“Tae! Oh god Tae! Ah!”

Taehyung keeps moving through your high, ruining you to the point of having to squirt all over his long fingers. He growls deeply as that happens, basking in the burn of your nails as you clasp his arms in panicked desperation. And he keeps moving. Keeps on fucking his fingers into you quickly and deeply, keeps on rubbing your clit, keeps on massaging your g-spot even if that makes the biggest mess between your legs. Because if there is one thing he is good at, it is fingering you so fucking good you feel as if he drilled you with his cock. You are so goddamn perfect when you climax like that. When you squirt until you physically can’t anymore, resulting in you flinching and twitching in his strong arms.

Taehyung pulls his fingers free, allowing the last droplets of your pleasure to drip out of you now that he isn’t plugging you up anymore. He rests his hand on your pussy gently, caressing her with slow movements up and down. The warmth that leaves behind makes you feel just as dizzy as your high does.

You aren’t really present for the next moments, trying to find your way back to him after he ruined you so abysmally. Taehyung kisses every inch of your face as he waits for you to return to him.

Once you do, he is gazing at you with the most beautiful smile ever. You retort it, cupping his face with shaking hands.

“You are incredible”, you whisper, “holy moly, Tae.”

He chuckles softly, flustering cutely.

“I literally feel dizzy.”

“Me too”, he says, letting you pull him closer until you kiss.

Sweetly and slowly. You are both too ruined to kiss any other way. And sadly also way out of breath as seconds later the kiss breaks again.

“You seriously ruined me. I don’t think I can be normal again.”

Taehyung giggles, “me neither. The way you moved your hips will haunt me.”

You chuckle, “so I did well for my first time?”

“You did incredible. You were amazing.”

It is your turn to fluster. Taehyung brushes his thumb over your cheek. Your skin glows so prettily after good sex, he is so fucking obsessed with the view.

“Shall we take a bath together to relax?” he suggests.

“I would love that, my darling”, you say, nodding your head enthusiastically.

“Me too, oh darling”, Taehyung smiles.

Moments later you are sharing a bath, sitting face to face and with your limbs entangled. Candlelight is filling the room, the scent of honey tickles your nose and slow jazz music keeps you company. You are caressing Taehyung’s back and he does the same to you, eyes racing between yours.

“I think we are different than we were when we met”, he whispers into the silence.

“I think so too. We’re different.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever have the same relationship again.”

You look at him in slight confusion.

“Too much happened. Too many moments of doubt and betrayal and hurt. I don’t think that we can ever go back to the way we were”, he explains himself.

“I don’t understand. Are you breaking up with me?”

“On the contrary. I just…want us to be better from now on. More honest. When was the last time we sat down and talked about us? Did we ever?”

You shake your head, “I don’t know if we ever did, actually”, you confess. 

“I can’t remember either. I am so terrible at being honest with how I truly feel. When it comes to true honesty, I struggle a lot, so I tend to avoid deeply emotional conversations.”

“I think you’re pretty good at it. I suck at it more than you do.”

Taehyung chuckles, as do you. 

“So tell me, Tae. Be honest.”

“I don’t know. When I look at you these days I see someone different. You are better, but still so different. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened had I fled that night.”

“What night are you talking about?”

“The night Namjoon forced me to hunt you down. Had I been one second faster, our lives could look so much different now. I wonder if we would still be together or if we would already be broken up. Would we have ever found Jimin? Would he have even died in the first place? Would you have ever fallen in love with Yoongi?”

You furrow your brows. 

“I keep wondering if the universe would have still found a way to bring the two of you together”, he smiles, “I think he changed you the most out of all of us. I think if we hadn’t went through everything we did, I would have hurt you in the long run. But Yoongi helped you be better.”

You lower your eyes shyly.

“I really hated that you were with him”. Taehyung confesses, making you look at him in shock, “for the longest time I really hated that you were with him and I was angry at you for falling in love with him. But I see it now. You love him as I love Jimin and it doesn’t mean that you love me less, because I don’t love you less either despite Jimin.”

You smile.

“I don’t hate it anymore. I’m happy that you found each other. I really am.” 

“I’m happy too. So happy. I seriously haven’t ever been as happy in my life as I am ever since I’m with you guys.”

Taehyung smiles. 

“And I’m happy for you too. I didn’t like Jimin at first and I wanted him gone because of how he treated you. But I understand these days that he is traumatised and that he just needed a push into the right direction. Kindness isn’t easy for him because it hurt him in the past.”

Taehyung nods hid head.

“I like Jimin these days. He is a great friend and makes you happy. I want you to be happy, Tae.”

“I am. I am happy. I really am.”

“Good. I hope you always will be.”

“I wish the same for you.”

Your eyes race between each other. The air is heavy in emotion. Your hearts beat in sync. Deep understanding lies between you and him. Your relationship as it was has long ended, but this wasn’t the end. 

Taehyung reaches for your face. Water leaves your skin wet, but you don’t mind.

“We can’t go back to how we were, can we?” he asks, intertwining his fingers with you.

“No, we can’t.”

“We have other people now. We don’t love solely each other, but we love more people. Back then we were so naive and stupidly attracted to each other, but we aren’t anymore.”

“That’s not true. I’m still stupidly attracted to you.”

“I feel the same. I just meant that our attraction is different these days. We went through shit together. We saw each other at our worst. Hurt each other. Apologised. Our attraction isn’t based solely on physicality anymore, it’s based on our shared story.”

You smile.

“I like that. It means that it’s real.”

Taehyung smiles.

“Yes. It means that it is real. And that it will withstand even the worst.”

“Only to come out stronger in the end.”

He squeezes your cheeks gently. You squeeze his waist right back.

“I want to be with you for life and I don’t know if I can go back to how we were. I want us to be deeper than we were back then. I want us to know that times will get hard, but we will always have each other. I want us to know that even if we spend some time apart and see other people, our love won’t grow less because of it.”

“I want the same, Tae. I want us to be deeper and more real.”

He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. 

“I truly love you, ___. Most ardently and with my entire heart.”

“I love you too, Taehyung. Greatly and deeply.” 

“So let’s end this. Let’s end this to finally begin again.”

You smile, “yes, let’s end this to finally begin again.” 

“It’s over.”

“It’s over.”

You draw closer, holding hands while your eyes lose themselves in each other.

“___, do you want to be my forever family?” 

“Yes, Taehyung. I do. I fucking do.”

Taehyung laughs and places his hand on the nape of your neck. You laugh, closing your eyes as he pulls you into a kiss. Deep and full of love. You did it. You left the past and finally live in the present, holding each other close on your journey into a sweet future. Nothing can stop you now.

[kosmicdream]

Please don’t think of me as a male artist.

..is what i used to feel, for many years, even when I finally came out as trans. In a way, its one of the factors that kept me from pursuing HRT (which im so glad i finally did.) After only one year, my feeling on this hasn’t evaporated completely but i suppose I kind of don’t care anymore about how I am interpreted, as a person/artist, ect.. It isn’t something i can be in control of anyway, which upsets me less than it used to.

Sometimes in the past, the way i write characters has often been analyzed by the gender I am, or appear to be - that my male characters were written like how a woman writes men (too emotional/vulnerable, ect) , or how my female characters are written thoughtlessly- like how a man would. (too horny, stupid, violent, ect.) Its not a new way to analyze a story but I can’t say that it doesn’t annoy me. It could still be true that my characters/writing could fall into sexist/problematic archetypes, but gendering my work based on the way my characters act always reminds me of the “you draw like a girl/boy” comments, which used to be more frequent when i was a teen.. But the idea that boys = angular, good at cars! Or something and girls are, i dunno, gonna draw sexy anime men or something. Even as a teenager, i hated this idea that my art was “girl art.” Truthfully, i always viewed my art and myself as an artist as genderfluid, maybe even a type of drag performance, where i can explore any gender and not be limited by my body, it was my escape from that. Which naturally, it became my place to explore gender presentation and eventually helped me “crack my egg” of realizing i was a trans man.

I do think its important to reflect or regard my work as the art made by a trans man, or transmasculine person. I feel more and more just like “just a dude” these days. I am also a gay man. I think those things are important to my work. I think that the analysis of my work in regards to my identity as a person is important to reflect on. I also think the steps I took to get there were important, that transformation and my continued exploration of my older selves and more “label-less” self in the art i make. That’s a private space for me, that I happen to share with the world too. I feel the audience is part of my work too, I welcome it even. I have become part of the audience too and I look at my work as if I’m also a stranger. The older my work gets, the more of it I can study, the more I can see plainly how I got here and also it feels so confusing how it did. I try to study my art to help me find where I want to go to next, a map to guide me. 

In some ways, I feel more lost than I did before, where all my instinct was pushing me was just to grow and explore as much as possible. Now, I don’t have that same type of energy that I used to. Its not a bad thing, its just different. There’s a sense of duty and commitment and a sense of dread of the time it takes to do what I feel compelled to do on this step of my journey. I am trying to focus more on the things I used to think I was incapable of before and I’m trying to remember the things I used to think were so effortless. I can tell my art is sharper but it feels almost like a mimicry of my older selves - at least when I revisit old work to continue its journey past where its been frozen in time. Comics take a long time, after all, it's normal that after a few years - a story might be yours, but it feels like it belongs to the past of you too, maybe more than it does in the present. I like the commitment I have to my comics though, its not a burden to me. The feeling is strange anyway. 

I tend to think that 1-3 years of a project being made, those are the honeymoon years of the relationship. But you hit a wall in 4-5 years and sometimes you’re in denial about it, you try to keep the dreams and feeling alive as you drag it forward, and sometimes the project really reaches its end around 8-10 years and it becomes a type of empty promise to return to it. Not that this is true for every artist, every project, ect. But I think its a natural lifespan for comics that I’ve observed, and it's because it is uncomfortable to face morality and the morality of our own art. Art is this escape, and when it becomes a job - or an uncomfortable mirror into these things about ourselves, about our failures and promises we couldn’t manage to make, the pressures of the audience, the boredom of the task if you have already told yourself the story a thousand times and you have no longer a desire to continue it, ect - its a normal and natural feeling to want to drop it off a cliff. Blow it up, start over fresh - I know the feeling! Its happened many times. But its kind of temporary? Then, it cycles back to nostalgia - and the desire to create and recreate and reform the past to something tangible again.. uh

Sorry, sorry.. I am getting far from the point I started with. Not that any of this makes too much sense, I feel like writing it anyway. It bothers me that the fantasy of art to me, is the ability to dissolve yourself and stop existing, you are the creator creating. You don’t need to be confined by, really anything. It is in “your control” now, and you surrender your own control by falling into the art and letting it “lead you” places. This is a very seductive process and while it might temporarily be fulfilling (even when done for a lifetime) cannot really.. What.. completely fill the void of whatever you’re chasing down there? Its nice though. At least, when I think about when i first started drawing comics, it was to draw Vash the Stampede (from the original 98 anime series, i hate the new one. We’re not talking about there here) coming out of my television after a thunderstorm and he had to just live in my house now. It was the closest thing I could do to actually manifesting that as reality, of making this amazing anime husband come to life to just like live with me now and be my boyfriend. In a lot of ways I don’t see my pursuit of writing ocs, specifically male ones, really much different from this same desire of like “i can just make my perfect boyfriend!” born out of the loneliness I felt in my heart, and the fear that there is no boyfriend out there for me so i need to frankenstein my own - and this boyfriend will be poifect in every way. Or like, crafting the perfect “relationship” in replace the lack of one, or just the fantasy of watching very abstract extremes come to life in various puppets i crafted, beating the shit out of each other for entertainment. But to subject all these.. Abstract Internal conflicts as simply like a “boy author thing” or “girl author thing” is like.. Tiring. Are we really not past that? (Of course not.) 

Like there’s some hidden truth to the way someone might write/draw, the way that “makes sense” in retrospect once the identity of the author is analyzed and discovered.. How can you make sense of the self, let alone the other .. and In a way that’s permanent? And gendered? Does art now have an inherent sex characteristic? But I cannot deny that I do want my art to look and feel like part of who I am, what I have chosen to sexually identify as - a transgender, a man, a faggot. I DO identify as a sexual deviant, but that is hilarious because I have been single for so long at this point I can’t even remember in a tangible way what that felt like and I question if I ever felt it or experienced it “for realsies” because of the experiences I have had or havent didn’t feel very fulfilling or romantic, despite that being something I desire so much - and so I feel like a failure. And to create art just based on the fantasy of desire rather than the lived reality, can it even really display what that would actually be like. So its embarrassing, right? 

I have worked on my art a lot and I have often thought, or come to the conclusion (true or not) that my singleness is the result of my pursuit and dedication to art - which is the pursuit of self isolation and protection from harm. From influence, from acknowledging that life can exist and someday end. And when you work on projects for years and years, the pride/shame dichotomy only gets more.. Weird. It gets weird, guys! It always was weird, but.. I just think about so many my heroes, my art inspirations, working decades on their art.. I follow in their footsteps too and it feels scarier and lonelier than I expected it to be. And the more and more I realized that as a reality, as my 20s faded away, the more I kept walking. I wasn’t gonna stop now, even if I could, I don’t want to and its not hard to do other things too. I have a slower pace than I used to (thank god) and gets slower but I’m still moving. 

I don’t post or write my little art journals as much as I used to. Mostly cause I don’t really have anything good to say and it kinda feels embarrassing to post them too LOL. But.. whatever!! Its been a weird four months of me being off work and I’m about to go back to being a normal working person again.. But its like, its weird to tell people about your art when they ask about what you do. Its like “oh yeah, i draw webcomics” and they wont get it, you’ll say - “yeah its 8,000 pages long” and they’ll say, “thats a lot!” and it is. They’re very nice about it, but there’s a lack of satisfaction there with what that means. I don’t expect it, that’d be dumb as hell. Its nice to take a break from it too, to discover other sides of myself I never let shine because i stayed indoors for a decade, but its a weird feeling too. Like, what will it mean in the end? I don’t really know. 

I don’t think I need “success” to feel like this was worth it, its not like a trophy is gonna come in the mail for the good workTM I’ve done - there is no closure to the work I make even when a story finishes. I have to keep going regardless of that, and its strange to know it won’t ever feel done. But I am so thirsty for that temporary itch to be scratched, it keeps me working every day for the “maybe” of what that might feel like. Kinda silly, really. Is it my “male” pride that demands recognition? Would respect be given more freely if I had “remained” to be perceived as a woman, for subverting the expectations for what a woman can/can’t write? (lol) Is my value as a person determined by that sort of thing in my art? I don’t think of my pride as gendered, but I know its there and I know because of who I say I am, my pride will be gendered by others. I think when I was a woman, that pissed me off more than now because.. Well.. I wasn’t even living as the way i wanted to. I still don’t really live as the way I want to, the way I want to be perceived, but even being on HRT for a little more than 1 year, without much else lifestyle changes, I feel a little more at peace not mattering what others will take away from me or what i write about. I have a lot of my own expectations for myself and what i write about and that concerns me far more. 

I don’t really know how else to end this, I’m going to eat chocolate now. Oh, to answer your question (?) if you might have this one: can I think of you as a male artist, kosmic? sure. I am one after all.

[crow-aeris]

The og post here :3

i just wanted to expand on this world a bit (and also cos im tired and need an excuse to procrastinate both my schoolwork AND my other fics 😙)

Also, if enough ppl show interest, I’ll probably continue this au/world/verse/thing

=====

Bruce never wanted kids- never. It's not because he hated kids or something like that- it was the complete opposite, he loved kids. Every time he goes out on the street, every time he dons that cowl and cape, every time he streaks through the air with vengeance screeching in his soul, Bruce does it for the children.

He loves children, and he wants ones of his own. He wants to hear their gleeful smiles, their bubbly laughter as little feet pitter down the halls of the open manor. He was to see their bright round eyes blink up at him with soul-searing love that he'd return without a single beat of hesitation. He wants to cradle their little face in his palms, sing them gentle lullabies and read them little story books to help them sleep.

But... He can't have that. Batman can't have that- Bruce can't have that.

This crusade- his crusade- against crime... he can't involve a child. Even if it shreds his heart apart and leaves this ever-growing monster of loneliness and isolation clawing and tearing at his chest... he won't ever involve a child in his messy coping mechanism.

So, rather than settling down like the board members (and Alfred) wish for him to do and make heirs to Wayne Enterprises, Bruce continues to go out every night, waging his war on crime. He was content to do so too, but… But it seems like the universe had other plans for him.

Bruce watched in quiet horror, Alfred tensing beside him as the Flying Grasons fell. Their son freezes, watching as dark crimson spills across the ground, the sound of bones snapping was lost in the cacophony of screams, the piercing and wailing faded to the background as Bruce shoved to his feet, hiis limbs moving without Bruce’s prompting as he surged forward, shrugging off his coat and draped it across the boy’s- Richard’s- shoulders as Alfred hurriedly called the police.

The boy jolted, turning his bright, watery, sapphire eyes onto Bruce- filled with uncertainty and anguish… Bruce was reminded of his that fateful night on their way to the theater, the sound of pearls clacking against the concrete pavement, echoed by the sound of gunshots, screaming, and red-red-red.

Sympathy seized Bruce’s throat like a vicious creature, and Bruce could barely shove away the need to gather Richard into his arms and sweep him away.

But, after Alfred’s pointed glare, Bruce reluctantly tries to hand the boy over… only for him to wail, clinging to Bruce’s shirt with fearful and wild eyes.

“Don’t- PLEASE!” Richard screams, writhing in the cop’s hold, “LET GO OF ME!”

Bruce was instantly at his son the boy’s side, prying the man’s hands from Richard’s shoulder with a narrowed eye glare so uncharacteristic of “Brucie” Wayne.

“We have to question the kid,” the cop tried to reach for the boy once again, but Bruce neatly twists away to keep Richard away from the man.

Bruce huffs, glaring at the man from the corner of his eyes, “You can do that later! He is very clearly distressed, young man, and I will not have you upsetting him any further!”

Without another word, Bruce turns away and headed toward Gordan with the eight-year-old balanced against his hips.

———

Bruce welcomes Richard- Dick- into the manor after a few weeks of battling with Gotham’s horrid foster system. The boy had a pale pelt clutched between his hands alongside the heavy coat Bruce had given him on that dreadful night.

“Do- do you want it back?” Dick had asked, his hands tightened around the coat before brandishing the garment with shaking, trembling hands.

He falters, swallowing thickly before gently pushing the coat back into the kid’s arms, “It’s okay, chum. I was just curious. You can keep it, okay? I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” the boy had asked.

“Of course I’m sure.”

Bruce smiles, slowly and gently stroking a hand through the boy’s thick hair.

Maybe… maybe having children wasn’t a bad idea?

[thecapricunt1616]

Promptober Day 3 👻

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 (𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭) : “We aren’t gonna die, Syd. Can you fuckin find your head it’s startin’ t’freak me out that I’m the calm one so far” he said, turning the fog lights on as well.  “Can we please just stop somewhere like- like- a rest stop or something? Until this passes ahh! Oh my god!” Syd screeches as the car slides for a moment over black ice and grabs onto Carmys knee for comfort. He jumped at her scream, gripping tighter at the wheel “Syd there’s no rest stops we’re in the middle of the fucking Italian valley!” He said frustratedly and she awkwardly removed her hand from his thigh. Shit. She thought to herself, he was right.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: AAA Welcome to Promptober day 3 featuring our loves Syd and Carmy! No smut this time, but I haven't written them in a minute so I wanted to warm myself back up with some cute fluffy fluff! I hope you enjoy 😊 Reminder that you can view my schedule & masterlist for this celebration right 🦇here🦇! You can also view the same for my 2024 Kinktober celebration right 🎃here🎃! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, just comment on the according masterlist & I will add you going forward! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2K 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Fluffy fluff, only 1 bed trope, Swearing, Anxious Syd & Carmy haha 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬: @/𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐤𝐚-𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐬

“Jesus Christ this fuckin came outta nowhere” Carmy mutters. The windshield wipers on their rental car were going as fast as they could, but he was still having a hard time seeing the road. 

“Carmy I told you this was a bad idea! Were literally gonna spin out and die. I knew it was gonna snow!” Sydney huffs, turning down the radio more because she had anxiety that Carmy wasn’t seeing as well with that as a distraction. 

“We aren’t gonna die, Syd. Can you fuckin find your head it’s startin’ t’freak me out that I’m the calm one so far” he said, turning the fog lights on as well. 

“Can we please just stop somewhere like- like- a rest stop or something? Until this passes ahh! Oh my god!” Syd screeches as the car slides for a moment over black ice and grabs onto Carmys knee for comfort. 

He jumped at her scream, gripping tighter at the wheel “Syd there’s no rest stops we’re in the middle of the fucking Italian valley!” He said frustratedly and she awkwardly removed her hand from his thigh. Shit. She thought to herself, he was right. 

They had come to Italy for some new culinary inspiration, but also to put in a special order for a certain type of cheese that you couldn’t have shipped by the company so Carmy was going to vacuum seal it and buy a special bag for it to take it back with them. 

It wasn’t that that she thought was fucking crazy, it was going to a town that was famously known for its Skiing 2 weeks before thanksgiving. Meaning winter was just starting to pick up, and they’d likely get caught in a blizzard. 

As much as Carmy tried to convince her that per the weather app it was just going to be bitterly cold the week he had planned for them to go, Syd had a bad feeling that the weather would take a turn for the worse and they’d get caught in a blizzard, and per usual- Syd was right. Thankfully in the distance, they saw lights indicating a business of some kind. 

“Oh thank god. Were stopping.” She said more as a statement then a question, if she was honest with herself it sounded quite like a demand.

“Yes Syd, we’re stopping” Carmy sighed a bit. Not because he was upset with her, but because she proved him wrong - yet again. There was a light above the sign that read “Columbina Albergo” Carmy wasn’t too good at Italian, but he quickly understood the hotel to be called Little Dove Motel. 

It made his heart skip a beat, how romantic could a motel be. A dead one at that. There was only 2 other cars there, and the place wasn’t the most slightly- but it would do. “Alright I guess…uh. Yeah let’s go get a room I guess? I’m sure they uh have…double beds” Carmy said as he turned off the car and pulled up the hood of his white hoodie and opened the car door. 

The wind nearly stole Sydney’s blood orange and floral patterned scarf and she quickly grabbed it walking quicker as Carmy held the door open for her. 

“Buona Sera!” The woman at the counter chirps and Carmy nods politely. 

“Buona sera! Uhh… unaaaa…” he thinks for a moment trying to recall the bit of Italian he’d brushed up on before they came over “ah! Per favore, Una letto matrimoniale” He said and the woman nodded pointing to the sign that read it was €30 per night. He dug out his wallet and handed over 3 €10 notes and she put it in her register before grabbing the hanging set of keys with the room number and handing them over 

“Grazie, Buonanotte” she said and Carmy nodded, turning to Syd and handing her the keys 

“It’s room 11, I’ll bring your stuff just go warm up s’cold out there” he said, opening the door for her again. Even though it was freezing, she felt her cheeks flush with heat at how gentlemanly he was being. 

“Yeah send me into some random motel room where there could be a killer lying in wait?” She teased, heading down the row of rooms to find number 11. 

“You have a big mouth. Just scream an' I’ll come running don’t worry” Carmy mused, unlocking the rental car to gather the suitcases. By the time he got to the room, Syd was sitting on the single full sized bed with a teasing smirk. 

“You need to brush up on your Italian more, Chef” 

Carmys cheeks heat to a deep shade of pink, looking around the room to see that there was no  couch, just a small arm chair and he sighs deeply, rubbing over his face and tossing his pillow on the floor 

“You can have the bed” he muttered, tossing her her backpack and she giggled a bit

“What- scared I’m gonna touch you? We can put pillows between us if you want” she said and he raised his brows, looking at her in slight disbelief. 

“No- no m’not scared just…I dunno if you’re seein’ someone I wouldn’t want my girlfriend sleeping with her business partner” he said before he could think and he rubs his chin nervously as she started cracking up. 

“Yeah. No im not seeing anyone, but also don’t go saying you slept with me on this trip, I don’t want that rumor on my name” she teased as she opened her backpack, grabbing her pajamas “I’m gonna call the bathroom first, so…just call me when you’re changed I guess” she said and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. 

Carmys heart was thumping, he could have sworn he had requested a room with a double bed, and the office hours listed on the door said they had made it just in time before she closed for the night - so no switching. 

He quickly tugged off his jeans and hoodie, putting on a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants, pulling the sheets back and getting the pillows situated. Carmy had a crush on Sydney since he’d met her, but of course, with his testy past with relationships - he was afraid that persuing someone he held so dearly to him would quickly end up in explosive flames. 

On the other side of the bathroom door, Sydney was in a similar panic, currently asking herself if she should keep her bra on, because it was like - respectful or whatever, or if she could be comfortable and take it off. She weighed it in her head for a good 5 minutes before hearing Carmy clear his throat and say 

“Uh- Syd n-not rushin’ you- jus’ wondering if you wanted to watch that movie still?” He called through the door. 

She quickly decided it would be better to just take it off so her back wouldn’t hurt in the morning and quickly puts on her old childish gambino shirt and a pair of sofee sleep shorts and opened the door “yeah- yeah” she swallows thickly when she saw that Carmy had a clear dick print in his grey sweats. 

“Okay- cmon” he patted the bed next to him, grabbing his laptop from his bag and resting it on his lap as he turns it on. 

She sits next to him, criss cross, her knee draped over his thigh because they were so close. Carmy felt as if his hands were shaking, Syd felt as if her heart was going to fly out of her chest at any moment.  It was going to be a long night.

Fin

Tag List: @carmenberzattosgf @daysofyellowroses @mouseymilkovich @gallaghersgal @carmybrainworms @l4long-winded @babyspiderling @southsideserendipity @djlnkaled

[pastanest]

Requested by: @neymarjrrwife, I really hope you like it!! ♡

A/N: for this, we’re going to pretend Ygritte was never romantically involved with Jonny boy :) also, this unintentionally evolved into my favourite trope of all time...yep, you guessed it...thERE'S ONLY ONE BED

Jon Snow x she/her!reader

A Song Of Sunshine And Snow

The knock at his door causes an immediate conflict of emotions within the newly nominated Lord Commander. While he welcomes any distraction from the paper-bound responsibilities of his new role that bore him beyond belief, any interruption when he is shut in his quarters usually brings about an unpleasant circumstance that he is the one now trusted to resolve. 

Sighing, Jon Snow lifts his tired eyes from the seemingly endless rolls of parchment on his desk and looks to the door. “Come in.”

With a sense of urgency, Samwell Tarly bundles through the door and Jon has to resist rolling his eyes, immediately parting his lips to remind his best friend that he does not need to knock to come and see him, regardless of his new status, but Sam does not allow him the chance to speak.

“There is a girl, Jon! A girl at the gates of Castle Black! The brothers there, well- Gods only know what they’ll do to her if left unchecked!”

Instantly, Jon stands to his feet, reaches for his fur cloak and storms out of his quarters, wrapping it around his shoulders and clasping it as he marches down the stairs and out into the courtyard. There, several brothers have gathered in a crowded circle, surrounding some poor soul in the centre in eerie silence, staring eyes in every visible direction. 

“Seven hells, let her through!” Jon orders in a thunderous voice, parting the men until a path is formed. 

And there, standing in the middle of the shocked men, lacking the terror he expects and instead showing only a slightly nervous smile, is you.

Eyeing Jon up and down and sensing his authority, you breathe a sigh of relief. “Hello, are you the Lord Commander?”

Blinking rapidly, he nods, struggling to comprehend the boldness in your voice. “Aye, and who are you? What brings you to Castle Black?”

At that, you sigh. “Well, it’s not a very nice story, but an unfortunately common one these days. My village was raised to the ground by Ramsay Bolton for refusing to stand with him, and…I have nowhere else to go. My brother is here, you see, and I wanted to deliver the news to him myself, of our family. I understand it is against the rules of the wall for a girl to stay here, so I only wish to seek refuge until I can be directed somewhere safe to stay. My name is (Y/N)”

Again, you shock Jon with the way in which you recall the devastation that has led to your arrival. While he can see you have been upset by the events you describe, you have seemingly already come to terms with them enough to set your hopes on being reunited with your brother and then starting a new life somewhere else. A positive outlook like that is a rarity, in these parts especially, Jon thinks to himself.

“I’m sorry to hear of the loss of your village, we’d be more than happy to serve as your asylum. What is your brother’s name? If he’s not beyond the wall, I’ll take you to him myself, but if he is, you have my permission to stay until his return.” His promise to you is sincere, and the expressions on the surrounding men’s faces is enough to suggest he is going against tradition in his offer, but as a man before a brother of the Night’s Watch, Jon Snow cannot possibly turn you away. 

“Thank you, Lord Commander. My brother’s name is Gaius-”

One of the men earns a harsh frown from Jon as he interrupts you, but when the Lord Commander realizes the man was simply calling out your family name to confirm that he knew your brother and his whereabouts, the frown falls from Jon’s face. 

“Thank you, brother. Gaius is on watch, you say?” Jon clarifies, earning an “Aye” from within the crowd of men, before nodding and looking back to you. “Follow me, my Lady.”

Having a man as important as the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch refer to you with the formalities of someone highborn is enough to bring a bright smile to your face, but the fact that such a man has already shown you such kindness, too? You are certain that in the whispers you had heard in your village of Lord Commanders of old, none had been regarded as kind. 

Without a word, you follow the fur cloak and inky curls towards a man-operated mineshaft of some description, and when you look up to see just how high the contraption goes against the track built into the wall itself, your mouth falls open. Standing inside what looks, to you, like a large wooden crate, Jon Snow takes a moment to admire the expression of wonder on your face, again without fear. 

“My mother says the wall touches the sky and is the closest to the Gods most men will get!” You tell him, voice excitable as you hurry into the contraption and stand beside him. Realizing what you had said, your smile falters slightly. “Or, she used to say, I suppose.”

Jon’s eyes are full of sympathy as he looks down at you, watching as your eyes dart around every opening in the crate to see the world from new heights as the lift ascends. 

“I’m sorry for what, and who, you have lost.” His voice is quieter this time, less formal now that the two of you are without witnesses.

“It’s alright, I consider myself lucky to still have my brother when so many have nobody. Living on the wall must be such a lonely life, in that way. In a position like yours, I can't imagine how difficult it must be for you to stay if your family were in any kind of trouble. I’m sorry that this place forces that weight on you, and your brothers.” You meet his eyes, and Jon cannot believe that he sees his own sympathy for you reflected in your eyes for him, without you knowing anything of him or the hardships he has faced. 

“Thank you, but it is part of the Oath that every brother of the watch must take, it’s something that we agree to.” Jon explains, and you shrug.

“Doesn’t mean it hurts any less when that gets tested, though, I’m sure.” 

Jon breaks eye contact with you to stare straight ahead. “Aye.”

For a moment, he loses himself to thoughts of what he has lost, what he doesn’t know for certain if he has lost or not, due to his position here.

It doesn’t take you long to break the silence and pull him back to the present. “What’s your name, Lord Commander?”

“Jon Snow.” He answers.

“And does the wall touch the sky, Jon Snow?” You ask him, bringing the first chuckle from his lips that he has heard in a time he truly can't remember. 

“No, my Lady, I’m afraid it does not.” 

Feeling victorious in your mission to bring a smile to the stoic man’s face, you can’t help grinning. “That’s a shame. Still, I bet the world’s pretty from up there, and I’ve never seen the other side before! What’s it like?”

He hates to admit it, but the genuine curiosity that laces your excited words is melting the layer of ice that’s formed around his heart in the years he has spent living a life as cold and harsh as this. 

“You’ll see soon enough.” Jon tries his best to hold onto some kind of professional composure, but the smile you’ve brought him simply will not leave as long as you are still standing at his side.

To his absolute astonishment, you nudge him playfully. You, a stranger, a woman from a village he doesn’t know, having known him no more than ten minutes, have playfully nudged the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, like he’s no more than a childhood friend to you.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re really not going to tell me anything? You’re going to make me wait until we get to the top? Don’t be a bore, give me something to picture before we get there!”

And he’s laughing again. Jon Snow is really, properly laughing and shaking his head in utter disbelief at the existence of you, wondering where such a jewel has been hiding all this time and how the sun hasn’t caught sight of you to create a shining trail that would have guided him straight to you before today. 

“It’s snow and ice and trees, as far as the eye can see; there really is not much more to report, I’m afraid.”

Scoffing, roll your eyes. “That’s incredibly underwhelming. Perhaps the best view to be seen from the wall will continue to be the pretty face of Lord Commander Jon Snow?”

By the time you’ve asked your rhetorical question, the elevator has reached the top of the wall, and you are already stepping out of it, looking over your shoulder at the man you have just frozen in place with a bright smile.

“You can't take a wife, I know, but who’s to say a girl can’t flirt with you every now and then?” 

And Jon Snow can’t speak. In all his years, he has never known himself to become so flustered as to lose all memory of every word he has ever known. He is a man, the Lord Commander of the brotherhood that protects the realms of men, and you have reduced him to a blushing, bashful boy. Seven hells. Giggling to yourself and the impact you have clearly had on him, you walk over to the closest edge of the wall and peer over the other side, gasping quietly at the sight of a world you’d never seen before, and then the world you’d always known on the side you came from, but never thought you’d see from a bird’s eye view.

The rest of the men on watch have all ceased their conversations in shocked silence at the vision of an actual, real woman at the top of the wall. At first, they consider the possibility of whether you are no more than a mirage, but upon realizing they are all staring in the same direction, conclude you really are in front of them. Their stares do not seem to phase you, but Jon Snow does not appreciate the looks some of them are giving you. 

Stepping out of the elevator, he frowns at them. “Keep your eyes beyond the wall, men.”

One of them, a younger one who looks to be not much older than a boy, gulps nervously. “B-But, Lord Commander, that’s a-”

Jon interrupts him. “A woman, brother, not a giant. Focus your eyes on the danger you are here to watch for.” 

The young man nods frantically, turning hurriedly to look back at the same view beyond the wall that you are yet to tear your own gaze from. 

“Send for Gaius, tell him his sister is here!” Jon calls, deciding to summon your brother to you rather than lead you along the wall and increase the number of men that have gawked at you this evening, which is already far too high, in his opinion.

A couple of men set off along the wall in search of your brother, and as they go, Jon’s eyes gravitate back to you. With a soft smile on his face, he watches you dart from one side of the wall to the other, peering over both sides as if making a mental list of their differences for some unknown reason. Suddenly, you gasp again.

“Is that direwolf a member of the Night’s Watch?” 

Strolling over to stand at your side and peer down at the courtyard with you, Jon chuckles. “That’s Ghost, and I suppose he is, but he was with me before I came here.”

The expression on your face as you slowly turn to him is, no doubt, the most shocked he has seen you thus far. More surprised than you were when standing in the crowd of men on your arrival, and more in awe still than you were when you first looked over the wall.

“You have a direwolf? Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, prettiest man on the wall, has a direwolf?!” 

Approaching from behind you, three men return, one with a resemblance to you that the blushing Lord Commander does not miss as he glances over your shoulder. Having heard your remark, your brother rolls his eyes and groans in annoyance. 

“Gods, (Y/N), please do not flirt with him, of all the men here!” 

Jon watches the smile that reaches your eyes in acknowledging the sound of your brother’s voice, his heart fracturing in his chest when a sadness within you slowly fills your eyes. Turning to face your brother, Gaius reads your expression and frowns in concern, his previous humor gone.

Once in front of Gaius, you pull him down to hug you, and the sympathy Jon feels for you as your brother clutches onto you, the heartbreaking news of the village you had both grown up in having been destroyed in its entirety, your family going up in the flames, too, reaching your brother’s ears, is enough to bring a physical ache to the Lord Commander’s chest. Leaving you to a private moment with the only family you have left, Jon passes you both to receive updates from the men on watch of anything they may have seen while on duty. He knows that if there was anything to report, he would have been informed of it already, but keeping their attention on him distracts them from the conversation between yourself and your brother, and means Jon himself does not have to focus his full attention on listening to them in his current state of worrying for your wellbeing. 

After a few minutes, Jon returns to the two of you, seeing you have broken from your embrace and are instead wiping your brother’s tears, though none fall from your eyes, Jon notices. 

“Gaius, you are relieved of your duties tonight. Please, take all the time you need.” 

Sniffling, your brother nods gratefully. “Thank you, Lord Commander.”

Nodding along with him, you send Jon a meaningful glance and then return to the lift, an arm around your brother’s middle to guide him in his dazed state. 

With sorrowful eyes that lock with yours, Jon watches the two of you descend the wall until you disappear from his line of sight. 

For the rest of the evening, Jon Snow busies himself with as much as he can before the obligation to return to the parchment he has allowed himself to be distracted from begins to suffocate him. The only thing that had truly been able to distract him has, very predictably, been you, but not in the way he had anticipated. Naturally, he loses himself to thoughts of your smile, the things you’d said, how he’d felt when you were close. But more than that, Jon Snow found himself missing you the moment he could no longer see you. The positivity that you radiate everywhere you go, the kindness and lighthearted nature with which you carry yourself, every aspect of you that he knows so far is addictive in a way that he simply can’t explain. The longer he is away from you, the more certain he becomes that some part of him has been missing you through every event of his life thus far, he just didn’t know that it was you he had been missing until today.

Expecting to return to the less entertaining parts of his duty, he trudges back to the Lord Comander’s office, which he must now regard as his own. Upon reaching the door, however, he finds you petting Ghost’s head and smiling down at him. 

“I see you’ve made fast friends.” Jon greets you with a soft voice, heart already dancing in his chest at the sight of you.

The smile you had previously been giving Ghost moves to Jon and brightens. “Definitely! The news tired my brother out, naturally, so I thought it best to send him to bed and then come and wait here for you. Ghost beat me to it, so you’d best see to whatever he needs, first.”

Jon chuckles. “He’s just looking for somewhere warm to rest for the night, I expect.” Pushing open the door to his office, he is proven correct as Ghost pads over to a large rug on the ground and immediately curls up there, causing both you and Jon to laugh quietly. “What can I do for you, (Y/N)?” Jon asks, gesturing for you to head into his office first, assuring you that despite the reputation of some of the men that have been sent here, chivalry will not die as long as Jon Snow lives. 

Stepping inside, he closes the door behind you and offers you a comfortable armchair, while he sits on a rickety wooden chair behind his desk, quickly pushing the rolls of parchment aside to clasp his hands on the table and give you a small smile. 

“Much like Ghost, I was looking for somewhere warm to curl up for the night, as I dont think it’s a good idea for me to try and sleep in a room with any of the men here. I mean no disrespect, but based on the looks they’ve been giving me, I take it most have forgotten how to act when a woman is around.” Despite the airy chuckle that passes your lips, Jon sees it then, the slight nervousness in your eyes as you glance at the door, as though worried a man could burst through at any moment, but not at all afraid to be in this room with him.

Frowning, Jon nods. “I understand, but please trust me when I say I will not let any of the men here close enough to harm you. For the duration of your stay, it would be best if you were never without the company of your brother, myself, or Ghost, to ensure your safety.”

The offer of spending more time with the kind Commander is enough to bring a sparkle back to your eyes. “Thank you, I appreciate that a lot.”

Jon shakes his head, dismissing your gratitude. “And to the matter of your sleeping arrangements-”

You interject. “If you have a spare blanket, I’d be more than happy to stay in this chair, it’s actually very comfortable!”

Appreciating your humble offer, but disregarding it entirely, Jon shakes his head again. “No guest here will ever sleep in a chair, not on my watch.”

At that, you can't help snorting. “Pun intended?”

As silly as it is, Jon finds himself laughing with you. “Aye.” He clears his throat. “I think you would be safest sleeping in my quarters.” When Jon sees your eyes widen, he fumbles for more words. “I mean to say that I will sleep elsewhere, perhaps that chair, or another room- the men will not disturb my private chambers, so you will be safest there.”

Settling into a somewhat relieved and somewhat disappointed expression, you nod at him. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you, but I won’t ask you to find other sleeping arrangements. If there is any way for you to still be in your chambers, I would feel safer knowing you were close by, if anything were to happen.” 

Touched by the trust you are already showing him, Jon holds your gaze and nods. “Of course. As long as you are not at all uncomfortable with the idea-”

“I’m not.” You answer, perhaps a little too quickly, making Jon laugh bashfully. 

“Good, I’m glad. We’ll need to provide you with clean clothes while you are with us, but I’m sorry to say women’s clothes are not kept here.” 

You shrug. “It’ll be a testament to my appeal if I still draw as much attention when dressed as a man, I suppose.” 

Holding his tongue, Jon resists the urge to immediately tell you that he has no doubt you will, especially in his eyes, because he is already certain he would be able to pick your smile out amongst any number of others, no matter what clothes you were wearing. Instead, he chooses to keep such thoughts to himself and the rising tension within him forces him to his feet from behind his desk, Ghost immediately standing to attention, too.

“I’ll see to fetching some more clothes for you now, Ghost will show you to my chambers for the night.” With that, Jon Snow speeds out of the room and takes some deep breaths of ice cold, northern air. Beginning a brisk march to the storage room where linens and clothes are kept, his heart pounds in his chest in a way that he has never felt it do before, in a way that Jon did not think possible. 

Before today, before your smile, it had been locked away in a thick icy wall of its own, and he had been foolish enough to believe it to be impenetrable. How can you possibly have melted it, in its entirety, already? And why is Jon Snow so exhilarated at the thought of such a terrifying thing?

Still seated in the armchair you had been left in, you fan yourself with your hand and laugh to yourself in disbelief, your face flushing hot as you replay the conversation you’d just had with the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. In truth, it takes you a few minutes to regain strength enough to stand, and when you do, you tilt your head at Ghost, who tilts his head right back at you, mimicking you.

“We’d best keep my reaction just then between us, what do you think?” You ask him, and Ghost huffs in reply, agreeing to keep your secret in his own way.

Having formed a truce, Ghost walks you through the open door and begins to lead you to the Lord Commander’s chambers. 

Regardless of being told to come here, letting yourself into someone else’s private place of rest feels intrusive. When Ghost paws at the door, though, you feel he has granted your passage in a way that you cannot refuse. Ghost strolls in like he is the one that owns these chambers, and you start to think that perhaps he does as he curls up on the floor at the end of the bed on the other side of the room. Making sure you close the door behind you and light the candle closest to you on entry, you take in your surroundings, not seeing very much to suggest that this place has been truly lived in by Jon Snow and using that to form the conclusion that he has not been Lord Commander for long enough to have spent very much time here. Still, sitting down on the bed that you know to be his, the soft scent of him brings the smallest smile to your face, remembering when you had been at his side while ascending the wall, close enough for it to be impossible for you to miss his earthy scent, mixed with a little sweat and old soap. With hair like his, you are certain he must take care to wash at every opportunity. 

A gentle knock at the door makes you jump out of your skin.

“Come in!” You call, feeling just as ridiculous as Jon does from the other side of the door, having just knocked to request entry to his own chambers.

Far more calm now, Jon steps into the room with a folded pile of clothes in his arms. He spent an embarrassing amount of time sifting through the spare clothes to find as many soft fabrics as he could, rather than giving you any of the aged, scratchy items, and that is a fact he will take to the grave. 

Placing them at the foot of his bed, the sight of you sitting on it makes him smile, hoping you have begun to settle in. 

“Thank you.” 

He shakes his head. “There’s no need to thank me, I hope they are comfortable.” 

Rolling your eyes playfully at his concern, you grin up at him. “As long as they’re warm, I won’t complain about a thing. Where will you sleep?”

Evidently, in all his preparation for collecting the biggest pile of softest clothes he could find, Jon had neglected to think about that very question. Scratching the back of his neck, he glances around the room as you had, like the place is so unfamiliar he may not have registered there was another bed, or chair, to sleep on, but unfortunately chambers are solely meant for sleeping, and the Lord Commander’s only includes one bed. 

“I will sleep on the floor.” Jon concludes confidently, knowing his back will not thank him for such an offer, but his gentlemanly nature will not allow him to consider any other option.

Immediately, you shake your head. “Absolutely not. I trust you enough to not jump on me, and there is plenty of room for us both in this bed.”

Jon’s eyes are wide as he ponders the mere possibility of sharing a bed with a woman. 

Before he can protest, you give him a warm smile to reassure him. “I swear, I don’t mind.”

Swallowing a fear he is certain is worse than facing a white walker, Jon Snow nods, silently agreeing with you. 

“Let’s get to sleep, then. I expect you have to wake early.” You assume, and Jon nods again, having once again lost the ability to speak as he rounds the other side of the bed and sits down with his back to yours.

Heartbeat ringing in his ears, Jon watches your shadow in the candlelight on the wall in front of him as you raise your arms and begin to strip down to your underclothes, giving him the clarity that he needs to know it is alright for him to do the same. The still rising tension is enough to tell you that neither of you will be able to stand sleeping fully clothed, let alone when your bodies are as close as they will have to be under the furs of the bed. Deliberately taking as long as he can to unbutton his undershirt, Jon waits to hear you shuffle under the bedcovers before he tosses his undershirt to the ground and does the same, granting you a momentary view of the bare skin of his back for a few glorious seconds before his head falls against the pillow beside yours. 

Several seconds pass in a painfully slow eternity, before you roll over to face Jon, and he glances down at you. 

“Rather than letting this continue to be horrifically awkward, let’s treat this as a cozy opportunity to get to know each other, hmm?” You suggest, and Jon breathes a sigh of relief, turning on his side to face you, foreheads mere inches apart as he stares into your eyes, your expressions barely visible in the dim candlelight. 

“How do you always find a way to see things so positively?” He asks you, unable to withhold the question that he’s been wondering from the moment you arrived. 

“Finding the happiness in something that someone else can’t quite see at the time, makes me happy.” You shrug beneath the furs, like what you’ve just said isn’t one of the most profoundly kind things that Jon Snow has ever heard. “My turn to ask a question!” Jon nods, not bothering to even try and hide the smile on his face at your excitement. “How has such a kindhearted and pretty faced man landed the position of Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch?”

Jon chuckles lightly, cheeks blooming pink. “How many times have you called me that today?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Lord Commander, or pretty?”

Scoffing, Jon rolls his eyes playfully. “You know which.”

The giggle that escapes you makes his heart splutter in his chest. “You can ask me that when it’s your turn to ask a question. For now, you must answer mine, those are the rules.”

Jon sighs, feigning dramatics. “I yield. I’m Lord Commander because Sam put me forward for it and Maester Aemon casted the deciding vote in my favor.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now, trying not to notice the bare arms that Jon lifts from the furs to cross in front of him. “I didn’t ask how the voting system worked, I asked how someone as kind as you won such a vote!”

At that, Jon Snow gives you a cheeky grin. “You’ll have to make the question more clear when it’s your turn again.” Your jaw drops theatrically, and with a smug tone that you’ve never found more attractive in your life, he continues. “So, go on, how many times?”

Without delay, you answer. “I’ve said it three times, but the amount I’ve thought it is not yet possible to count.”

Jon releases a hearty, bashful laugh at that. “Why’s that?”

And then you throw a cheeky grin right back at him. “Still some hours left in the day, plenty more time for me to think it every few minutes.”

Inching closer to you still, Jon feels his heart hammering against his chest. “Every few minutes?”

Eyes glazing over in a way that has him swallowing nervously, you smile up at him. “Or, more accurately, every few seconds.”

Jon’s eyes dart from your own to your lips. “Where have you been all this time?”

Holding his heated gaze, you answer without needing time to think about it. “Waiting for you.”

Jon’s stomach flips, something it’s only ever done before in moments of true shock or fear, which this, in itself, obviously is, but in a way that he has never known before. “You know, I cannot take a wife.”

Shrugging, you scrunch your nose playfully, voice barely above a whisper now. “A forbidden and secret romance always sounded more fun, anyway.”

And as if that final demonstration of your incredible ability to spin any kind of inconvenience into something astoundingly positive isn’t enough to pull a genuine groan from Jon, he sees your eyes glance from his to his lips and linger there, and he needs no further indication from you. Leaning in, he captures your top lip between his own in a kiss that is as passionate as it is gentle, not wanting to alarm you and giving you the space to pull away if it please you, but when you raise a hand from beneath the furs to drag your fingers through the curls you’ve been desperate to feel since the moment you laid eyes on him, and push your body flush against his, Jon Snow loses every ounce of strength and resistance he has in favor of instinctual, near animalistic desire for you. Crawling over you, your hands grab at the toned muscles of his arms, gasping against his lips and allowing him entry to a land he’s never explored before, but is certain he will become a master of soon enough.

Needless to say, a song of sunshine and snow is one of heartwarming tenderness, in the same way that it is a tale of a love so all encompassing and completely overwhelming, neither party stood a chance.

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